#the whole team thing got taken too far
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neo-nomatrix · 11 months ago
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Sunshine and Midnight Rain
Luke Castellan x Apollo kid!Reader
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word count: 851
summary: Luke castellan and the daughter of apollos love story
a/n: “remember who the enemy is” IM TRYING
Luke Castellan held your heart since the day you met, and you held his.
You arrived at camp a few months after Luke. You were one of the lucky ones, claimed within an hour of being there. Your godly father is Apollo, god of poetry, the sun, music, narcissism, idiocy, stupidity, all that. You had assumed the gods would act superior to all, no matter if they were or weren’t. But Apollo was on a completely different level. You didn’t know why he had taken such a liking to you.
“You remind him of himself,” Your half sister, Kayla, had told you, “an archer who never misses, healer who fixes every wound, gifted singer, and somehow picked up the lyre in a day. And yet, you still ask why Apollo loves you the most?”
“I wish he wouldn’t,” you twirl the golden arrow he gifted you.
“y’know, that hermes boy has been staring since the moment you stepped foot here,” she smiles, nodding to the tan boy sitting on a picnic table.
“Great, more attention,” you keep your sights on the boy, lucas? Luca, maybe?
“His name’s luke castellan,” kayla says, ah luke, that’s it.
“He’s handsome,” you say matter of factly.
“Don’t trust those Hermes boys, all they do is lie,” Kayla leans back and rolls her eyes.
“It’s a good thing I play the lyre.”
——————
“You’ve got a great shot,” a deep voice says from behind you.
You’ve been at the range for around an hour, it’s 4:30, you always practice when no one else is around.
“The whole reason why I come out here this early is so i can be alone,” sure, it sounds mean but you swear you’re not trying to be.
“Sorry, once I see you it’s hard to look away,” you’re not looking at him but you can tell me has the biggest smirk on his face.
“Funny,” you tell him bluntly.
You set down your bow, keeping the arrow in your hand, and sit on the nearby grass. He lays down beside you, you follow his lead and put your hands behind your head.
“That arrow, it’s like it’s made of the sun,” He says amazed.
“A gift from dear old dad. No matter how far I shoot it’ll always come back. Supposed to be a sign of his love or something. But I think he just constantly wants me to be annoyed by him,” you inform him possibly too much.
“Most people would be grateful if their godly parent cares that much,” he says.
“It’s different with Apollo, there is no such thing as true altruism with him,” you bite your inner lip.
“I get that, I’m just tryna say- Hermes never showed up for me, and I'd kill to just have him tell me he cares,” His eyes furrow.
“Guess we both have different priorities,” you smile.
“Opposites work best don’t they?” He smiles back.
“Isn’t it opposites attract?” You wonder.
“Hey, your words, not mine,” he laughs.
“That one’s Orion,” You point up at the constellation.
“He was always my favorite,” he adds.
“Mine has always been Cassiopeia, but you can never see her over here,” You look back up at the sky.
“That one’s Taurus, and then Sirius below, and Gemini above,” you point each of them out.
Even though he hums in acknowledgment his eyes are locked on you.
“You’re staring, again” You mention.
“I told you I can’t help it, especially when you glow like that,” he reaches out and touches your face.
You reach out and grab his hand, running your fingers against his slender digits.
“I’d like to be a constellation when I die, maybe my father will fulfill that wish,” you say to him.
“That’ll be my last wish too, we can lay in the stars together.”
——————
It’s been a day since Percy Jackson came to Camp Half-blood. It just so happens to be your favorite day of the year, capture the flag. You have led the archers on the blue team for years, you’d say you’re doing well for what you’re given. Besides your siblings in Apollo the rest of the kids weren’t as gifted in archery.
As the first conch shell blew you were preparing for your mock-battle. Annabeth in charge of the plan and Percy, Luke with company, and you with the archers. You knew you could, no- would win. The archers took the trees, helping stray company from the skies.
“Today feels like a winning kind of day?” Annabeth asks luke.
“I’ll see you on the other side,” He smiles.
“Luke!” You pull him aside for a moment.
You cup his face the best you can through his armor. “You don’t get hurt okay? I don’t feel like healing anymore wounds from you. Understand?”
“Oh but I love to see you healing” he holds your hand and smirks
“Archers! Move out!” You call your team, eyes still locked with his, smiling.
“so… you and her?” Percy asks the taller boy.
“how could I not? She's perfect. I mean, I genuinely believe I could live without the sun if I just had her.”
And maybe, just maybe, he could.
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heeology · 6 months ago
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i want nobody but you | p.sh
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synopsis → you and sunghoon have known each other your whole lives and although you've both dealt with jokes from classmates since elementary school on how you two would end up together, that never ended up happening; you two would brush it off and then move on. you never really thought about pursuing something with him romantically, especially since you like things with a more casual approach. but once sunghoon's girlfriend becomes a part of the picture, you can't help but feel these feelings consume you. being the way you are, however, you managed to push them down and you at least thought you got over them until you realize maybe they never left at all. or even worse: they were always there.
feat. → yujin (ive) & sungchan (riize)
genre → college au, friends to somewhat enemies to lovers, romance, smut, angst (eh, ig), slowburn (ig? srry lmao)
pairing → nonidol!sunghoon x fem!reader
warnings → MDNI, smoking !! (reader and sunghoon both smoke), drinking, cursing, mention(s?) of death, mention of hookups, reader is called and referred to (sometimes self referred to) as a: slut/whore; slutshaming, !! potential sh reference (pinching/hitting self; dk if that counts, but it's not mentioned after) !!, mentions of sex (obvi)
w.c. → 22.7k
a/n → long time no see lol. lmk if u would be interested in seeing some pics i took at the enha concert i went to :)) (i won't do vids because i was screaming like a baboon lmao) p.s. bear w me bc ik this is a long one, but i feel like i owe you all since i've been gone for practically a century, but pls give it a chance, i'm on my knees begging bc this took 3 days
disclaimer !! → i don’t ship any idols i portray as dating in this story irl nor do i have the intent to portray anyone in this story in a negative light, this is just for creative purposes, babes <3; this is all just fiction, take it lightly pls and thx
!!DO NOT COPY OR REPOST!!
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Today has been a long day. You groan as you take a seat on a bench somewhere near the lecture hall you just left and you close your eyes as you lean back against it. You had originally thought your senior year of high school was torturous, but being a senior in college was far worse. Your eyebrows furrow a bit when you feel the weight of the bench shift a bit, meaning someone has taken a seat beside you. Your eyes open a bit and you turn your head to see Sunghoon next to you. A sigh escapes your lips and you turn your head away, closing your eyes again. 
Sunghoon sits there for a moment, looking at you. Lately, you two haven’t hung out as much and although he admittedly forgot to text you for the past week and half, you were still his best friend. He could argue, though, that “the phone works both ways”, so you’re not exactly innocent either. He’s seen you around campus, hanging out with some members of the basketball team, mainly the captain: Sungchan. You didn’t seem bothered by the lack of contact between the two of you, either, so it didn’t bother him or make him feel guilty that you haven’t hung out in just a few days. No…not at all.
“Nice to see you, too.” he mumbles. You stay quiet, honestly close to falling asleep on the bench, especially with the warm breeze that is gently blowing. He narrows his eyes a bit and leans back against the bench. He does the same as you, closing his eyes as he relaxes, but he frowns to himself. “You and Sungchan seem to be close.” he says, not really even understanding why he brought it up in the first place. 
This piques your interest. “What about him.” you say rather than ask, still keeping your eyes closed.
Sunghoon shrugs, still not really sure why he cares who you hang out with or how often or who they are or…anything like that. Maybe it upsets him to think about the fact that you might replace him with someone cooler as your best friend; maybe he was too lame for you. How juvenile, he thought to himself. But that’s what it felt like, to him, at least. “Nothing. I’ve just seen you guys hanging out a lot, that’s all.” Sunghoon replies.
“How would you know that; we haven’t really hung out or talked lately.” you reply, not meaning to sound snarky, but it most likely came across that way.
Sunghoon scoffs softly. “I have eyes; I can still see who you talk to.”
You open your eyes a bit and turn your head to look at him. “Stalker.” you tease. 
Sunghoon opens his eyes, almost as if he can feel you looking at him and he rolls them, not amused. “Am not…I’m just trying to start a conversation or whatever.”
“About the people I talk to?”
Sunghoon shrugs. “About anything…” It stays quiet for a moment. “It’s just been a while since we’ve talked.”
“And whose fault is that?” You ask, rhetorically.
Sunghoon frowns. “Well, I’ve just been busy-”
You scoff, “Yeah. I know.” You reply dryly.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Just that that’s what you always say whenever we don’t talk to each other for a while. Like, I get it, you’re dating Yujin, big whoop.”
You’ve considered the possibility that he has just been busy with schoolwork, but no matter how many times you would give him the benefit of the doubt, it always ended up being because he was hanging out with Yujin. You weren’t really mad, per say, just annoyed. Severely annoyed. But what could you do? Ever since they started dating freshman year, you’ve felt like you were on the backburner. Which, again, you can’t really be upset about that. Afterall, she’s his girlfriend, whether you liked it or not. There is nothing wrong with her, you two got along fine, even if you don’t really talk or are even friends. You don’t hate her, not for any valid reasons, anyway. Still, despite how many people you know, Sunghoon is your only real friend and always has been. But it’s times like these when it feels like he means more to you than you mean to him.
“She’s my girlfriend.” He says, matter-of-factly.
You roll your eyes at his statement. “I know that,” you retort with annoyance, “you only ever bring it up every chance you get.”
“You seriously can’t be annoyed that I spend time with my own girlfriend.” He responds with the same tone.
Sometimes, Sunghoon gets caught up in things. Like being with Yujin, for example. He’ll be with her and then it just slips his mind to respond to a text of yours or to ask if you want to do something, he can’t help it. He knows that he’s your best friend and he’s certain that you’re his, too. Sure, Yujin means a lot to him, but you mean more, whether he would admit that or not. He just wants to make everything balanced, for everything to work out. But a part of him feels like something has been off since he started dating Yujin. Sure, he’s had other girlfriends, but never one for longer than a few months. This relationship is important to him. What if Yujin is the one? He can’t screw it up and he’s afraid to, so he makes sure to spend as much time with her as he can. He thought you would understand, but apparently not.
You’ve met Sunghoon’s other girlfriends, none of which bothered you as much as Yujin. Maybe because this one seems more serious. Maybe because she seems more important to him. The thought makes your stomach curdle. This whole situation makes your stomach curdle. You shouldn’t care so much, but you do. You hate that. “Whatever.” you reply, honestly not having thought of anything better to respond with. What were you supposed to say to that? Of course you understood, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck.
“Besides, like I said, you and Sungchan have been hanging out a lot recently. Don’t act like you’ve never blown me off to hang out with him.” Sunghoon says.
“Barely.”
“Not barely. A lot. ‘Oh, Sungchan invited me to his basketball game to watch’, ‘Oh, Sungchan invited me to a party,’ ‘Oh, Sungchan wants to hook up’, ‘Oh, Sungchan this and Sungchan that’.” Sunghoon mocks, annoyed.
You frown. “Why do you care? You’ve got a girlfriend, so just hang out with her instead.”
Sunghoon frowns as well. “That’s not the point. The point is that you ditch me just the same to hang out with a guy who you’re not even dating. You don’t talk to me sometimes when you’re with him or another guy, so why are you so upset that I do the same with Yujin, who I’m actually dating?”
“Stop rubbing in the fact that you’re dating someone. Good for you, who gives a shit? So what if I do the same? It’s only because you do it first!” you argue back. You grab your backpack and stand up as you put it on. You start walking away from him and he watches you as you leave.
“Great talk!” he calls out to you in a sarcastic manner.
He didn’t mean to make you upset or try to “rub his relationship” in your face, he would never try to intentionally make you upset. So, why did he care? He doesn’t, it’s as simple as that. Maybe you doing the same thing to him with Sungchan bothered him a little. Maybe you wanting to spend your time instead with someone else you’re not even dating bothered him a little. But it’s not like he actually cared or anything. He knows he can’t tell you what to do or who to see, so why does he care? He knows he blew you off, so why didn’t he just apologize? Why did he bring up Sungchan in the first place? Sunghoon sits on the bench for a moment, rethinking things. Why was he acting like you were ignoring him when it was kind of the other way around? He sighs and closes his eyes again. He’ll figure it out later.
-
You let out a long yawn as the dim glow from your computer screen shines on your face. It’s three in the morning, and sure, you have a class tomorrow, but you can’t sleep and figure you can just skip your lecture anyway. Even if your brightness was all the way down, it still hurt your eyes every so often, so you would close them to make them feel better while you listened to the show you were watching. You hear your phone ding and your eyes open, your hand reaching for your phone to see the text.
“are you awake?” Sunghoon texts.
He knows you are. You almost always are, which is why he knew you would see the message. Although, he did anticipate the idea of you ignoring him. You were good at things like that, things that required a stubborn attitude. He didn’t mind your stubbornness, though. He didn’t mind anything when it came to you. He waited a bit, sitting in the darkness with just the light of his phone screen, his thumb gently tapping it so it doesn’t automatically turn off as he waits for you to text back. 
“yeah.” you text back.
It took you a few minutes and in all honesty, you almost didn’t respond. But you missed him, which even if he asks directly, you would deny. You wonder if he missed you too, but you shake that thought away.
“still pissy?”
This makes you laugh a little. Yes, you were, but you still found it a little funny.
“shut up.” you text back.
“wanna hang out?”
You sigh. Now he wants to? It takes you a while to reply with anything as you just stare at his message.
“can u bring the usual?” you reply.
He smiles at your text. “duh” he texts back.
You smile a bit, looking forward to actually hanging out with him. The whole argument was dumb anyway and you just wanted your best friend back. And after a while of waiting, you hear a knock on your dorm room door. You get up from your bed and unlock it, opening it as you step outside. He smiles softly when he sees you and you smile a bit back. You both quietly leave your dorm building before going outside and sitting on the curb. He sets the plastic bag he was carrying between you two and opens a bottle of beer before handing it to you. You take it and he opens his own, both of you taking a sip as a cool breeze blows softly. 
“Sorry about earlier,” he says quietly, “and for not talking to you for a week. I just got caught up with Yujin, you know?”
You take another drink, not really interested in discussing this anymore. “It’s fine.”
“I also wasn’t trying to rub her and I into your face and make you feel bad or anything, it’s just…” he trails off. It’s silent for a moment as you both drink. “This week has been shitty.” he mumbles.
“Amen to that.” you reply. He chuckles softly and you both clink your bottles before smiling and taking another drink.
“How’s your love life going, anyway?” he asks, genuinely curious.
Sure, there were other things he wanted to talk about, could talk about, but this is what slipped out of his mouth first. He was actually curious, he truly wants to know. He just wants to see you happy. 
You shrug, “The same; just hook ups.”
He looks at you for a moment. That’s it? You’ve been hooking up with people since the beginning of high school. Sure, you’ve dated some guys before, but they were all assholes; Sunghoon never liked them. He couldn’t stand them, to put it plainly. You deserve better, and he knows that. But he also knows you’re not into relationships. You like things to be simple and direct. But when it comes to how you feel, he knew you weren’t very expressive with that. Only when it comes to getting what you want. He kind of admires that about you.
“So…no one in particular? You just kind of…go after who you think is the hottest?”
You grin, “Something like that.” you take a sip, “So…how are things going with Yujin?”
You honestly hate that you asked. Why would you? Why would you want to hear about that? Surely, things must be going wonderfully if he’s so wrapped up in all that is her. But you’re still friends. It’s normal to ask these kinds of questions, right? Maybe he won’t really say much anyway and you’ll be a good friend for even asking. That’s what you’re hoping for, at least.
"Well... things have been kind of weird. She's been acting kinda distant recently; I don't know how else to explain it. She just seems really bored all the time. Like, the sex is good but it just seems like she's not into me anymore or something." he replies.
You give him a weird look as he brings up the topic of sex with Yujin. Gross. Just...Gross.
“Describing sex with your ‘girlfriend’ as good is never a good thing.” you say as you laugh a bit, taking a sip. 
Sunghoon scoffs a bit. Why did it seem like you were happy to hear that? It irritated him a bit, but he brushed it off. “Well, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s more like…it’s become something that’s routine.”
“Yeah, that’s probably not a good sign.”
Sunghoon sighs. "I know... it's just so weird though. I mean, we've been together for so long, and she's never been the type to get bored like this. It just sucks. I'm worried if something happened between us that's making her not want to be with me anymore."
You look at him for a moment as he drinks. You hate seeing him upset and you know that Yujin means a lot to him, especially since this is his first big relationship. You frown a bit as you drink. “Have you asked her?” you take another sip, “Aren’t people in relationships supposed to communicate and shit?”
"Yeah, I asked her and she said everything was fine, but like... I don't know. I just have a feeling that she's not telling me something, and I've tried asking her multiple times, but every time, she always says everything's fine." he takes another drink. “That’s pretty much what I’ve been spending last week doing, just…trying to fix what may not even be broken.” he mumbles.
You feel bad now for getting upset at him for blowing you off. It makes sense and you just got defensive again, not really knowing what he was doing. You sit there for a moment, not really sure what to say. Sunghoon didn’t mind the silence, though. He was trying to focus on Yujin and figure out why things feel this way when maybe, they aren’t even that way at all. Maybe it’s him. He isn’t sure, but he is sure that he already feels a million times better being with you, even if it is just sitting next to each other on a curb in silence.
“Do you cum?” you ask.
Sunghoon chokes on his beer a little, hitting his chest a bit as he coughs. He looks at you, not expecting your question at all, and as for you, well, you weren’t really expecting to ask it. It kind of just…came out. Your initial thought process was to ask more about his feelings on things in the relationship, seeming more like a routine, but it kind of led to you wondering if he even cums. In your defense, you thought that if he doesn’t, then maybe the relationship is going downhill. You look at him, as if what you asked was totally normal, taking another sip of your beer. He looks back at you, seeming to have processed what you asked.
“...yeah, pretty much every time.”
“Does she?”
Again, not something you really want to know, but you do want to help him.
“...sometimes, but most of the time she doesn’t.”
You suck air through your teeth, “Uh-oh.”
“It’s not a big deal, you know, so what if sometimes we don’t? It’s not about that, it’s just about…connecting or whatever.” he mumbles as he takes a sip.
“So, then what? Do you guys just like…do it yourself?”
“Yeah, so?”
You laugh. You can’t help it, it’s just too funny. Not his obvious pain with his relationship kind of going south, but the fact that he finds this to be normal. You at least found that funny.
“What’s so funny?” he asks, pissed off, but also slightly embarrassed.
“Dude, I'm not a relationship expert, but like...shouldn't people who have sex, I don't know, finish every time? I mean, I have never really had that happen often with any of the guys I hook up with, but hey, what do I know.” 
"Well... I guess, but it's not a big deal to me. As long as she enjoys it, that's what's important. And, it's not like it happens all the time. Sometimes she does finish, but it's just... well, not as often as I would hope..." he takes another sip.
You roll your eyes to yourself. Kind of out of instinct. If you’re going to be frank, you don’t give a damn about her.
You shrug, “I don’t know,” you take another sip, “you say you don’t cum sometimes, how come?”
“I don’t know…it just happens?”
You shake your head, “Nah, there’s a reason.”
“But the reason is dumb and I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” he takes another sip.
“Do you think she’s hot?”
What a stupid question. You wish you didn’t ask it. Why would you want to hear him talk about yet again how hot he thinks she is. It makes your blood boil and you would rather bash yourself over the head with your beer bottle than hear him talk about how perfect she is. But, there is a small, small part of you hoping for a certain answer. Only a small part.
“Of course I do.” he replies, simply.
“So, then, what’s the problem?”
“Sometimes I have a hard time finishing, happy? Jesus…” he mumbles as he drinks some more.
You roll your eyes. You’ve known each other your whole lives, you know when he’s lying.
“Mmm,” you take another sip, “no, you see, sometimes when I hook up with guys, I suddenly don't feel attracted to them, so then sometimes I don't finish. So do you just like sometimes not like her or something?”
He shakes his head, "No, I'm always attracted to her. But... sometimes I have a hard time finishing, and I don't know why that is."
“What do you think about?” you ask, kind of quietly.
A part of you didn’t want to ask that, besides, this conversation was becoming weird. But that small, small part of you was so desperately hoping for a certain answer. Fucked up? Yeah, most definitely, but that didn’t seem to stop you.
“About what?” he asks, actually clueless.
“When you’re having sex, what do you think about?” you ask again, taking a sip of your beer.
“...about her, that’s what you’re supposed to do, so,” he trails off, “Sometimes I…think about other things...” he answers, blushing a bit.
“Like what?”
“Just…random stuff. Why do you want to know anyway?” he asks, getting slightly defensive.
“Maybe that's what's distracting you. I don't know, spice things up with her or something. Or have an actual conversation with her about how you feel or whatever.” you mutter as you finish your beer.
He takes another sip of his beer. “Why are you acting like some sort of relationship counselor? You’ve never even really been in a relationship yourself.”
Maybe he wanted to piss you off with what he said, but only so you could back off. “Spice things up”? Yujin and him are fine, he’s deciding that right here, right now. He doesn’t want your help with this or to even discuss it anymore with you. It feels weird. Besides, he doesn’t want you to think that he’s…not good at sex. Not for any other reasons, just that…he doesn’t want you to think that about him.
You set your bottle down and look at him. “Because you’re my friend? I don’t know. Why do you care?” You hold your hand out, wanting him to hand the cigarettes he brought while your other hand digs into your sweatpants pocket for your lighter.
He reaches into the bag and hands them to you, knowing full well you could have grabbed them yourself, yet he still obliged. “So, in all of your hooking up, have you ever had feelings for anyone you hooked up with? And not those bullshit feelings for your douchebag exes, like actual feelings. Or have they all just been hookups?” he asks, hoping to change the subject.
You open the pack, “Hookups.”
“Every single one?”
“Mhm.” you answer, taking one out and putting it into your mouth, lighting it as you take a drag.
“So you’ve never fallen in love with anyone you’ve hooked up with?”
You laugh, “Fallen in love? How stupid.” you say as you take another drag.
“Okay, love might be a strong word, but like, have you never developed feelings for any of the people you’ve hooked up with?” he asks, finishing his beer.
“Nah.”
"Right, right. So, you're just all about hookups then, and that's cool, no shame or anything; I get it. But you've never felt even just a little bit of loneliness from it?" he asks as he sets his bottle down. You ignore his question, taking another drag. He knows by your reaction that he’s said something that bothers you. Whenever anything is mentioned that may reveal how you truly feel, you just block it off and move on. He sighs, not too sure why he bothered asking since you always ignore these types of topics. Sometimes, he wished you wouldn’t. He wished you would be more open with him. It feels like he can talk to you about anything and everything, even if sometimes he doesn’t want to, but he does anyway because you…well, you’re you. "I mean, it's gotta get kinda boring... always hooking up, never really connecting with anyone. Unless you don't care about that kind of thing."
“Love is stupid.” you reply flatly.
What a groundbreaking opinion. Truly, nobody has ever felt or thought the same thing. Great stuff. Sunghoon sighs at your answer, not really getting why you won’t just tell him. He wants you to. He can’t really explain why. It doesn’t have to do with wanting to get some satisfaction out of helping you or changing you, but rather, sometimes he feels like he knows nothing about you. You’re important to him, more than you could possibly understand, but still, sometimes, you seem so distant; like a stranger. He just wants to know that you trust him.
“So, just because love hasn’t exactly worked out in your life, you think love is stupid? I don’t really think that’s fair…just because your ex boyfriends were assholes doesn’t mean that true love doesn’t exist.”
For some reason, him talking about true love pisses you off. It pisses you off greatly. You can feel your skin crawl and anger boiling up inside you, so you take a drag from your cigarette, blowing out the smoke, wishing it was something else you were getting rid of.
“It’s not about them.” you take another drag, “Do you love Yujin?”
You think you know the answer already. No, you know the answer indefinitely. There is only one answer. Why would he have spent the past three–almost four years–dating her if he didn’t? You think about all the times he talked about her when they first started dating. You try not to, but your mind recalls all the details, how he said them, what he said, how he looked while he was talking. It made you sick.
His heart sinks a little when you ask the question. He stares at you for a moment, not responding to your question right away. He takes a long deep breath before he answers, “Yes.” You sit silent. You heard his answer, but you don’t want to acknowledge it. You take another drag from your cigarette, a longer one this time, blowing out the smoke slowly as you tap some of the tobacco from the butt of it off. “Do you…not believe me?” he asks, watching you. He can tell something is on your mind, you’re just having trouble saying it. He’s not asking to be snarky or anything, he asks in more of a gentle tone, just wanting you to open up or at least just say something remotely close to how you feel.
“No, I do.” you answer quietly. For some reason, it hurts to say that. It’s true, though; you do believe him…unfortunately.
Silence consumes the both of you, just sitting on the curb as time passes. Crickets chirp softly in the distance and the subtle burn of the tobacco from your cigarette fills it a bit, but not enough. He stares at you, both annoyed and concerned. 
“Then what is it? Are you trying to say there’s something wrong with my relationship?” he asks, suddenly defensive. Even he, himself, doesn’t know why he’s suddenly so defensive about it, especially since he brought up the issue earlier, but he doesn’t like thinking that you think there is something wrong.
“Jesus, it’s not like that.” you respond, knowing full and well it is like that.
“Then spit it out; what are you trying to say?”
“Shut up.”
You take another drag and he rolls his eyes, annoyed. “You know, you’re so annoying sometimes.”
“So are you.”
“Yeah, I know, but you’re worse.”
You take another drag, genuinely wanting him to shut up, or for things to be normal. Or better yet, for things not to be complicated. “Go cry about it to your girlfriend.”
“Screw you.”
“Ditto.”
“Whatever.” he says, pissed off.
“Yeah, whatever.” you mumble as you take another drag.
He continues to look at you, pissed off at how you don’t seem to care about anything. He used to like that a lot about you, how you never cared about what people thought and are able to brush anything off. Maybe “used to” is a bit strong, he still likes that about you, but for right now, it’s incredibly infuriating. 
“You know, I’ve noticed that you always avoid giving direct answers to questions. Maybe that’s why you’re so scared of commitment; Not willing to really speak your mind out of fear of hurting someone’s feelings or your own.” he says, hoping this would piss you off enough to just say how you feel.
You roll your eyes, “Shut up.” you say as you continue smoking your cigarette.
“No, I won't shut up. In fact, I'm gonna keep talking because this is one of the rare occasions where we’re actually having a serious conversation and not just talking about petty stuff.”
You roll your eyes again. “I don’t want to.” you reply, simply.
“Too bad. because I am really curious about it. So, I’m just gonna keep asking questions. Like, have you ever experienced real heartbreak before? Because you seem like the type that just throws people away and moves on with no remorse.” You become quiet. Sure, you weren’t answering before, well, barely, anyway. But this time, you feel like you’re shrinking. That type of quiet. The type of quiet you become when you feel like you got caught and you don’t want to admit to what you did. You just smoke your cigarette. “And you don’t just avoid answering questions about your romantic life, either. You do the same thing when it comes to family, friends, and anyone else. You just push people away and never actually let anyone get to know the real you.” 
“You know the real me.” you say, looking at him. In all honesty, you were insulted. He was seriously telling you that he “doesn’t know the real you” after you guys have been friends since you were two years old? What does that say about your friendship?
“No, I really don’t. All I know about you is the surface layer stuff that you’re willing to share, but I don't actually know you. No one does. Because you never let anyone get close enough.” he says as he looks you directly in the eyes, meaning every word he says. Well, maybe not every word, but it is how he feels. He doesn’t want you to get frustrated, but if that’s what it takes for you to finally say how you feel, then so be it. You do feel yourself getting frustrated and you look away, taking another drag. “And don’t deny it, ‘cause you know it’s true. You just push people away and never let yourself be vulnerable, ‘cause if you did, then they could use that vulnerability against you. And god forbid anybody ever find out about your deepest insecurities-” 
“Shut the fuck up.” you say, feeling anger seethe out of you. He sits there, somewhat stunned by your response. Not exactly that you became angry, but more so that he actually got a reaction out of you. He watches you as you put your cigarette out and stand up. “I’m going back to my room.” you mutter. 
He stands up. “Seriously?” he says as he sees you start to walk away. He scoffs. “You’re just going to leave? Like that? Whatever.” he mumbles as he grabs the pack of cigarettes you put back into the bag (the pack he specifically bought for you and always buys whenever you guys hang out like this). He opens it and grabs one, lighting it as he sees you turn around. You walk back over to him and snatch the pack of cigarettes from his hand. “The hell?” he asks, annoyed, as he tries to grab it back.
You hold it out of his reach. “You don’t even like red Marlboros.” you say, almost tempted to take the one out of his mouth, too just to spite him.
“Give it back.” he says sternly as he takes a small drag from the one in his mouth, holding it between his fingers as he glares at you.
“No.”
“It’s my pack of cigarettes.”
“That you bought for me.”
“And I want it back.”
“Well, tough shit, I’m not giving it back.”
“Give it.” he says as he holds out his hand. You ignore him and turn around, starting to walk away. He takes another drag, grimacing because you’re right, he doesn’t like this brand, but he’s only doing this to spite you. He gets even more pissed off just seeing you walk away. “Why are you always such a pain in the ass?”
“Could ask you the same thing.” you yell back.
He quickly puts out the cigarette and puts the bottles into the bag before catching up to you. “I'm not the one who’s always being super mean and acting all mysterious about everything. Like, what’s with all the attitude and snarky comments? You’ve been extra shitty lately.”
“Fuck you.”
He scoffs, “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You know, you’re being shitty, you just don’t wanna admit it.”
You stop walking and turn to look at him, throwing the pack at him. “Then go away.”
He grits his teeth and grabs the pack from the ground. He looks at you, “Whatever. I'm leaving. But just know, one of these days, you’re going to actually push someone away for good.”
“Hopefully it’s you.” you say as you cross your arms.
“Yeah, me too. Because I am so fed up with your bullshit.”
“Great. Go away.”
He rolls his eyes and walks past you, his arm bumping into yours purposefully as he heads back to his dorm.
-
As Sunghoon makes his way to his lecture, he sees Yujin in the distance talking to some of her friends. He thinks about your conversation last night. He had hopes of confiding in you a bit more about how he felt, but of course that’s not the way things panned out. He had no time to focus on that, even if he was feeling even worse now that he possibly lost his best friend for good. Shit…did he really lose you for good? He feels his blood run cold, but he’s trying to forget it and focus on her. She’s his girlfriend, he has to remember that. He walks up to her, smiling a bit. She looks at him.
“Oh…hey.” she says softly.
“Hey…can we talk for a minute?” She nods her head and stands still. Sunghoon glances at her friends and then looks back at her. “...in private?” Yujin glances at her friends before following Sunghoon over into the library, taking a seat at a table near one of the back bookshelves, a little bit of space between the two of them. “Is there a reason you’ve been acting like this lately? Do you not…want to be with me anymore?” Sunghoon asks, just getting straight to the point.
Yujin is quiet for a moment. “Everything is fine.” she says.
He crosses his arms, feeling himself getting frustrated. Why can’t people just be direct like you? Yeah, you’re not really direct with your feelings, but you are when it comes to anything else. “Are you sure? Because you've been really distant. We haven't been talking as often, you barely want to spend time with me... and it feels like you're avoiding being intimate with me, too. I had to almost beg you to spend time with me last week. Is there really nothing? Are you sure everything is fine?” Yujin listens and stays quiet. Sunghoon sighs. "You know, couples are supposed to communicate and shit, right? If something is bothering you, just come out and say it." Sure, he took a page from your book with what you said last night and perhaps some of what you said rang true after all, but he’s not really looking to give you a “you were right” moment at this time.
“You being friends with her bothers me.” Yujin says as she crosses her arms.
Sunghoon freezes for a moment, taken aback by her response. “...are you being serious?” he asks, not totally sure if she’s just messing with him.
“You hang out with her more than me to the point that I had to ask you to stop texting her whenever we would hang out and you always say you’re “just best friends”, but I don’t believe you. Do you have feelings for her?”
“Do YOU think I have feelings for her?” Sunghoon asks, becoming defensive while also avoiding answering her question directly. 
“Yes.” she answers, simply.
“What, do you think I’ll dump you for her or something?”
"She's a slut. You know it, I know it, everybody knows it. I don't care if you guys are close, I'm worried she is going to make a move on you and then you break up with me just for her to use you once and then ruin you; She's bad news." Yujin says.
He feels his jaw drop a bit at what she says. Did she seriously just say that? And so boldly? He feels himself become upset about the way she talks about you. He wants to defend you, he always has, but he frowns. What if this leads to Yujin breaking up with him? You did say last night that you two were done with each other, so why does it matter? He doesn’t agree with Yujin, but he wants to save this relationship…
“You really think I'm that naive? That I'd fall for a girl like her? Just because we’re close friends doesn’t mean I automatically get feelings for her and forget about you. You know I'm smart enough to not get mixed up with someone like her.” he says, feeling like his heart is breaking as he says it. He wants Yujin to feel reassured, but after saying this…it doesn’t feel worth it.
“So you agree.” Yujin says.
Sunghoon sits there, feeling like he’s about to throw up. Why is this so hard? Why can’t he just say ‘yes’ and move on? Why can’t he be happy with Yujin? He just nods his head. “I wouldn’t fall for someone like her.” he says extremely quietly, almost as if he never wanted those words to leave his mouth. But they did and it was too late.
Yujin smiles, satisfied by his answer. She leans in and kisses his lips quickly, “I believe you.” she says softly.
Sunghoon hesitates, not glad that she believes him. Not glad that she said those things about you. Not glad that he said those things about you. He’s just not happy. He gives her a small smile and kisses her cheek quickly. “I’m glad.”
-
You are sitting on a bench, scrolling through your phone as you wait for your next lecture to start soon. Sunghoon sees you as he exits his lecture hall and his gaze lingers on you for a moment. He sighs to himself a bit, feeling like he was being pulled in two different directions. The more he thinks about it, he feels as though Yujin was giving him an ultimatum to choose you or her. If she said it outright, there isn’t a cell in his body that would hesitate to choose you. He thinks back to his conversation with Yujin in the library and he feels sick; he knows he did something wrong. 
He walks over to you and takes a seat next to you, just wanting to make up and move on. To his surprise, however, you get up immediately and take your bag before walking away. He sits there, confused, but figures you’re still upset about the argument last night. He gets up and he follows you before catching up and gently grabbing your arm, but you end up taking it away and start walking again. He bites the inside of his cheek before stepping in front of you, “Why are you walking away from me?”
“Get away from me.”
“No.” he said as quickly as the words left your mouth.
You look at him, feeling your eyes sting, hot tears wanting to form, but you blink them away. “You should probably go find your girlfriend, you wouldn’t want to be seen hanging out with a slut like me, right?” you ask rhetorically.
“Hey-,” he cuts you off, frowning instantly when you call yourself that. “Stop it…you know I don’t see you that way.”
“That’s a fucking lie; I heard you talking to Yujin. Or are you surprised about that too since you were in the library and someone like me couldn’t possibly be in a place like that.” you say as you cross your arms, swallowing as if that will help mask your clear frustration.
“...what?” he asks quietly, freezing as he realizes what you’re saying.
“I heard you. I heard you agree with her when she called me a slut. I heard you say you "would never be stupid to fall for someone like me". Well, fuck you. Go be with your perfect girlfriend, asshole.” you say before you push past him, swallowing again, but this time to stop yourself from crying.
“Wait-” he tries to grab your arm again, but you pull it away and keep walking. He feels his heart sink as he watches you walk away. The world felt as if it just collapsed. He feels like he’s sinking and as he watches you become further from him, he feels like he’s lost everything. He’s holding his breath, not necessarily realizing he is, almost as if he exhales, he’s not sure he has the strength to take another breath knowing he’s hurt you; he doesn’t deserve to.
-
Everything moves in slow motion, all voices muffled, as Sunghoon feels himself being dragged inside of a party by Yujin. He can hear and see her laughing and talking with her friends as they walk inside the loud and crowded atmosphere, but he feels as if he’s hollow. He stands there like a zombie as Yujin talks and greets some of her friends. He’s not sure how it happened, especially since it was almost midnight and he honestly just wanted to go to sleep, but he somehow ended up here. His eyes felt heavy as they looked around the room, but he subconsciously stood up straighter when his eyes landed on you. It was like he had been resuscitated, his heart beating rapidly as he sees you and then he sees him.
Sunghoon rolls his eyes, noticing how Sungchan was standing closely to you, how his eyes scanned every inch of your body with some stupid, smug smirk on his face. Sunghoon rolled his eyes again and grimaced at the sight. He sees how you whisper something into his ear, Sungchan grinning as he places his hand on your hip. Suddenly, Sunghoon’s heart stopped again as his gaze fixates on his hand. His hand grips Yujin’s tightly as he clenches his jaw and his other hand curls into a fist, his fingernails digging into the palm of his hand. His breathing becomes heavy as he sees you smile, smile in a way he’s never had you smile at him before as your hand caresses Sungchan’s cheek while you clearly flirt back with him. Sunghoon was livid. He feels like an extra in his own life as he watches you fall for someone like that.
“Baby…?” Yujin asks, loosening her hand and taking it away from him since he was practically cutting off her circulation.
“I’m fine.” he mumbles, hints of anger and annoyance clear in his tone. He doesn’t look at her as he answers and she catches on.
She looks to where his gaze is and then she looks back at him, upset. “Why are you looking at her?” she asks as she crosses her arms. “You told me you don’t have feelings for her. I’m your girlfriend, not her.”
“Stop, Yujin, it’s not like that…” he mumbles, annoyed as he keeps looking at you and Sungchan. He watches as Sungchan puts his arm around your waist and he feels like the air has just been knocked out of him. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he glares at the two of you, wanting nothing more than to shove him off of you.
Yujin scoffs, “I don’t even see how you could have feelings for a slut like her.” she mumbles, taking a sip of a drink her friend brought for her. Sunghoon keeps his attention on you. How Sungchan keeps you close, whispers in your ear to make you giggle and you indulge in it, how he touches you, and how he looks at you as if he’s some sick animal that wants to devour you. “Did you even hear me?” Yujin asks, pissed off.
“Yeah, I heard you.” Sunghoon mumbles as he continues watching the two of you.
Yujin glares at him and then grabs his hand, dragging him away from her friends. Sunghoon just goes along with it and as Yujin starts dragging him upstairs, Sungchan leas in and kisses you. Sunghoon’s eyes widen as he continues going upstairs with Yujin, her dragging him into an empty bedroom and closes the door behind them. Sunghoon feels like all thoughts had escaped him when he saw that and he stands there with only one thing on his mind: you.
“Let’s have sex.” Yujin says as she looks at him.
Sunghoon snaps out of it and looks at her, feeling like this is his first time seeing her tonight. He looks at her in confusion, not wanting to since he only has you on his mind, but he doesn’t want to upset her any further, so he nods his head. Yujin pulls him towards her and kisses him. He hesitates, feeling himself grimace, but he tries to ignore it and kiss her back. He doesn’t want to be up here with her, he wants to be down there with you. As they continue to kiss, Yujin begins to undress herself and Sunghoon feels himself tense up. He tries to forget about you and focus on her, thinking maybe helping her undress would help, but it doesn’t. Not even a little bit. 
Yujin moves them over to the bed as she keeps kissing him and he sits there, partially kissing her back and also sitting stiff as a board. He knows this is supposed to be hot for him, having a practically naked girl on him, but he only finds himself wishing it was you. Yujin kisses down his neck as she takes off his shirt and he feels like he’s zoning out, not moving a muscle. Yujin moves her hands along his chest and down his body and then stops kissing him as she looks at him.
“You’re not even hard.” she says as she frowns. Sunghoon just stares at her, not necessarily surprised, but he still feels bad. "What the hell do you even like about her? She's a fucking whore who opens her legs for any and every guy. She has nothing else to offer besides her fucking pussy, which probably is already stretched beyond repair." Yujin says, angry. "She's nothing! She's not even special and yet she always gets any guy she wants. Well, why does she get you too?" Yujin tears up. "I'M your girlfriend, not her! Do you even love me?" Yujin asks, frustrated.
Sunghoon knows her anger is justified and he feels awful for feeling like he wants her to be you instead. As he watches and hears her say all of these things, he feels bad for treating her like this, but he also becomes angry at listening to what she’s saying about you. He feels bad for saying it feels like he doesn’t know you, because he does, and he knows you’re nothing like who she says you are.
“Answer me!” Yujin yells.
“I do love you.” Sunghoon says quickly.
“...do you love her?”
He stays quiet. Does he love you? He doesn’t know how to answer that. He knows he cares about you more than anyone else, he knows that even when you two fight, he would never want anyone else but you to be by his side, he knows that you’re the only one who gets him, he knows he likes making you smile and laugh and sometimes when you look at him, he feels like he can just look back at you forever. But is that love? Then, what is it he feels for Yujin? Does he love you and not her? How come he never realized it before? Did he always feel this way?
"Why the hell did you even ask me out? Why did you even ask me to be your girlfriend if all this time, you've wanted her? If all this time you've been in love with her?" Yujin asks, furious.
What is he supposed to say? Has he always been in love with you? He thinks for a moment. He thinks about why he asked her out in the first place, about a week after you hooked up with some guy after you two just started college. Was that the reason? Was it because he just wanted something and he knows deep down, you don’t want the same, so he found it somewhere else? You…everything has always been about you, his whole world has always revolved around you.
Yujin gets up and gets dressed. "If you want to be with her so badly, fine. But just know, she's still a whore. She'll just use you and then toss you aside." Yujin says as she finishes getting dressed. "But by all means, go sleep with that slut. We're done." Yujin says as she leaves the room.
Sunghoon sits on the bed in silence. Just great. Now, he doesn’t have a girlfriend and worst of all, he still can’t have you. He sits there for a moment longer before getting up and putting back on his shirt. Screw this party, he shouldn’t have come anyway. He walks out of the bedroom and goes downstairs, feeling like his mind is in a different place as he walks outside. He stops and notices you sitting on the curb, smoking a cigarette. He feels relieved, not seeing you in Sungchan’s arms, and for a split second, he wishes he could just walk over and take you into his, but he pushes that thought away and just decides to take a seat beside you on the curb instead. You scoot away a bit from him, silence looming over the two of you and he feels even worse. 
“You shouldn’t be sitting here, you know. Your girlfriend might get pissy.” you mumble as you exhale some smoke.
“I’m not with Yujin anymore.”
You pause for a moment, “...I saw you two go upstairs.”
“She just…got upset that I couldn’t get hard. I just had so many thoughts running through my mind…” he trails off, not wanting to ramble on about it.
“Whatever.” you say as you take another drag.
“I wish I never asked her out.” he says before taking a deep breath, feeling like he said something he didn’t even realize he was keeping a secret, not even from himself.
“Why are you telling me this? In case you forgot, I am not your friend anymore. Not after what you and her said about me this morning.” You take another drag, “It's one thing for her to call me a slut, I don't care about her, but you? You agreed with her. You made fun of me. You're supposed to be my best friend and you say I'm a slut and then that you aren't "stupid" enough to date "someone like me"?  Fuck you, honestly. I was so pissed when I heard that. I know we fought the other night, but I never thought you would say that shit about me.” You take another drag. “So stop talking to me about your problems like we're still friends. You want nothing to do with "someone like me"? Well, then, you got it.”
Sunghoon stays silent, feeling as if everything around him is crumbling. You’re sitting maybe a foot away from him, but he feels like you’re on the other side of the planet. “I’m sorry.” he says softly, feeling ashamed to have talked about you like that.
You shake your head and continue smoking. “Whatever.”
“I miss you.” he says suddenly. “And, I shouldn’t have said any of that this morning. I was trying to reassure Yujin at your expense and…that was a big fuck up by me. None of what I said was worth any pain I’ve caused you.”
“Well, I don’t miss you. I don’t even care.”
Sunghoon stays quiet for a moment. “I have to fix this. Not because I feel like it will make me feel better to know I said sorry, because that doesn’t fix anything; that doesn’t make you feel better. I want to fix this because, even if you don’t believe me, I value our friendship more than anything in the world.”
You scoff and don’t reply, blinking away your tears as you continue smoking. “I don’t need you. Think what you want about me, I don’t give a fuck.”
“Hey…” he says tentatively as he notices you blinking away tears. He feels like he got punched in the gut and hates himself for knowing he’s the one that caused you to feel this way. “I know I hurt you…a lot.” he admits. He doesn’t know if you would want to listen to anything else he has to say, but he wants nothing more than for everything to go back to normal. To have you back. To just have you look at him. Anything.
You scoff, “You? As if.” you say as you put out your cigarette. “Don’t flatter yourself. Like I care about your opinion.” you say as you stand up. “I don’t need your pity and I don’t need your friendship. I don’t need you.” you say as you walk away and back into the party.
He doesn’t hesitate to follow you, not wanting to let you go. He can’t. He can’t bear the thought of you actually not being a part of his life, not for one goddamn second. He tries to catch up to you, but he stops in his tracks when he sees you go back over to Sungchan. It feels as though time has stopped and he was cursed with having to watch you be with him for the rest of his life. You whisper something to Sungchan, prompting him to grin and put his hands on your waist. Sunghoon feels like he’s about to collapse as he watches Sungchan whisper something back to you before taking your hand and leading you upstairs. He wants to do something, take you away from him, tell you that you mean so much more and are so much more than whatever Sungchan thinks about you. How you mean everything to him and watching you walk upstairs with some other guy feels as though you are taking away every piece of Sunghoon, breaking him apart. But he doesn’t and an hour passes before you walk back downstairs with Sungchan, his arm around your waist.
Sungchan whispers something in your ear before letting you go and walking over to his friends, all of them laughing and teasing him. You just walk back out of the party, feeling sick to your stomach; as if you just made the biggest mistake of your life; shame. As you walk down the sidewalk, the night suddenly feels much colder than before. You take out your cigarettes and start smoking another one. Sunghoon follows and catches up, “Can I have one?” he asks, not knowing what else to say, but wanting to say something. You stay quiet, but eventually extend the one you were smoking to him. You stop walking as he takes it, taking a drag as he stands beside you. 
You hold out your hand, wanting it back and after he takes another inhale from it, he exchanges it back. You take another drag, staying quiet, as you extend it back to him. He takes it as you two share the cigarette and he hands it back to you, almost wanting to just hold your hand instead. You take a long drag, holding the smoke for a while before slowly exhaling. “...you were right.” you say quietly as you hold the cigarette out for him. “It is lonely.”
He takes the cigarette, feeling hopeful that this is the beginning of an honest conversation, and relieved that you’re opening up. He hands it back to you, “Are you lonely? Do you miss having a relationship?” he asks, softly, wanting to make sure he’s being cautious so he doesn’t hurt you again.
“Not the ones I used to be in, no. Those guys were…well, you know.”
“Yeah…” he mumbles. You sigh and take a seat on the curb. He follows suit, seeing if you’ll say something else, but deciding to break the silence. “So…what kind of guy do you want?” he asks, deep down hoping for a certain answer. 
You don’t answer him and instead, ignore his question. In all honesty, you don’t know. Well, you do, but you’re too scared to admit it. “You were also right about me being a slut.”
“I-I didn’t mean it-”
“You know it, everybody else knows it…and I always knew it.” You take your cigarette back and take a drag. “Hearing you say it sucked, though, but I know it’s the truth.”
“I shouldn’t have said it. I was so caught up in trying to make Yujin feel better and fix things between us when it wasn’t worth it. Not when it came at your expense.”
“I know.”
“I should’ve still stuck up for you. It didn’t matter if she was my girlfriend, you don’t deserve to be talked about like that.”
You shrug and hand him the cigarette, lighting a new one for yourself to smoke. “I don’t care anymore. Hooking up with Sungchan just now made me realize it. Seeing and hearing his friends tease him for it…” you take a long drag, “I knew that’s what I am.”
He does the same and looks at you. “Did you want to hook up with him?”
“No.”
“Then, why did you do it?” You ignore his question and keep smoking. “Hey…” he says softly. He knows you’re avoiding his question, but he wants to hear what you have to say.
“What happened with you and Yujin tonight?” you ask, wanting to change the subject.
“Just…an argument.”
“About…?”
“That’s not important.”
“You wanted to tell me all about it earlier. You said something about you not getting hard and regretting asking her out. What the hell happened? I thought you loved her or whatever.” you mumble as you inhale more smoke, a part of you hoping it chokes you.
“I do love her. But I guess…it meant something different to her. She wanted things from me I couldn’t do.”
“Like what.”
“Like…her not wanting us to be friends anymore.”
You scoff before continuing to smoke. “You should’ve chosen her.”
Sunghoon raises an eyebrow as he takes a drag. “You think I shouldn't have chosen my friend who's been with me through thick and thin over someone who was basically controlling who I talked to?”
“She was just controlling that you don't talk to me. Can't blame her, she probably thought I would try to sleep with you or something. Besides, since when did us being friends for so long suddenly matter? It didn't when you agreed with her about me being a slut.”
“It matters to me.” He says, feeling his heart sink a little at your words. It seemed like you didn’t think your friendship meant anything. He takes another drag and sighs quietly before continuing. “You’re my best friend. I care about you more than anyone else.” You stay silent as you continue to smoke. “Do you really think I don’t care about you?” he asks, softly. You just keep smoking, not really sure how to answer. He sighs to himself as he does the same and his mind wanders to thinking about you and Sungchan again. He rolls his eyes to himself as he tries to push those thoughts out of his head.
“You asked me if I ever felt heartbreak when we fought that night, talking about if that’s why I have commitment issues or whatever.” you say as you take another drag. “Yeah…I have.”
“Was the heartbreak from…” he let’s the question linger in the air for a moment, “a relationship?” You shake your head. “So…what was it from then? Who broke your heart?”
You stay silent for a moment, just smoking “...i didn't realize I fell in love with him until he got a girlfriend, well, his first serious girlfriend. At first, I didn't really care, but then…” you go quiet for a moment as you keep looking ahead, not at him. “The way he talked about her, would smile a certain way when he was with her, like he's never smiled at me before...laughing at jokes they shared...seeing him kiss her, hold her hand…” you take another drag, “holding her hand..” you repeat, like you’re lost in thought. “It's something so stupid and simple, but I've never had a guy hold my hand romantically...but he held hers and I remember feeling like I couldn't breathe. I couldn't do a damn thing but suddenly wish I was his girlfriend instead. And then I realized. I loved him.” you take another drag, “I loved him and he was in love with someone else.”
He stayed quiet the whole time you talked. He took in every single word. He took in how you said every single word, how you looked as you spoke. He felt his heart break for you. The way you talked about it was nothing like he’s ever heard you talk about; so…innocent. “Did you ever try to tell him how you felt?”
You stay quiet for a moment as you swallow. “I almost did. One time. I just felt so tired from pretending and I didn't want to just hookup with anyone anymore. I wanted to be his more than anything in the world. I almost told him and then…” you take another drag from your cigarette. “He started telling me about how he finally had sex with his girlfriend. How hot she is. How he had never seen anyone so beautiful. How he couldn't believe he was so lucky to be dating her. Fuck-” you pinch your thigh to stop yourself from crying as you take another drag. “I felt so...gross. I had never had a guy say that about me, never had a guy be proud to be with me, but the way he talked about her and everything he was saying...I knew he would laugh in my face if I, just some slut, was in love with him; he would feel grossed out or whatever. No matter how close I thought we were, I knew right then and there I would never be like her. Never like the girl he wanted.” you take another drag, “So I didn't say anything.”
Sunghoon stayed quiet again, feeling awful. He hated that you thought about yourself that way. He hated that other people had made you feel that…him included. He hated this guy, especially, for making you feel this way. What a piece of shit. You deserve nothing but the best and this guy pulls this bullshit with you? He was about ready to punch him in the face. “And you’re still friends with him? After he did all of this to you?”
“He’s all I’ve ever had.”
“He’s not all you have, though. What about me?” he asks, intending to make something positive out of this all. He just wants you to know how precious you are to him because he cares about you so much. 
This, doesn’t help whatsoever, and you feel like you’re about to burst into tears. You can’t tell if he’s the idiot or if you are; maybe the latter. But when he says that, you just feel like sobbing, curling up into a ball, and dying right then and there. You pinch your thigh again, to prevent yourself from crying because you absolutely loathe it.
He notices and immediately puts his hand on yours to stop you. He hates seeing you like this and he looks at you, not wanting you to suppress this anymore.
His hand on yours, however, makes you feel even worse. Worse because it makes your stomach do flips and you can feel your heart beat faster. Worse because you know it only carries the connotation of a friend comforting a friend…nothing more. You pull your hand away and continue smoking.
He doesn’t say anything and he doesn’t try to take your hand back. It hurts him to see you pull yourself away. He just wants to make you feel better, feel safe, feel loved. Feel nothing but happiness because that’s all you deserve. But you don’t. He wants to give you everything, and so, he tries again to comfort you. He reaches for your hand, gently taking it into his, it enveloping yours as he holds it as if it is the most delicate thing on earth.
“Don’t.” you whisper, taking your hand away.
You didn’t want to. God, you didn’t want to. His hand felt like silk against yours, but you felt like you didn’t deserve it. Compared to his, your hand was like felt, worth far less than his. You didn’t want him to hold your hand, not like this. You wanted it to mean something, have some sort of value. Not for comfort. Not because he’s your best friend. Not because he felt bad. But because he loved you. Because he wanted to hold your hand and be proud as he held it. Because he wanted to claim you as is. Because you wanted to be his.
He lets go of your hand and stays silent for a moment. It was as if a part of him died inside as you pulled away your hand. All the thoughts that he was having a few seconds ago were replaced by sadness. His hands tightened into fists from the frustration of being unable to comfort you or take away your sadness. He wanted so desperately to try again, but he knew that there was nothing he could do right now. Slowly, he takes another drag of his cigarette, and you do the same with yours.
“Did you cry whenever he would talk about his girlfriend like that? Did you cry anytime he complimented her?”
You don’t answer for a while. “Yeah. When he told me he loved her, I cried later. After that, I pretended like I didn't care. And for a while, it worked. I would just hook up with guys and I would still talk and hang out with him because he didn't treat me like what everyone else saw me as. He never did. And that's one of the reasons I fell in love with him, I guess, but then sometimes...he would start talking about her and then I just...felt worse. At some point, I just kind of felt numb about it, especially after he told me about the first time they had sex. He talked about it like it was so special...like she was so special...and I just decided then and there I couldn't love him. So, I just pretended and after a while, I thought I didn't love him anymore, but one night, he started talking about how he couldn't lose his girlfriend, how he wanted to make things with her work and I felt that same feeling again, like I was going to be sick. Then, I heard him say what he really thought about me and that was the last time I cried about him.”
“What did he say about you? Did he insult you?” he asks as he feels himself becoming angry, wondering what this jerk could’ve possibly said about you to make you feel this way. But, you don’t answer, you just remain quiet and that made him want to punch this guy even more. “Do you miss him?” he asks, quietly.
“...i miss being oblivious to the fact that I love him.”
He feels his heart drop when you say that. You still love him? He swallows, feeling like he’s choking and as if all of the oxygen has been sucked out of the atmosphere. “So…you do love him. You’re still in love with him?” Once you ignore him again, the answer is clear. “You do still love him…” he mumbles. Anger courses through his veins because you’re in love with someone so fucking awful. How could you give all of yourself to someone who is too blind to see how much you’re worth? How much you mean and value you provide to the meaning of life it’s goddamn self? He watches as you continue smoking. “So, you mean to tell me, after everything he’s done to you, you still love him?”
“He doesn’t know.”
“He doesn’t know you’re in love with him?”
“I told you, I never told him.”
This doesn’t help him feel any less bad for you. Some douche was out and about being happy and in love while you suffer on the sidelines? “Are you ever going to tell him?”
You shake your head as you look down. How could you? Especially since you’re delivering this whole pathetic monologue and he still isn’t taking any goddamn hint. 
“Is it because he’s still with his girlfriend?”
“I don’t want to talk about this.” you say as you finish your cigarette.
He becomes frustrated, “Is he?”
“No.”
“So, they broke up.” You ignore his question once more. He waits a few seconds before speaking up again, “I’m taking that as a ‘yes’ then.”
“Why does it matter? Why do you care?”
“Why do I care?” he asks as if this question has the most obvious answer. He scoffs and takes another drag out of frustration. “Because I’m your best friend, dumbass.”
This only makes you frown as you pinch your thigh again to stop the tears threatening to fall. He frowns as well when he sees this and reaches his hand over again. “Stop.” he says as he grabs your hand. You look down at your hands and you take yours away again. He feels a lump form in his throat when you pull your hand away as a pit of sadness just keeps growing and growing in his stomach. “Why are you doing that? …do you honestly think I don’t care about you?” You just keep staring ahead of you, not looking at him once. He takes another drag and sighs. “Have I ever given you a reason for you to think that I don’t care? Have I hurt you like that guy did?”
His questions make you stay silent for a long time. You wish that you could just disappear. Or that you could go back in time and stop yourself from having these stupid feelings. Or…that you never met him in the first place. Maybe then things would be easier. Better.
“Just…answer me.” he says, pleading, almost. He wants you to understand that he is here for you, he always will be and nothing is going to get in the way of that anymore. He wants this to be clear, so he tries to hold your hand again to show his support, but you take it away once he does.
“Are you pretending or are you actually this clueless?” you ask, becoming frustrated, your voice having a hint of pain in it.
His stomach tightened when you rejected him once more. He doesn’t look at you, suddenly afraid to see your expression. He doesn’t know what to do, how to make you feel better. He stays silent for a moment and continues smoking. “Pretending about what?” he asks. You become increasingly frustrated and pinch your thigh again. He notices and grabs your hand again, “Stop.” he says sternly, but you pull your hand away. 
“Jesus, you’re the guy.”
He feels himself freeze. “What the hell do you mean ‘I’m the guy’?”
“Are you dense?” you raise an eyebrow. “You’re the guy I’ve been talking about this whole damn time!”
“...i’m the guy?” he asks, completely stunned. You let out a huff of frustration and stand up, walking away. He doesn’t hesitate to stand up and go after you. He grabs your arm to stop you. “Wait, you can’t just leave…”
You keep pinching your thigh, a part of you believing it will wake you up from this nightmare as you avoid his gaze. You take your arm away from his grip. “Just forget it.”
“No. You just said I’m the guy, right? The one you’re in love with?” He asks, all of his focus on you. You ignore his question and turn around, walking away. He groans and he moves in front of you, stopping you. “You love me?” But you just avoid his gaze and don’t answer his question. He sighs, “I’m not letting you leave until you tell me.”
“No.”
He frowns. “Look at me.” he whispers. “Please…” he moves closer to you. “Do you love me?”
“Why does it matter?”
“You tell me. Why doesn’t it matter?”
You punch your thigh harshly a few times as you finally look at him. Your breath hitches as tears well in your eyes, despite you trying to ignore them. “Because I’m just a slut.”
He grabs your hand and stops you. He feels panicked, not knowing what to do or say. He doesn’t want you to cry or punish yourself. “Stop it. Stop with that bullshit. You’re not a slut, don’t you dare ever call yourself that.”
“You said it yourself. You agree with everyone else. I know you don't feel the same. I know you'll never talk about me the way you talk about Yujin or see me the way you see her. I know you said you guys broke up, but so what? I know what I am and I know that's all I'll ever be.”
He feels tears prick his own eyes as he listens to you. He shakes his head, “Stop that. Stop saying that I’ll never feel the same. Stop saying that you’re just a slut.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter! It matters to me. You’re not just “some slut”. You’re my best friend.”
You frown as you feel the urge to cry become stronger. You take your hand away and you pinch your thigh again, just wanting the tears to go away. What he said made you feel awful. It’s not what you wanted to hear. You didn’t want to be just that…and he just kept reminding you that that’s all you are. “...do you honestly think that makes me feel better?”
He frowns, “Fine. Maybe it doesn’t make you feel better. But it should. Because it’s the fucking truth.”
“Are you even thinking about what I told you? Are you even thinking about how you're the guy I've been talking about? How every time you talked about Yujin, every time I saw you hold her hand, how you talked about her when you told me about the first time you guys had sex, that I just wanted to curl up and die? You don't get it. You calling me your best friend doesn't make me feel any fucking better. It makes me feel worse than when people call me a slut. But I don't want you to stand here and try to make me feel better, because if you think telling me you care about me because I'm your 'best friend' is going to make me feel better, then you haven't listened to a damn thing I've said.”
He stares at you sympathetically. He stares at you as he realizes just how badly he’s broken your heart. As he realizes he broke your heart. 
“I don't want to be your best friend. I don't want you to tell me I'm your best friend.” You keep pinching your thigh harder, but tears roll down your cheeks anyway. “I wanted it to be me.” you say as you cry even though you keep pinching harder. “I wanted to hold your hand romantically. I wanted you to smile at me the way you did with her. I wanted you to talk about me the way you talked about her.” Your breath hitches as you cry and pinch your thigh harder, your nails digging into your skin. “I wanted to be special to you. I wanted you to tell me you love me. I wanted to be your girlfriend...more than anything in the world.” You cry harder even though you try not to and you dig your nails more into your thigh.
He’s never seen you cry. Not when you broke your arm, not when your pet goldfish died, not when your first boyfriend broke up with you, not even when you get incredibly frustrated. He has never seen you cry. But he hates it. He doesn’t want to see you so sad, so hurt, in so much pain…and he hated it even more because he–the one person you loved more than anything else–was the one who was making you feel this way. He pulls you into him, hugging you tightly, just wanting to take your pain away, just wanting you to…feel loved. But you push him away and wipe your tears, and he notices the imprints from your nails on your thighs. He doesn’t even realize it, but he reaches his hand out and gently touches the marks as he looks at them. He touches the ridges softly and your skin feels so smooth to him, so precious, but you push his hand away. His eyes travel up to meet yours and he sees you’ve stopped crying.
“Why wouldn’t you just have told me how you felt?” he asks, quietly.
“For starters, you had a girlfriend. The other reason: it doesn’t matter.”
“What if I never got with Yujin? What if I was single the whole time?”
“I didn’t realize I loved you until you started dating her…”
“Why her? I’ve dated other girls before, so why her?”
You shrug, “She’s the only one you really seemed to be serious about…the only one you told you loved. Besides…I’m not some sort of homewrecker.”
“I wish you told me.” he whispers. “You were never going to tell me?”
“No.”
“So, you were just hoping I would never find out?”
“Yes.”
“So, you were just going to keep that secret for the rest of your life?”
“Yeah.”
“So, you were just going to live with that pain forever?”
“Are you going to keep asking the same question?”
“I just want to know…” he says as if he’s desperate. “Why…why would you not tell me?”
“Because you were with Yujin! Because you kept telling me how much you loved her! How pretty you thought she was, how happy you were to be with her, how smart and kind and funny and fucking perfect you thought she was! You were happy. You were happy with someone who wasn't me and although that killed me, you were happy. I couldn't do that to you.” you say as your voice breaks.
“So that justified you suffering in silence? Why would you rather see me happy while you were in pain?”
You look at him like the answer was obvious. How does he not get it? You stare at him as you remain quiet, looking at him as if it’s your last time. “Because I love you.” you say, softly.
He feels like you’re looking at him as if he is the most special person to walk on earth. He swallows out of nervousness as he realizes you gave him your heart completely. “You love me so much that you were willing to put yourself through hell just to see me be happy?” He doesn’t feel worthy of that…but you seem to think he is. You love him.
“Wouldn’t you have done the same for Yujin?”
You don’t want to hear him answer this. You don’t want to know, but you feel like he doesn’t understand. You feel like you keep repeating yourself and he’s relishing in it. 
He doesn’t know how to answer. Would he? Hearing how you describe your love for him, he realizes what he felt for Yujin maybe wasn’t love. Maybe it was comfort. Or security. Or the fact that someone wanted to be with him so seriously. Maybe he did love her, but…not the way you love him. This sounds like love. This sounds like what he was supposed to feel. “Yes…” he says, not really sure if that’s true. He wants to believe he loves her. He wants to believe he didn’t waste almost four years on something that ends up meaning absolutely nothing. He has to love her.
“Then you get it.”
“Did you just hope we would break up one day so you and I would get together?”
You sigh, “You still don't get it. I know you don't feel the same way. I know I am not the type of girl you want to be with. I'm not the type of girl any guy wants to be with seriously.”
How could you say that about yourself? Sunghoon doesn’t believe any of that, not for a single fucking second. “That isn’t true. You’re smart, kind, funny, and pretty.”
“Stop.”
“No. It’s true. Everything I just said is true. You think no guy would be able to fall in love with you, but they would. You would make an awesome girlfriend.” he tries to reassure you.
You don’t want any guy.
“You’re not making me feel better.”
“What am I supposed to do, then? Agree with the bullshit you’re saying about yourself? Because that’s not fucking happening.”
“What I want you to say…you can’t.”
“Try me. Tell me.”
You just look at him. He doesn’t get it. He isn’t saying it because he doesn’t feel the same. This realization makes you feel like you’re crumpling. You look at him, defeated. If you have to tell him, you know he would only say it to make you feel better, not because he actually wants to. That. That’s what hurts the most. He would say it because you’re his best friend…but you don’t want to be.
“...are you going to try and get back together with Yujin?”
He pauses. He thinks about it for a second. “Right now…I don’t know. I guess a part of me wants to try still. Does that make me shitty?” He’s not sure why he does. Yujin is the first girl he’s ever told he loved…and he doesn’t say it often. Maybe he’s like you, in a way. He doesn’t really like saying stuff like that. It felt weird when he said it. But he thinks that’s just because he’s never said it before. 
“Why would I?”
“I feel like an asshole for even considering it after everything you’ve told me-”
“She’s the one you love.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” he says, truthfully. He just needs to think. He just needs one damn second to think.
“Then let me make it clear: be with her. From my perspective, she's the one you want. What I told you, how I so stupidly cried in front of you, that doesn't matter. I told you this earlier: you should've chosen her. So just, make up with her tomorrow or whatever and be with her.” you swallow. “...but I can't be your friend.”
He sees you giving up. He hears it. He hates it. His mind is running a thousand miles per minute, he can’t fucking think and it’s pissing him off. “It’s not that easy. I can’t just ‘choose’ between the two of you. I’m confused, I just…I want to be with whoever makes me happy.”
He’s always been happy with you. Sure, you two fought, but you always got over it. You make him happy. So goddamn happy. But he’s scared. He just gave nearly four years of his life to Yujin…what if it’s because he does love her? 
“That’s her.”
“How are you so sure it’s not you?”
“I know.”
He groans in frustration. “So, I have to choose between the two of you?”
You. He chooses you. He’s not sure about the rest of it, but all he knows is that he chooses you. Four years with Yujin doesn’t compare to the years you and him have had together. Nothing else matters. You. Just you.
“Just be with her.”
“What if I want to be with you?”
He hasn’t thought about it. Maybe he chooses you only as a best friend. What if he doesn’t choose you for love? …does he love you? He recalls the teasing from classmates when you guys were younger, but he's never really given any thought to it possibly becoming real. Does he love you the same way he loves Yujin? Does he even love Yujin? He doesn’t know…he just doesn’t know.
“You don’t.”
“And what makes you so sure that I choose Yujin over you? What makes you so sure you’re ‘not enough’ for me?”
“...because you would’ve chosen me first.”
“I can still choose you.”
You sigh, “You're making this complicated. You know she's the one you love, stop feeling bad for me like I'm some lost puppy and just admit it. I don't want your pity and I certainly don't want you to say you ‘choose me’ because you're confusing your pity for feelings. Stop saying I'm this great girl and stop saying any guy would be lucky to have me, that makes me feel worse. So just make up with Yujin and get back with her. Reassure her that you love her because you do and tell her I won't be a problem anymore because you and I aren't anything anymore. Problem solved.”
Is this really what you believed? Is this really what you thought? He just needed some time, he can’t think. He doesn’t know what to think anymore. You were speaking as if it was impossible for him to love you, but what if he does? How is he supposed to know? How did he know with Yujin? He’s questioning whether he even loved her since he can’t even compare how he feels about you with whatever he felt with her. He just knows it’s stronger. But stronger in what way? He sees how you’re looking at him and he realizes the only way for him to succeed in making you feel better–which is what he truly wants–is to just listen to you. He doesn’t want to. But he wants to see you be happy, even if it means he isn’t.
“Are you really sure this is what you want me to do?” he barely asks, the words leaving his mouth without any fervor, as if he never wanted to utter them in the first place. As if he doesn’t want to hear your answer; see you walk out of his life.
You don’t answer him. You just look at him before walking past him. You hold your breath, knowing that once you exhale, you’re going to start sobbing. You felt so lonely. So lonely. You’ve always had him…and then you lost him to Yujin…and now, you’ve lost him for good.
He doesn’t turn around to look at you as you walk away, because he knows if he does, he will run after you and that clearly isn’t what you want. You want to let him go, at least that’s how he understands it. He doesn’t want that. He wants you. He knows that much, he knows he needs you. He’s not sure how things will look without you now. He never thought it would be like this, but here he is. …why does this feel so much worse than when Yujin walked away from him? Why does this hurt more than his actual breakup? The reason is one he doesn’t want to admit. He realizes the answer and he refuses to let it grow to fruition. He doesn’t know why it took him until now to figure it out, but he’ll realize that later. He wanted time…now, he’s got it.
-
Deja vu. That’s what this all feels like. Here Sunghoon was, again, at another stupid frat party around midnight. Here he was, again, with Yujin. He took your advice, he decided to apologize and get back together with her, and these past few months without you have felt like torture. Even using torture to describe it seems too dull. He has thought about nothing but you. He’s heard around campus about people you’ve hooked up with, but he doesn’t feed into it. As he stands here with Yujin at this godforsaken party, all he can feel is regret. He leans against a wall as Yujin talks with her friends and he practically chugs his drink. He doesn’t even want to leave the party because he doesn't think it's worth to waste any of his wants on anything but you. You make up all of his desires and he wants nothing more than for you to be back into his life. He finishes the rest of his drink and to his surprise, he does see you. He stands up straighter as he looks at you, but feels like his insides are on fire when he realizes you’re making out with Sungchan. On the couch. On the couch, you are making out with Sungchan. On the couch, Sungchan is running his hands along your hips and waist. On the couch, you let him. 
You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss Sunghoon. A part of you went missing the night you walked away from him. You’ve seen him around campus with Yujin and eventually, it finally felt like you were over it all. Over him. You wouldn’t say you’ve been getting around quite frequently, but you won’t lie when you say that you did get with some guys to help get over him. It didn’t work. But you won’t admit to that. To you, at least, you’re over it. Over him. Sungchan helped a bit with some of the lonely nights, but you two aren’t anything serious. He’s not into that sort of thing and, hey, neither are you…so this is fine. He doesn’t lie to you about how he feels or what he wants and for that, you’re grateful. Although, you do have to admit, making out with him feels boring. Being with him feels boring. It’s not fun like it used to be…and even then, you aren’t completely sure it was even fun in the first place. Whatever, you’ll get into it at some point.
Sunghoon watches, now it really feels like deja vu. Is he dreaming? Or…is this him getting a second chance? Is this when he can finally pull you away from Sungchan and be there for you? Finally tell you how he feels? How he felt the whole time…? Suddenly, his spirits are slightly lifted, that is, until Yujin crosses her arms and scoffs before shoving him. Sunghoon is surprised and turns his attention towards her. Some people look at them, but Yujin doesn’t care, she just looks at Sunghoon, furious.
“Do you even want me to be your girlfriend?”
Maybe honesty wouldn’t be best right now. “I do…”
“Then stop looking at her.”
“Let’s…not make a scene.” he says, trying to calm her down.
“Just be honest for once: do you love me or her?”
He doesn’t know how to answer. He knows his answer, he’s had months to figure it out. But…you made yourself clear. You were done with each other. He sighs. “Can I get a moment to figure it out?” he asks, honestly a bit surprised he didn’t just cave and reassure her.
Yujin frowns and scoffs. “Let me ask you this, then. Do you wish that you were making out with her?”
He looks back at you and Sungchan, seeing him whisper something to you and you giggling before he kisses you again. He looks back at Yujin. “Yeah.” he swallows, gathering all of his courage. “But, that sounds…awful. It’s like you want me to admit I regret getting back together with you or something-”
“Do you?”
“Yes.” he answers without hesitation. He feels all of his muscles tense up. Did he really just say that? Well…it’s the truth, but he never thought he would say it. He feels…better.
Yujin quickly squashes that by slapping him, “We’re done.” she says before storming out, her friends following. Sure, the slap hurt, but as Sunghoon looks back at you and Sungchan…the pain from the slap seems so insignificant in comparison.
You decide to tell Sungchan you’re getting a drink, so you get up from the couch and go into the kitchen. You pour yourself a drink and once you do, you walk to the backyard and take a seat on the patio. 
Sunghoon figures you want to be alone…but finds himself following you outside anyway. He walks over to you cautiously. You and him have spoken consistently for practically your whole lives, but he finds himself struggling to even say a simple sentence or ask a question. The time you’ve spent apart was multiple days…too many fucking days in his opinion. He can’t stand it. “Can I sit here?” he asks, referencing the spot beside you. You shrug as you take a sip of your drink. He feels relieved, baby steps, right? He takes a seat beside you and thinks for a moment on how to keep the conversation going. “So…what were you telling Sungchan?” …has he lost the ability to socialize or something because why was this the question he asks? He bites his bottom lip a bit in frustration at himself.
“Spying on me?” you tease as you extend your cup, offering him some.
Sunghoon chuckles softly and shakes his head. Hearing your voice for the first time in months makes him remember just how much he’s missed you. He feels like everything in his life is restored and he smiles a bit. “You guys were all over each other on the couch, is it really weird for me to wonder?”
You shrug, “I mean, just typical flirting and dirty talk or whatever. Why?”
He feels his breath catch in his throat. “Dirty talk”?...what the fuck? “Um…no reason…I guess I was just…curious or something.” he mumbles.
“Are you here with Yujin?” you ask as you take another sip of your drink.
He shakes his head. “Well, not anymore. She broke up with me so…I’m alone now.” he realizes how that might’ve come off. “Alone here now…not…me alone altogether…or anything.” he cringes and looks away from you, feeling completely stupid. 
“What? Why did she break up with you?”
“She…saw me…looking at you and Sungchan…so she broke up with me.” he says, not really wanting to say the other stuff from the argument. You laugh in response and he frowns. “Don’t laugh.”
You nudge his shoulder, “It’s okay. If she broke up with you for that dumb of a reason, her loss.” You say as you take another sip.
He smiles slightly. It feels like old times. It feels like he has you back. It feels like you want him back. “Yeah, you’re probably right. It’s probably best I don’t have her constantly being suspicious about me and you.”
“Especially since we haven’t talked in months.”
He feels caught off guard by your blunt statement. Sure, it’s true…but it sounds like you didn’t miss him. “Yeah…we haven’t talked in a while.” You just take another sip of your drink and he looks back at you. “I’ve missed you.” He waited for you to say something back, but you didn’t. “I’ve um…missed talking to you like before. Like, before…everything got complicated and stuff-”
“I know what you meant.”
He nods his head a bit, everything now feeling awkward. “So…what have you been up to? Anything interesting happen?”
“Nope.”
“Really? Nothing? Nothing at all?”
“Yup” you say as you take another drink.
“So…for the past few months, you’ve done absolutely nothing interesting?” he asks, his tone being more lighthearted and joking to try and diffuse the tension.
“No offense, but I’m not really looking to ‘catch up’ with you.”
Sunghoon feels his heart stop for a moment, but he tries to play it off. “Okay, ouch.” he laughs nervously, “So you’re not even remotely interested in talking with me?”
You shrug, “I dunno. These past few months without you, I’ve kinda just been doing my own thing, I guess.”
Your response left him feeling worthless. Like, he didn’t even mean a single thing to you before. Which, he knows isn’t true…but you sound like you mean it. “So, you haven’t missed me at all? Not even talking to me?”
“At first, yeah. But don’t worry, I’m not in love with you anymore.”
“...you’re not…in love with me anymore…?” he asks as he feels his blood run cold. You just shake your head and continue drinking from your cup. His heart sinks immediately. He feels small; insignificant. His mind jumps back to Sungchan and he frowns. “Are you in love with him now?”
“Him?”
“Sungchan.”
“Eh,” you shrug, “we’re not dating, just casual, I guess.”
“So, you’re not exclusive with him?”
“No.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
“Yeah.”
He feels himself growing jealous and frustrated. How could you give yourself to someone who doesn’t love you? Sunghoon feels upset, realizing he unintentionally did the same thing, but still, not to this extent. He knows you. He knows you don’t want this…hopefully. But he sure as hell knows that you don’t deserve this. 
“That’s ridiculous. How can you be committed to this?”
“I’m not committed.”
He groans, “That’s…not what I meant. What do you two even get out of this?”
You shrug, “Why do you care? I get you’re a relationship guy even though you’ve only been serious with one girl, but don’t shit on me and what I choose to do.”
The way you spoke got under his skin. “I care because I happen to care about the people around me. In case you haven’t noticed, I care about you.” But you just roll your eyes. “Don’t roll your eyes. I’m being serious. Why do you feel like this isn’t worth talking about?”
“Because we aren’t friends. We aren’t anything. I don’t need your input.”
It feels like you’ve slapped him in the face, and this time, it fucking stings. “What do you mean we aren’t friends? We grew up together, how the hell are we not friends?”
“Are you stupid?”
“Am I stupid?” he asks, offended and frustrated. He was starting to lose his patience. “No. I’m not. I still consider you as my friend. We grew up together, went to the same schools, hung out every damn day, how is none of that relevant?”
“We haven’t spoken in months.”
“So what?” he asks, feeling as though your friendship suddenly means less than nothing to you, somehow.
“I told you that night that I wasn’t going to be your friend anymore.”
He freezes. He knows. He also knows you don’t just say shit without it meaning anything. He knows you aren’t friends anymore, but he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want you to be nothing to each other. He thought that if, maybe, he admitted he still sees you as his friend, you would admit the same. But you don’t. And now he feels that same empty feeling. “So…you’re just fine with letting us go without a second thought?”
You look at him, “Do you not remember anything from that night? Of course if fucking hurt; I was in love with you.”
“So it does matter.”
You sigh, “It doesn’t matter anymore; that was a long time ago.” you say as you take another sip.
He looks at you for a moment, feeling like his heart has become a punching bag and you were just taking any hit you could. Was this really the same person he grew up with? That he… “How could it not matter anymore? We used to mean the world to each other…how can that just…be…over?”
You look at him, “Because I had to get over you.”
“It’s not that easy. I spent everyday thinking about you. Everyday.”
“Why?”
“Because I love you!” He thought your question was so redundant, he honestly didn’t even realize what he said at first. 
“But…” you sit there, stunned. He finally said what you wanted him to say for so long, even if it was with a frustrated tone, still…it counted. “What about Yujin?”
“She…she doesn’t matter. You do. She always suspected I was in love with you-”
“Well, this is news to me.”
He deadpans. “Are you being fucking serious? I get I never said it before, but…” he pauses; he sees what you mean. “Okay…but…you never once thought it was possible that I love you?”
“No. Because that night when I told you that I was in love with you, you just kept saying I was your best friend. You’re so full of it.”
“I’m not full of it! I just…for fucks sake, I just didn’t know. I thought…I don’t know, I thought maybe for you it was just passing, or something, I don’t know what I thought I just…I don’t know.”
“Right. So as I stood there, crying my eyes out as I told you how much I loved you, you thought it was one sided.” you say as you roll your eyes.
“I…” he feels like he did that night, like he can’t think. “I just didn’t know, maybe something was holding me back, I don’t know.”
“I know why.”
He looks at you, relieved, thankful that you understand what he means. “You do?”
“Of course you didn’t want to admit to that. How embarrassing for you to have a crush on one of the school’s biggest sluts.”
He frowns. “That’s not what I mean. You honestly think it’s embarrassing for me to like you?”
“Exactly. And you knew that. I don’t blame you, no guy wants their girlfriend to be a whore.” You take another sip of your drink and you look at him. “Look, I’m not mad. I got over it and I honestly don’t care anymore. I know what I am and I know that until we graduate, that’s all I’ll probably be. But it doesn’t matter. Yujin breaking up with you not too long ago was dumb, you’re a really great guy, but you’ll find someone else.” You take another sip,  “I should probably head back in and find Sungchan.”
He felt anger wash over him. Not because you don’t believe him about being in love with you. Not because you were going to Sungchan. But because of the fact that you believe the things you say about yourself. You’re so special, so goddamn special, and Sunghoon is so scared as he realizes he may be too late.
“And what if I don’t want to find someone else? What if I don’t want anyone else but you?”
You look at him for a moment. “Do you remember how you would talk about Yujin with me? You may not remember everything you said, but I remember it all and I remember how you looked as you said it. You talked about her like she was the most special and most beautiful girl in the world. You had this smile that you only had with her…” you pause for a moment, “You may say you have feelings for me…but they're not like the ones you had for her, and that’s okay. I don’t want you to feel bad because you deserve to be happy, but you also deserve to find another girl that makes you talk and feel that same way…and I know that’s not me.”
You’re so wrong. You’re so fucking wrong and it was pissing him off. He wishes he just figured this out earlier. He wishes that he asked you out instead. He wishes that he told you he loves you that night. He wishes he kissed you. He wishes he held you and didn’t let go. He swallows, “You remember everything I said?” he asks, slightly surprised to hear that. Honestly, he doesn’t even remember what he said. Not anymore.
“Of course I do…I wanted nothing more than for it to be me.” you say quietly as you take a sip and sigh. “But like I said, water under the bridge.”
He feels tears begin to form. “Why did we have to grow apart? Why didn’t you just talk to me? Just one damn word. Something. I didn’t want to lose you.”
“I can’t be your friend.”
“Why not?”
You look at him for a long moment, just staying quiet. “...I’m only going to say this once…but if I stayed your friend, I would just keep hurting myself…I would still love you.”
He stays quiet for a while. Even the loud music and chatter from the people inside seemed to drown out as he looked at you; you’re all that matters; you’re all that deserves his attention. “...did it hurt when we would talk everyday?”
You sigh softly and shake your head. “Not until you started dating Yujin. Before that, everything was fine. But once she happened…it hurt like hell.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I told you. I couldn’t do that to you, you were happy.”
“I would have wanted to know. I would have wanted to be there for you…”
You laugh a little, “No, that’s weird.” You shake your head and still laugh a little, “It’s fine, I’m over it.” 
“It’s not weird. It’s not okay for you to act like everything is fine.” he says, softly.
“Why are you trying to rehash this? There’s no point. Or do you like to hear about how I used to love you and it gives you some sort of ego boost or something?” you ask, not wanting to dive back into this…not again. He shakes his head, but he sighs. What is the point? You aren’t believing him and you’ve said it yourself…you’re over him. You stand up and his eyes follow you, “I’m gonna go find Sungchan. Later.” you say, not really meaning the ‘later’ part, but nonetheless, you walk away and all he can do is watch you leave…again.
He heads back into the party, wanting to find solace in getting batshit drunk or something, but he continues to torture himself by watching you dance with Sungchan. His eyes only focus on you, sure, he’s jealous and pissed off that you’re with Sungchan, but he only sees you. Sees how you move and he finds himself wishing you were dancing with him. 
Sungchan pulls you closer, just whispering sweet nothings in your ear and you feel his hands grab your ass. You giggle a little and try to enjoy your time with him as he starts kissing your neck. You laugh softly as you dance with him and, unfortunately for Sunghoon, he’s bearing witness to it all. His hand practically crushes his red solo cup as fury ignites within him when he watches what Sungchan is doing. That should be him. Not that he would be so…vulgar with his actions, but it should still be him instead. He sees Sungchan whisper something to you as he takes your hand and starts taking you upstairs. 
As he watched the two of you making your way upstairs, his whole body shook and trembled in rage. Every step that the two of you took together enraged him. He hated the way you casually held his hand and how he casually walked you up the stairs. He hated how he acted as if he had every right to touch you like that. He hated the fact that you were both so comfortable with one another at this point. He hated the fact that he was leading you away to his room…
You were so focused on following Sungchan, you were surprised to feel a tug on your other hand once you reached the top of the stairs. Both Sungchan and you stop and you turn to see Sunghoon holding your other hand. 
Sunghoon felt at ease, like he was grounded when he felt your hand in his. This made him more confident as he tugged you towards him, wanting you away from Sungchan. This pisses Sungchan off and he scoffs as he looks at Sunghoon. 
“The hell?” Sungchan says, not in the mood for any games. He tugs the hand he was holding, pulling you back towards him, but you find yourself only focused on Sunghoon as your heart starts to beat faster.
Sunghoon pulls you back towards him, his grip on your hand tightening. “Back off.” he says as he glares at Sungchan. 
“You back off.” Sungchan says as he tugs you back towards him.
Sunghoon realized that you were just being tugged around, so he stopped, but he kept holding your hand. “Let go of her.”
“You let go of her.” He looks at you, “Who the hell is this guy?” Sungchan asks, annoyed.
“Someone who actually loves her instead of using her.”
You look at Sunghoon, surprised to hear him say that. Sure, he said he loved you earlier…but this time when he said it, he said it like it was what he meant to say; what he wanted to say.
Sungchan laughs. “You love her?”
Sunghoon glares at him. “Yes. I love her. Now back off.”
Sungchan scoffs and puts his arm around you. “Tell you what, bud, you can have her when I’m done.” Sungchan winks as he pulls you towards him.
Sunghoon feels enraged. This asshole was acting so entitled, acting like he won this argument when Sunghoon knew damn well he wasn’t giving up. The fact that he had the nerve to call him “bud” too made Sunghoon want to throw him down the flight of fucking stairs. How he treated you was disgusting, talking about you like that in front of you. Sunghoon tugged you towards him one last time and Sungchan rolled his eyes. 
“Whatever.” Sungchan looks at you, “You know where my room is.” he says as he winks at you before walking away.
Sunghoon grimaces as Sungchan leaves, but feels better once he’s gone. The whole time, you were just looking at Sunghoon and you feel as though your heart is beating out of your chest as he holds your hand. After what he said. After all of this. He meets your gaze and he looks at you in a much more gentle manner. 
“You deserve so much more…” he whispers, his breath lightly brushing along your face since you’re so close together. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry-”
“Stop.”
“No.” he says as he lets go of your hand and uses it instead to gently cup your face. “I wasn’t lying. You are all I’ve thought about for these past few months and you’re all I can ever think about. I’ve missed you every single damn second of the day and I’m sorry I was too scared to say it all before. I love you. And all this time, I’ve just thought about what you mean to me and the answer is everything; you mean everything to me. ...that seems like such a vague thing to say now that I say it out loud.” he chuckles softly, “But everything means nothing if you’re not with me. Eating, sleeping, breathing, blinking, are all pointless if I can’t spend one goddamn second with you. I’m not embarrassed of you and I only realized that night when you left that I’ve always been in love with you. Always. What I felt with Yujin is all meaningless when I compare it to how I feel about you. I love you. It was never her. Not for even a millisecond. You asked me if I would put myself through pain just to see her happy and I told you yes. I lied. I thought that was what I would do, but I realized I actually did that with you. I let you walk away because that’s what you wanted. I didn’t want that, god-” he takes a sharp inhale as he rests his forehead on yours, “It’s always been you…and I’m so sorry I never said it until now. I’m so sorry I put you through all of that shit. I’m so sorry, but please…” he whispers as he looks into your eyes, all of his focus only on you. “I love you.”
You feel your breath hitch slightly and you feel so tempted just to kiss him, but you hold yourself back. You smile a little bit and pull away slightly, feeling relieved. “...I need to smoke. You want one?” you ask as you take his hand, going into an empty bedroom. 
He closes the door behind the two of you as you walk over and sit on the bed, opening the window beside it. He sits beside you as you take out your pack and he smiles a bit. “Yeah, I do.” he says as you hand him one. He watches as you light yours and then you light his for him. You both sit silently for a moment as you smoke, it being a comfortable silence until he speaks. “Thank you.” he says, mainly for lighting his cigarette, but he does want it to apply to you not leaving him again.
“I forgive you.” you say after a moment.
“You do?” he asks as he takes a drag and looks at you.
“Yeah.” you say as you take another drag yourself. “But you’ve got to get better at saying how you feel.” you tease.
He scoffs playfully and nudges your arm. “Says you.” he mumbles as he continues to smoke.
You laugh softly and shrug. “We’ll work on it.” you say before exhaling your smoke and he nods his head a bit as you both look out of the window for a moment. You glance at him and inhale from your cigarette before gently pulling him towards you. He turns his head to look at you and you kiss him gently, shotgunning the smoke slowly into his mouth.
His eyes widen a bit as his heart beats rapidly. He closes his eyes as he inhales, letting the smoke slowly fill his lungs while he leans forward to kiss you back, indulging in the feeling of your lips on his even if it wasn’t an actual kiss. After blowing out the smoke, you break the kiss and watch as he exhales the smoke. He does it slowly, feeling as though his lips are tingling, begging to meet yours again. He smirks a bit after he exhales all of the smoke and looks at you. “Damn…that was good.” he whispers as he blushes a bit.
You grin, taking another drag, “I’ve missed you.”
He takes a drag as well as smiles softly. “I’ve missed you, too.” It goes quiet, but this time, a comfortable silence as you two smoke. He blows some smoke out of the window and looks back at you. “Do you think…we could give this another shot?”
You follow suit and blow some smoke out of the window before looking at him. “Our friendship or…something more this time?”
“Something more. Both, hopefully.” he smirks a bit as he says this, taking another drag.
You smirk a little back and chuckle softly, “I really want that.”
“So do I.” he whispers as his eyes lock onto yours. He smiles softly, “We’re going to be official.”
He reaches for your hand and carefully interlaces his fingers with yours. You take another drag as you smile shyly. “Good…” you say, softly.
Your fingers seem to fit with his perfectly; everything about you is perfect and it was things like this that make him realize it all the more. You hold hands as you smoke silently, both feeling a fluttering excitement in your stomachs as your relationship dynamic shifts to one that you both have been longing for before you even realized it yourselves. He glances at you as he exhales some smoke.
“Good? Wow…I was expecting some more passion out of that.” he teases, gently squeezing your hand.
You laugh before finishing your cigarette and putting it out. You turn your body a bit to face him, “What about…fucking incredible?”
He laughs loudly at your new choice of phrasing. He calms down after a moment, “That’s more like it.” he says with a grin before smoking his cigarette again. His gaze lingers on you as he watches you smile at his reaction. Stunning. He leans in, letting go of your hand, placing his left hand beside you on the bed as his lips meet yours, kissing you. 
You don’t waste a single second, kissing him back immediately as your hand makes its way to the back of his head, your fingers threading with his hair as you push yourself slightly forward, pressing your lips against his more. He inhales sharply as he moves his left arm around your waist, pulling you closer, desperately. He puts out his cigarette and discards it, using his other arm to wrap around you as well as he pulls you onto his lap. You part your legs, straddling his lap as you grin a bit into the kiss, both of your hands using their fingers to gently tug on the ends of his soft hair. You feel yourself fill with excitement, the fact that this is really happening after every inch of your body has desired this exact moment makes you feel restless. 
Sunghoon runs his hands up and down your thighs, squeezing them gently, before moving them up to your hips, and then your waist. His hands suddenly felt so big against your skin, his fingers sending shivers throughout your whole body anywhere they touch. He opens his mouth slightly more and you take this as a sign to slip your tongue into it. He grins, this time, and he pulls you closer to him by gripping your waist; your bodies now pressed tightly against each other. He moves his hands to cup your face and you move yours to rest against his chest, your fingers tightly gripping his shirt in an attempt to somehow kiss him deeper. His tongue glides across yours as he kisses you with increasing desperation. The need for you grows every second that passes, he has to kiss every inch of you, he has to make you his, he has to make you feel loved; the only thoughts devouring his mind at this very moment consisted of nothing but you and his need to ensure you only ever want him. 
The kiss becomes sloppy, both of your lips becoming covered in one another, and you feel yourself craving more. So much more. You bite his bottom lip a little, testing to see if this will make him decide to take initiative, resulting in him gasping softly and releasing a low moan. He liked it. He liked it a lot. He moves his hands back to your waist, pushing you down against his lap and his jaw loosens a bit as he loses his breath, feeling you finally press against his erection. You moan softly, enjoying the feeling of some sort of contact where you desperately needed it the most and it felt so good knowing he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. He couldn’t take it anymore, he had to have you. 
One of his hands grips your thigh and his other arm goes back to wrapping around your waist as he picks you up a bit and lays you back against the bed, not once breaking the kiss; at this point, kissing you has become his oxygen supply. Feeling your hands on him is the only thing keeping him alive. His lips part from yours only to kiss along your jaw, just below your ear, and down to your neck. You gasp softly and your eyelids flutter closed as you relish in the feeling of his soft lips kissing your skin. He takes one of his hands and uses it to move some of your hair out of the way, placing it on the back of your head, pulling your hair softly to move your head back so he has more room to work with on your neck. You let out a soft moan, feeling him leave open mouthed kisses on every single inch of your skin, him making sure he doesn’t miss a single spot. 
He opens his eyes a bit and looks at you, to see how he’s making you feel. He watches as your lips part slightly as you take in small gasps of air, as if he leaves you utterly breathless; you’ve never looked more beautiful. He watches to see what spot of your neck when he kisses it that you seem to like the most. Once he gets to a certain spot and watches you bite your bottom lip a bit, he smirks slightly against your skin and sucks gently on the area. His tongue laps the spot a bit as he sucks and nibbles on it; this was his spot now. You moan softly and you feel your breath slightly catch in your throat as he leaves a hickey. He leaves a few soft pecks on the spot a little after he’s left his mark and he smiles a bit to himself. 
You feel the warmth of his body pull away from yours and your eyes open as you look at him. The moon shined a bit through the window, the light falling beautifully on him as he looked at you with a slightly flushed face. He looked back at you, seeing you laying on this bed, all for him, he felt like he was going crazy. He sits on his knees between your legs as his hands run along your thighs; he just keeps looking at you, admiring all of you. You lay there, looking at him, feeling your body become hot as he looks at you through hooded eyes, as if you leave him in a trance. Your breathing picks up in speed as he runs his hands painfully slow along your thighs and as much as you want to pull him back towards you, you feel as though you’re frozen. 
He takes a slow, deep breath, as his left hand travels up to gently take your right hand. He holds it up softly, separating your fingers with his as he loosely holds your hand, his gaze now focusing on your hands. He raises your hand up and leans in, raising it to his mouth. He softly plants his lips on your fingertips, kissing them softly, up to your knuckles, trailing his lips to the back of your hand, then gently turning it to kiss along the palm of your hand. He closes his eyes as he kisses down your arm--slowly--and gently lays your arm back at your side as he kisses up to your shoulder. His hands move to the hem of your short dress, slowly sliding it up, you raising your hips to help him, and he stops, leaving it bunched around your waist as he goes back to kissing along your shoulder. He gently pushes the strap of your dress down your shoulder as he focuses on kissing your body, moving along your collarbone. He breathes deeply, pushing the other strap out of the way as he leaves open mouthed kisses on your left shoulder, down your arm, his hands gently holding it up as he kisses up to your wrist. You watch him, feeling as if your body is constantly shivering, still dressed (albeit, your dress is pushed up), yet feeling completely exposed. His hand envelopes over your left hand as he kisses your palm like he cherishes your entire being, the way he looks is as if he’s wanted to do this his whole life. 
He kisses your fingers, knuckles, and fingertips, opening his eyes slowly as he lets go of your arm gently. He moves his hands back to your waist, pulling your dress up more and you sit up, realizing your body is shaking, and he kisses your forehead before pulling your dress off carefully, like he’s afraid if he does it too fast, you’ll break. He lets the dress fall to the ground, the fabric hitting the hard wood floor just as softly as he lets it go. It’s as if the room is silent, no muffled music from downstairs, no rolling of tires from the occasional cars passing on the streets, no soft wind hitting the curtains, nothing except the quiet breaths escaping from his and your lips. He feels his erection become even more painfully hard as he looks at you, and he swallows, honestly trying not to let out a moan just at the sight of you. His breath stifles a little as he places his hand on the small of your back, steadying you as he leans back in, kissing the top of your chest. He feels himself growing more desperate, desperate to feel every inch of your skin on his lips, on his fingertips. 
He breathes in sharply as he presses his face more into your chest, his lips sloppily kissing along your chest as his need for you grows. His tongue trails along your skin and he shudders, his hands becoming shaky as he holds your waist, all his focus practically on making out with your chest. A low moan elicits from him and from the way he was kissing your chest with such desperation made you moan softly in response, one of your bra straps falling a little off your shoulder from his movements. It’s as if he senses it and just decides to unclasp your bra, still trying to let it slide off of you slowly and hold himself back, but once he sees you take it off, your bare chest exposed, he feels himself get so close to cumming in his pants. He gently lays you back on the bed, wasting no time, however, to wrap his lips around one of your nipples. Your breath hitches and you moan as he releases his desperation. Kissing, sucking, and fondling your breasts, small whimpers coming from him as he feels elated to finally be doing this. Spit covers your chest almost instantly as he licks and sucks, kneading your breasts, moaning as the soft flesh squeezes and molds beneath his hands. And it’s only until he feels his breathing becoming quick, his dick aching in his pants, is when he stops. He pulls away slightly, his hair slightly covering his eyes as he stares at them, his trembling fingers squeezing and spreading his spit along them, his thumbs pressing and circling your nipples, and you feel as if ripples just went throughout your entire body.
You gently push his hair away from his face and he goes back to kissing along your stomach, down to your panties. You can feel momentarily the thin layer of sweat covering his forehead when you push his hair away, running your fingers through his locks and he whines softly against your skin, his hands gripping your sides and finally moving to the edge of your panties. You wait in anticipation, expecting him to take them off, so you raise your hips slightly, but he pulls away. You pout–only slightly–as you look at him with a confused expression. He smiles sweetly, as if he’s not the one that caused you to quite literally soak through your panties. He’s noticed, god, he’s noticed, but it takes everything in him not to behave like some animal. So, with that, he moves his hands down to your feet, slowly taking off your shoes for you before setting them on the ground. He moves back a little, leaning down to kiss along your leg, stopping at your knee, before moving to do the same thing to the other leg, but this time, he kisses up your thigh, leaving open mouthed kisses on the inner part of your thigh, gently nipping at your skin, and up to your hip. He gazes at you through his eyelashes as he moves to kiss along the other thigh, closing his eyes as he moans deeply against your skin, his tongue running along your skin.
He takes in a shaky, deep breath, and you feel your whole body become stiff once you feel his warm breath scatter so deliciously on your core. He gently places his hand over your sopping panties and your breath hitches, your whole body feeling grateful for some sort of contact. His brows furrowed as he slowly rubs his middle finger along your clothed slit, a low groan escaping his lips as he feels even more of your wetness seep through the fabric as he pushes into it. His mind feels hazy; he has to taste you. He takes his hand away, licking his middle finger and he feels as if his whole body exploded. He moans quietly to himself, before gripping your thighs and sticking his tongue out, licking a slow, long stripe between your clothed folds to your clit. Your eyes roll back as you gasp and moan. His fingers dig into the skin of your thighs as he feels himself lose all sense of sanity. He wanted nothing more than to take his time, but fuck, he can’t do it anymore. 
His lips instantly latch around your clothed clit, sucking and lapping his tongue as he starts to subconsciously rut his hips against the mattress. His saliva soaks your panties entirely as he presses his tongue more firmly, causing you to moan louder, gasping, as your hand makes its way to his hair, your fingers tangling in it. He moans and pulls away only a little before diving back in, pushing your panties to the side with his face as he makes out between your folds. His jaw is working overtime, his tongue lapping and picking up as much of you as you can give, His nose bumps against your clit as he loses himself in your taste, eating you out like a madman. He groans and moans into you, his hip movements stuttering as he licks all the way back up to your clit, moving his right hand off of your thigh before pushing his middle and ring finger into you, making sure to rub them between your folds before he does. He sucks and licks your clit, moaning and whimpering as he pushes his fingers in and out of you, not stopping until his knuckles prevent him. 
You moan his name, gripping his hair, pushing his face against your clit more as your legs shake and you cum, moaning his name. He whimpers and the way you taste sends him over the edge as he feels himself cum in his pants, his jaw falling slack a bit, and he pulls his fingers out, desperate to lick them clean. You let go of his hair, trying to catch your breath and he sits up, his face slick and covered in you, and he tugs your panties off. You look at him, watching as he undresses himself and you feel your body become light as he reveals more and more of himself to you. His bare chest, his abs, god, his biceps, you were about ready to start touching yourself at the sight, desperate for him, but you managed to stay put. 
He feels his ego boost a little bit, watching how you look at him, examining his body as if he is some work of art. He’s going to give you everything he knows you deserve and that thought alone makes him smirk. You notice as he takes off his underwear the wet patch from his prior release, making you grin a bit. He finally lets his cock out, it still being painfully hard despite him having cummed already, and you gaze at it. You feel yourself clench around nothing, wanting him so desperately to fill you up and he sees it. He smiles innocently, as if you both aren’t completely naked and horny before he grabs a cigarette and lights it. He takes a drag as he spreads the precum spilling from his tip all along his length and you watch his every movement, honestly feeling your mouth water at the sight. You sit up and he motions his head to the window as the cigarette sits between his lips. 
You turn and face the window, propping your forearms against the windowsill as you look outside, the cool breeze honestly feeling nice against your flushed, hot skin. You feel his presence shift behind you as he takes another drag. He sighs softly, looking at yourself propped like this, he places his free hand on your hip, lining himself up with you. He moves that hand and gently brushes your hair softly to the side, exposing your back entirely, and you turn your head a bit to look back at him. He exhales some smoke and meets your gaze, gently brushing his fingers along your cheek. 
“Relax…” he says before leaning to whisper in your ear, “and don’t be afraid to let the neighborhood know my name.” he says before kissing your cheek. 
You feel your body shudder at his words and he holds the cigarette between his lips as he uses one hand to hold your hip, the other gripping his cock before he slides it up and down, teasingly, between your folds. You gasp softly and he smirks, pushing his tip against your clit and he hisses a little, more precum leaking from his tip. He guides his cock into you, needing to quickly grab his cigarette from his mouth due to his jaw falling slack as he bottoms out into you. Your fingers grip the edge of the windowsill, your jaw dropping as you feel him finally giving you what you want. You moan and become breathless. He takes another drag from his cigarette before moving his hand from your hip to your shoulder as he pulls his hips away and then thrusts himself back into you entirely.
He filled you up perfectly, and he was damn ready to cum just from the way it felt like you perfectly fit around him. So warm and so fucking wet. He thrusts in and out of you a few times, groaning as you moan, sounds of you coating his cock more and more each time he goes in and out of you. He takes a shaky inhale from his cigarette, his eyes rolling back a bit as he thrusts a bit faster, before taking the cigarette out of his mouth, gripping the back of your head, a handful of your hair between his fingers, as he pulls you up and turns your head towards him. You moan and whine looking at him as he kisses you, shotgunning you this time as he keeps a steady pace of thrusting into you. You felt like you were going to choke, but you inhale what he exhales and as he pulls away, you turn back and lean your forearms against the windowsill as you blow out the smoke, gasping afterwards and moaning his name.
“Good girl,” he groans and puts the cigarette out, putting both of his hands on your hips, thrusting faster. “Such a good girl.” 
You moan at his praise and breathe quickly as all you can do is let out strings of long moans as you feel his cock press into you over and over, him somehow hitting every area that makes your knees weak and mind hazy. His fingers dig into your skin as his hips rapidly pound and slap against your ass, the sound of skin slapping becoming louder and louder. You moan his name loudly, and as a reward, he pushes further, you feeling his tip brush against your cervix and you gasp, moaning his name lewdly. He grunts, the way you just moaned his name almost made him cum automatically. 
“Louder, sweetheart, come on.”
You gasp for air as he fucks you so goddamn good, and you try to arch your lower back a bit so he can go deeper. You moan his name as many times as he wants, whatever it takes for him to rut in and out of you faster, to which he obliged. His breathing becomes heavy and your legs shake as you throw your head back a bit, your jaw dropping as you let out a long moan, cum spreading all over his cock. He grunts and whimpers, wrapping his arms around your waist as his brows knit together, him leaning down and kissing your shoulder as he pumps you full of cum, a low moan coming from him and onto your shoulder. He moans your name softly as he lets out a few more shallow thrusts, making sure he gives you every last drop. You feel yourself shiver as the warm liquid pushes into you and you whine a little. 
After a moment of him holding you close and staying inside of you, he kisses your shoulder softly again before pulling out and pulling away. He lays back onto the bed and you shudder as you feel his and your cum spilling out of you and trailing slowly down your inner thigh. He opens his arms a bit and you go to him, letting out a sigh as you rest your head on his chest and feeling content when his arms wrap around you. His hand slowly moves up and down your back before he kisses the top of your head. It’s silent for a while as you both lay there.
“So…we’re a thing now?” you ask, partly joking, but part of you was seriously asking.
He looks down at you and scoffs playfully. “After all of this, you still don’t get it?” he chuckles softly. “I want nobody but you.”
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zylev-blog · 11 months ago
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Danny was pissed. He was chilling in the Speedforce, waiting on his dad—the Flash—to show up when he felt something shift around him. He exited the speedforce to find that the timeline had changed again, and he had been written out of the timeline. He technically was a time anomaly now, and didn’t exist. So he talked to Clockwork, a ghost he’d gotten to know extremely well after Danny’s creation.
Danny was a clone of the Flash and Green Lantern(Hal Jordan) as part of an experiment that Lex Luthor had taken prior to cloning Superboy. Lex had wanted to know if the power ring was able to transmit anything genetically (it couldn’t. It was a wearable weapon, not a genetic thing.) but Danny had inherited Flash’s superspeed, so he wasn’t a complete loss. Danny wasn’t sure if he looked more like either man, considering they both wore masks. He had brown hair and green eyes. Beyond that, he tanned well, was tall for his age, and packed on muscle far easier than the Flash did. He hadn’t ever seen either man out of the costume.
After a talk with Clockwork, he decided he was just going to force his way back into his Dad’s life. Both of them, if possible. He arrived years before his creation by mistake, right near the start of the Justice League. By his estimates, the team had only been formed for a year before he’d arrived. It was strange; he both didn’t exist and was from the future. He guessed that it was around nine years before his birth, and since he was technically six months old, he was 9 years in the past. Thinking about this was going to give him a headache.
The Justice League was severely mistrustful of each other. They didn’t go out of their way for teamups, didn’t have weekly meetings, and almost pretended if the other members didn’t exist. The most recluse of them was Batman, of course. If any hero set foot in Gotham, they were booted out before they even got to downtown. Danny highly suspected Batman had the entire city on camera. The situation was weirding him out more than before. What had happened to the team?! He was used to everyone being one big family, and even the sidekicks having their own teams… speaking of sidekicks, why was Robin so small?! Wait a minute, that wasn’t the third Robin that he was used to, that was the first Robin! Baby Nightwing!
Thankfully for him, he still had his costume on this entire time as he zipped around the country, spying on the younger members of the Justice League. It was surreal watching everyone try to capture him, but he wasn’t going to be caught that easily!
Eventually his presence forced the Justice League into another teamup. Batman laid the trap out, and Flash lured him into it. The plan was so beautiful that he didn’t even realize it was a trap until he was caught in it. Green Lantern took off Danny’s mask, and for the first time, he looked at his fathers without a mask. They didn’t make the connection to him right away. It wasn’t until Wonder Woman’s lasso made its way around his wrist that the truth finally came out.
“Who are you?” Wonder Woman asked.
“Oof , hard question—ow ow oww—I’m being honest!” He struggled against the lasso as it started to burn him. “My designation was Dn-y, I go by Danny, though. I’m a clone.”
“Of who?” Batman demanded.
“Flash and Green Lantern.” The lasso was glowing brightly, indicating that he was telling the truth.
“How did you escape?” Flash asked.
He didn’t answer right away. He was trying to think about how to phrase the whole time traveling—timeline erasure thing when the lasso started to burn him again. “Ow ow! Sorry, I’m thinking! Ow! Turn down the settings on that thing, holy shit—okay, okay.” He winced, his words coming out in one breath as he quickly talked, “What do you know about time travel?”
Diana’s eyebrows were rising. “How are you able to resist the lasso for so long?”
“I’m not really resisting it.” He answered, noting the obvious deflect of his last question, “I just-oww—okay! My mind moves too fast for me to put into words sometimes and it makes me stop to think about it, but like, I’m not good at controlling the speed in which I speak all the time—owww make this thing stop burning me! I’m speaking honestly!”
Diana revoked the lasso, and he rubbed his wrist where his costume was starting to singe. He was still trapped in an anti-speedster prison, so it wasn’t exactly like he was going anywhere anyway.
“Why were you asking about time travel?” Batman asked.
“Based on the crickets chirping I heard earlier, that leads me to believe you guys haven’t had any experience in it yet.” He leaned against the wall of the prison, wincing as it shocked him with electricity. “Seriously? How paranoid are you, Batman?” He rubbed his shoulder. “Honestly, I don’t know what I was expecting with you people, but I feel so attacked right now.”
“So we have experience with it in the future?” Superman piped up.
“Yeah?” His tone of voice equated to a ‘duh’ tone. “Why would I ask what you knew if I wasn’t from the future?”
“How far in the future are you from?” Green Lantern asked.
“Nine years, maybe close to ten? Timelines are weird. I’m technically six months old, but at the same time I’m sixteen. Cloning is odd, but I was like, the first clone ever, so I don’t really have a basis for this sort of thing, if you catch my drift.” He shrugged. He seemed like he talked a lot more than the heroes did, but he didn’t know if that was because he was a chatterbox, or because they weren’t comfortable in each other’s presence. Either way, the silence was odd to him.
“How did you end up here?” Batman asked.
“Honestly? I don’t fully know. Don’t give me that look, Diana! I’m telling the truth.” He added quickly as Diana fingered her lasso again. “All I know is one minute, I’m chilling in the Speedforce, and the next, the timeline is changed and I’m nine years too early for my birth. You’d think the timeline would at least have the decency to spit me out in my own year, but nooo, it wanted to—“
“What’s the Speedforce?” Superman interrupted.
He tilted his head at Superman’s question, then turned to the Flash. “How long have you had your powers?”
Flash shifted uncomfortably. “Two years.”
“Oh boy.” Danny’s green eyes widened. “You don’t know anything about them, do you?”
“I do know things!” Flash deflected, “My suit doesn’t catch on fire anymore! I can run up to Mach 2! I can get from either end of the country in thirty minutes!”
He groaned loudly. “Oh no. Oh no.” He chewed on his thumb, trying to recall everything he’d learned about his powers from his Flash. While he hadn’t learned his or Green Lantern’s identity yet, he knew almost everything about their hero personas and a lot of personal information. They were just worried of the Cadmus connection and didn’t want their identity to fall into the wrong hands if they still could see inside of Danny’s head.
“What’s wrong?” Diana asked.
“Okay.” He ran his hands through his brown hair, making it spike up. “Hypothetically—“ he cut himself off as Batman glared at him. “Okay, totally real, but uh, Flash, let’s just say that I’m faster than you right now. A lot faster.”
“How much?” Flash took a step forward, obviously curious.
“From what we can tell, I’ve topped out at Mach nine.” He responded with a dry laugh, “But your speed was still a lot faster than mine. You’d never tell me what it was. I’m still growing though, and I’m getting faster. I’m able to beat my precious time by almost double each time we test. But my situation was complicated, and things were happening, and it was a mess.”
“Like what?” Superman asked.
“World war three. I think?” He rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture that he had picked up from Green Lantern, “Things got complicated. That’s why I was going to wait for…” his eyebrows scrunched together as the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place. “It was you!” He turned to Flash. “You!” He jabbed a finger at the speedster. “You set this up! You set ME up!”
The heroes took fighting stances, but Superman took a step forward, blocking them from Danny. “What are you talking about?”
“Okay okay.” He was trying to calm down his anger, but he had been told by Green Lantern in the past that he had inherited the man’s anger issues. “Let me start at the beginning. This is going to be a long story, you might want to take a seat.”
Nobody moved, but everyone was tense.
“Or not. Okay. So my creation starts with Lex Luthor.” He noticed Superman stiffen. “He used me as his trial, if you will. Once he got a successful attempt at cloning—me—he moved onto his real target. Cloning Superman.” Danny’s green eyes hovered onto Superman’s blue ones. “He was successful.”
“What happened?” Superman’s voice was unnaturally quiet.
“Well, at first, Conner wasn’t showing that he had all the powers of Superman. So Lex tossed him aside and tried again. The second attempt was more successful than the first. But cloning Kryptonian dna was hard, I guess.” He shrugged. “The second clone lacked basic emotions. Empathy, remorse… it made him the perfect little weapon for Lex. But eventually, the clone’s anger and Lex’s greed got to a point of no return. Lex was elected President of the United States and uh…you can probably see where this is going, right? While the fighting hadn’t like…’officially’ started,” He used his fingers to create air quotes around the word ‘officially’, “Things were getting tense. See, we couldn’t take the clone down because Lex had wrote out the Kryptonite deficiency out of his weakness. And the clone had all the strength of Superman and none of his remorse…”
Superman looked pale. “I see.”
“So Flash and I came up with a plan.” He turned back to his father, “We were going to travel into the next dimension for help. From what we could tell, that dimension was full of god-like beings, and one of them actually helped me out earlier! But for a lot of them, they ask for a price for their help. But anyway, Flash and I were going to take our case to the King and plead for help. I was waiting for Flash when the timeline reset and I found out that not only did I not exist, but I was nine years too early.”
“What are you going to do now?” Green Lantern asked.
“Dunno,” His voice dropped as the reality hit him. He wasn’t going home—his home didn’t exist anymore.
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on-the-clear-blue · 3 months ago
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Dead Man's Diner pt 6
Bruce's eye twitched as he forced the well-worn grin on his face.
It was a subtle thing, one that Tim would have thought he had imagined if he didnt know better, but he did.
Across from the both of them was Vlad Masters, he was a tall man, taller than Tim but still shorter than Bruce, all of him screamed rich villian, that is other than the way the second Bruce made a comment off hand about the Gotham Knights football team.
It was then the cruel looking man melted away, and Vlad Masters devolved into a chattering 40 something that knows far too much about the Green Bay Packers.
"Oh if I could go back in time and see that touch down again I could die a happy man" Vlad said with a wistful looking smile on his face, eyes glazed over in memories before he seemed to snap out of it and shake his head, a light dusting of pink came across his cheeks, lighting up his papery skin.
"Ah...do please forgive me...I seem to have gotten a tad bit carried away..." Tim bit back a scoff as he leaned back into his chair, they had been talking for almost a full hour and nearly all of it was Vlad ranting.
Bruce let out a small chuckle that sounded fake even to Tim, "No worry Mister Masters! Perhaps next time the Knights go against the Packers we can share a box!"
Tim knew this was to help sell the whole 'Brucie' act, but he still couldn't keep the cringe on his face, "B? Um...the Knights are a minor leauge team they...ugh forget it." Rubbing at his eyes, Tim cut off the words that Masters looked ready to say, "What was it again that you asked for a meeting Mister Masters? Something about..."
Looking down to his tablet, Tim sent a check in timer, if Vlad was to strike it would be soon "some sort of collaboration? With your subsidiary Axion Labs?"
Masters seemed a little taken back from Tim's thinly vailed bluntness but pushed onward, "Of course, my dear employees at the labs have been working on an interesting new energy source! You see it's fully green and has a positive net energy production." He paused for a moment and a sneer like condescending grin got plastered on his face, "That is Mister Wayne, meaning it produces more energy then we put in it."
Bruce's eyes crinkled as his cheesy grin could only grew more, "Thank you! I was just about to ask, my dear boy Tim here is far better at understanding all that...wiggley wobbly science things!"
(Liar) Tim thought before sending Masters a bashful smile, "I know enough that what your saying is astounding to hear...why come to Wanye Enterprises with this?"
Masters grin was predatory as he spoke smoothly "Well~ Lex and I have a...bit of a history so I couldn't possibly be able to work this with him, Queen Industries are more biotechincal in nature, while WE is far more wide spread! Not only do you have a tech division, but also medical, defense and mechanical divisions!"
Things were clicking in Tims mind, Masters wanted to use WE to distribute, make them stake their own reputation for what Masters was peddling.
Bruce's persona was slipping slightly, his blue eyes steely as he looked Masters down, "We will need a working concept before we can press onward for anything else."
Masters kept the grin on for a second longer before it slipped, "Of course, I will go above that and even send my two top scientists here to demonstrate-"
He was cut off by a shrill ringing coming from Tim's tablet, making him wince as he rushed to imput the code for the check in timer, sending the man a small smile Tim spoke, "So sorry about that, I thought I put that on silent...but do look at the time Bruce, We have a meeting with Lucius in twenty minutes, did you get those slides done?"
Sending Bruce a sideways glance, Tim watched as the man stiffened but shook his head, "I did not. I am sorry Vladdie, but we will have to cut this short, I am sure you know how many meetings it takes to run a company...but please, do meet with Maddie my receptionist to schedule those scientists of yours to come over yes?"
Tim could have sworn he saw a blood vessel pop as Masters hissed a little before he gave a terse nod, "Of course...Maddie you said? Yes...I do think I will speak to her." The man seemed to calm rapidly at the name, and seemed to almost float out of the meeting room.
---
Bruce let his persona fall the same time his head fell into his hands, the heels of his palms rubbing at his eyes.
There was silence in the meeting room, he could hear Tim's fingers pattering against the tempered glass of his tablet, and the soft chatter of the office from the outside and the ever faint sound of wind whipping around the high rise tower.
Picking his head up, he looked to Tim, doing a few hand motions, "DO. BUG. SWEEP" Getting a nod in response, Bruce went over the meeting.
Something was definitely strange about Masters, he was only 48 and yet fully gray, his skin was waxy and looked translucent, deathly pale, he had a cain but didn't have a limp.
Not to mention a seemingly tense history with Lex Luthor, to the point he would seek out WE instead of Lex for his seemingly miracle energy source and-
"Clear B, not a bug in place. "
"Hn" Bruce grunted in response, trying to get his brain back on track.
The energy source was another thing that was sticking out to Bruce, it sounded far too good to be true, it broke the laws of physics to-
"Bruce? What do you think of him? Suspect or...?" Tim spoke again, and Bruce let out a small sigh, his deductions would have to wait till later.
"I think we will need to monitor him closely, I have Drs Fentons are his lead researchers..."
---
Scrunching up his face, Danny stuffed his face into his elbow before sneezing thrice, groaning for a moment before he straightened up, rubbing at his nose, the Halfa came over to the sink in the kitchen of the Diner.
It was his second day as an over night chef and he was honestly having fun? Like cooking is so much cooler when the food wasn't actively reanimated and trying to kill him.
The diner was at a new place, now it was on the old rail ways that ran through Park Row, or how the people that lived there called it Crime Alley.
He had been nervous at first, because he had felt the familiar shiver of entering another beings haunt, but thankfully the diner was stationed just out of the haunts bounds.
Biting back a little yawn, Danny flipped a page in Lunch Ladys, only to see the recipe shift and change, going from a tuna casserole to one for a classic chili.
Blinking a few times at the book, he sighed, "Well alright then." Taking note of the ingredients, Danny drummed his fingers in the book, it was obviously more than just a simple cook book, with it, you know, actually shifting and changing each page.
Shaking his head, Danny straightened up and stopped leaning over the counter, "So...Spooktastical Chili? No that sounds dumb...Cursed Cauldron Chili? Closer..." thinking out loud, Danny set a massive pot over the stove, flipping the flame on as he work shopped cheesy names for his new dish.
---
Jason had an itch.
The kind that just wouldn't go away no matter how hard you scratched at it.
The problem he couldn't get even a second of relief since the itch was in his chest, right dab in the middle.
Rubbing at it as he groaned, Jason rolled off his bed and stood, it was late, he had finished patrol an hour ago and he just...
Felt the itch to do something, to go see something that was just right out of reach.
Sighing as he stumbled around his room, grabbing discarded jeans and an old hoodie with the arms cut off, slipping them on as he left the small bedroom of the safe house.
Stopping in the tiny kitchen, Jason did his best Bat glare (tm) at the empty refrigerator, letting out a grumble as he slammed the door closed.
"Fuckin...shit." flipping the cabinet doors open he glared at the small tub of mostly empty peanut butter and sleeve of crackers that were clearly ripped into by a rat.
"Fuckity fuck fuck..." sure there were spices, so many spices, but he wanted to eat, not cook, Alfred had spoiled that feeling into him through many years.
Slamming them closed as well, Jason growled as he stomped over to his boots, toeing them on before he stormed out of his safe house, fumbling with his keys to lock it behind him.
And with that he set out on the Alley, letting his feet carry him through the streets, he waved at some of the friendlier working girls and boys, but kept walking.
It took a moment for him to realize where he was going, to that little mom and pop diner that closed years ago, they used to give him left overs when he was still one of the dirty street rats trying to live...
"Since fucking when did the lights in that place turn on?" Stopping outside of what he had thought was a clossed down diner, Jason squinted at the banner stretched above the doorway.
"Big C's diner? No...old guys name was like Tony, so ain't their kids that wanted to take over..."
Before Jason could stop himself, his hand was already around the door handle, and he was pulling it open.
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octuscle · 5 months ago
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Distilled masculinity
Timothy was a twink. There was no other way to put it. He had a flawless soft house, a rosy, soft face, golden curls, hardly any beard growth and virtually no body hair. There were a lot of people who found him incredibly sexy the way he was. He was shagged at least once a day. But he couldn't get close to the men he actually liked, the big, hairy musclemen. He was invisible to them… Completely.
In order to be as close to his idols as possible, he had taken on a temporary job at the gym on campus. Working a bit at reception, tidying up in the evenings… But his favorite task was to collect the towels from the training area in the evening and take them to the laundry. If he was lucky, a few members of the wrestling team had wiped their sweat with them. And then their musk still hung in the cotton. Timothy couldn't get enough of sinking his face into these towels. Before he fed them into the washing machine, he had jerked off into the towels more than once. Especially when he himself had found wank stains in the towels, which unfortunately happened far too rarely for his liking.
At some point, Timothy began not to put the towels that stank the most in the laundry, but to secretly collect them in his own locker in the gym. The stench became more and more overwhelming when he opened the locker… The very idea that he could sink his nose into the dirty towels again made his puny cock hard. But he remained a twink. Nothing to change! Not even through his attempts to work out in the gym himself. Preferably before or after the official opening hours. When other musclemen trained with him, he felt uncomfortable on the one hand because he was such a beanpole. And on the other hand, he had a hard-on that couldn't be hidden. No, if the members of the wrestling team or the football team were anywhere near him, he couldn't train…
Timothy's major was chemistry. If his dream of finally getting close to the big guys wasn't going to come true, he at least wanted to become a successful chemist. His dream was to isolate substances that could turn people like him into people like his idols. But that would remain as much a dream as ever being shagged by the quarterback or the captain of the wrestling team.
After a sleepless night in which he had jerked off more than once, Timothy had an idea. It seemed crazy to him. But he had to try it. He wanted to distill the sweat, the cum, the musk from his towel collection. He wanted a concentrate that he could rub under his armpits. If he didn't look like one of the mountains of muscle, he at least wanted to smell like one… And as the sun slowly rose, he also had an idea of how he could do this… That evening, when he was finally alone again in the gym, he wanted to get straight down to business.
The experimental setup was not easy. Timothy had made something like a funnel out of old plastic boxes in the gym's storeroom and filled it with distilled water. Over and over again. Until it slowly began to drip from the bottom of his funnel. Water that had run through the towels and picked up the delicious scents of dozens of jocks on its way. It was long after midnight when he had collected about a gallon of liquid. She smelled like the towels had smelled. Timothy stuffed them into the washing machine. His boss had long wondered where all the towels disappeared to. Now the stock would be replenished. Timothy took the canister of flavored water and went home. now he wanted to distill the scent. He had bought a still for amateur distillers. But he didn't want to make schnapps. He had other things in mind. Unfortunately, his plan didn't work out. Just as the first oily drops were dripping into his Erlenmeyer flask, there was a bang! And the whole still blew up. Shit, it was 04:00 in the morning. He heard neighbors yelling. Timothy hurriedly grabbed a rag and wiped up the mess on his kitchen floor. And he got a boner. Bigger and harder than ever before. The rag stank! Stank more than any changing room. Every football jersey. Than anything he'd ever smelled. It didn't smell beastly. It smelled like a beast! But Timothy stank too. When the apparatus had exploded, there had been plenty of splashes of the original liquid and the distillate. Timothy went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. His T-shirt was stained. He took it off. And absent-mindedly, he took the cloth he had just used to wipe the floor and rubbed his upper body with it. The smell! He rubbed his face. Damn it! That overwhelming smell! He took the cloth and rubbed his upper body as if it were a washcloth.
Tim grunted. Yeah, the washcloth wasn’t exactly clean. But hell, it was early in the morning, and he was about to hit the gym anyway. Why did he even bother washing up before? Washing was for wimps. Yeah, he was everything but a wimp. He started posing. He liked what he saw. He was in good shape. When the bulking phase ended and he prepped for the next competitions, he'd have to shave his chest hair again. He hated that. But shit, he was too dumb for any other job. Or for college or some crap. And he didn’t want a football career either. Coach kicked him off the team after he banged the quarterback. Hehehe, it was worth it. But now he wasn't gonna crawl back to the team. Tim made his pecs dance. 5:30 AM. In an hour and a half, he’d have to open the gym. Plenty of time to chug a gallon of protein shake and maybe do a little leg workout. He'd hit chest again tonight. Maybe he’d even let the wrestling team captain give him a hand with it.
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13uswntimagines · 5 months ago
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The Royal Playbook (Alessia X Leah X Royal!R)
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Summary: It wasn't often that you used your name or your titles, but to see your girlfriends, you would do just about anything. Even if it means going head-to-head with your new security. 
Warnings: Slightly suggestive, but otherwise nothing. It's a fluff piece.
Your life was complicated. Well… that may have been putting it lightly. 
Everything in your life had been planned for you since well before you were born. You had a tutor, an etiquette instructor, and an equestrian coach from the moment you came screaming into the world. Along with a security detail and a personal team of butlers to help you navigate life. 
It was simple, you would be academically trained, coached in diplomacy (and swordsmanship as was customary on Braavos), and exposed to different cultures so that you could continue to lead your country like your father and his mother before him. You would marry a foreign diplomat, and make political bonds that would strengthen your little island nation’s place in Europe. 
Falling in love had never been a part of that plan. 
Neither had your absolute obsession with football. Specifically, your obsession with English football. 
But your parents had taken it in stride and were far more accepting than you had any right to believe they would be. They were supportive even after they found out you preferred the fairer sex, and they absolutely adored the women who had stolen your heart.
You happened to adore them too. 
Well, something stronger than adore. 
You would do anything for them. 
They made you willing to break all of the carefully constructed rules you had grown up with. They made you forget the weight of responsibility that had been balanced on your shoulders since your coronation date was set the day you turned 16. 
They treated you like Y/n instead of Her Majesty the heir to the throne. They made you feel normal. 
It killed you that you couldn’t be… open with your relationship. That having the world know would put them in the firing line. 
You sighed, leaning back into the leather seat as the SUV slowed, turning in front of the Emirates. The dark window tint blocked out the flashing lights, and the thousands of pounds of armor plating dulled the chanting from the throngs of people. The little flags on the cars in your motorcade told them all who was inside, even if they didn’t know which of the 4 cars you were in. 
You shifted, tugging at the hem of your jersey. “Do you think we’ll make it in time for warmups?”
The new material was still tight on your skin, so much different than the cotton dress shirts you normally wore, and the two little names above your favorite number felt unnaturally… weighted. 
They were in a way. As soon as a photographer caught a picture of them, your secret would be out. 
“I’ve sent a team ahead to clear your entrance and the box you’ll be staying in, so as long as we can get through this crowd we should make it,” Davis said, glancing up at you in the rearview mirror. “I know they’re your favorite part,”
You hummed, glancing back out of the darkened windows at the masses of people dressed in white and red. 
A part of you envied them. 
You would never be able to walk into a stadium through its entrance. You would never get to see the mural of the team that existed in the main hall of the Emirates. You would never get to sit in the supporters section, surrounded by the various chants. 
The other, larger part knew how much you despised being surrounded by people. How claustrophobic it made you feel, and how hard it made it for you to breathe.
But you still wondered if it would be different if those people weren’t carrying cameras and screaming for your attention. You wondered if watching your girlfriends do the things they loved would negate how incredibly uncomfortable you got when people were too close. 
“It just completes the whole experience,” You mumbled into the glass. 
Davis made a noise of agreement. “Yes, it does,”
He knew that one of the reasons you loved it so much was because it gave you time to not have to think. To just exist in a space where you weren’t the air to the throne. Where all that mattered was what was happening in front of you. 
You didn’t have to say it for him to know. 
He could read you like a book. He had experienced every day of your life with you. He acted more like a father than your own father did, and you trusted him implicitly. 
The car inched forward, past another gaggle of people holding their phones up to video the caravan.
“We might have to go with plan b if Her Majesty wishes to see the warmups,” Your driver said more to Davis than to you.“There’s an obstruction ahead,”
Your eyebrows pulled tightly together as the car crawled forward through the growing crowd. 
Your head of security made a gruff sound, already lifting his phone and speaking rapidly into the receiver. 
You barely paid attention to what he was saying. It didn’t really matter anyway. 
You knew he would explain when they had a plan, just like he had always done before. 
The car came to a stop, and men dressed in bright yellow jackets came pouring out of an entrance you hadn’t recognized, forming a human tunnel. 
Davis turned in his seat to face you. 
“We’re going to go in a different entrance. I’ll guide you, Gabriel and Tomas will flank us,” He explained. “It’s 16 steps to the door. Stadium security will make sure that they’re unobstructed,”
You hummed. “Will you cover my back?”
It wasn’t that you were ashamed to wear your Loves names. 
It actually made you incredibly proud and had a warmth blooming in your chest that was hard to explain. 
But you weren’t quite ready to share that with the world yet. 
You wanted to protect them from your world for as long as you could. To prevent the people who didn’t agree with your family’s policies from hurting them to get to you. 
“My jacket will block you,” Davis assured you, understanding glinting in his eyes. “We’re ready whenever you are,” 
You leaned back into the leather seat, glancing at the little walkway that had been created. Fans pressed against it, and you could imagine the wall of sound that would meet you. 
You flipped your sunglasses down over your eyes. “Let’s get this over with,” 
“I’ll get out and open your door,” Your security chief said, reiterating the protocol you always followed when you had to exit your car in a crowd. 
You nodded, never looking away from the window. 
You took a deep breath when the car door opened, letting in the onslaught of screams and cheers. They only got louder when Davis opened your door and held his hand out to help you out of the car. 
He shielded you as soon as your feet were both on the ground, wrapping an arm over your shoulders, directly blocking the names on your back. 
You tucked your face into his chest, closing your eyes at the roar of squeals and cheers that met you. 
You never did like crowds. 
You felt Tomas take up your other side and counted down the steps in your head as they guided you through the crowd. You didn’t look up at the calls of your name, or the blinding flashes of light, or the jostling that your security tried to protect you from. 
This was routine. 
The press didn’t pay for photos when your face wasn’t clearly visible. 
You let out a long breath when the entrance doors closed solidly behind you. 
“It’s over little commander,” Your burly chief of security mumbled into your hair when you didn’t immediately begin to untangle yourself from him, running his hand up and down your back. 
You really didn’t like crowds. 
You sucked in another long breath before carefully pulling away from him. 
“Thank you,” You said, straightening your hair and jersey. Smiling just a bit at the name he had given you after an incident involving your country’s general and an assassin when you were five. 
“I don’t think anyone caught a photo of your jersey, your majesty. The Captain's jacket was covering the lettering,” Gabriel added, glancing out the glass doors. “Though I think it’ll be harder to hide if we leave with guests. We’ll also need extra security,” 
It made you sigh. 
Gabriel was not a bad person, but he was young, and far too serious all of the time. 
He hadn’t learned that you didn’t need to know all of the inner workings of their operation yet, or that you were the one who would dictate what you wanted. 
You hadn’t even decided if your girlfriends would be leaving with you yet, and when you did, Davis would work it out. 
He always figured it out. 
“We’ll cross that bridge later,” Davis said, glaring at the younger guard (they would pull the SUV on the fucking field if that’s what it took), before his eyes returned to you, softening. “First, I believe your attendant is waiting to scan your ticket,”
Your eyes lit up at the prospect, looking past your burly squad towards a very shy looking girl. 
“I can scan you in,” The girl's voice shook as she spoke, her eyes darting towards your guards before meeting yours again. “Your majesty,” 
You rolled your eyes at the title. 
You hated it as much now as you had when you first learned you would be your fathers successor. As much as when people started using when you were 16 and your coordination date was set for the day you turned 22. 
Davis passed you a paper ticket and nudged you forward. 
It was a superfluous detail that your girlfriends had teased you mercilessly about. 
No one used paper tickets anymore, they said. Everything was mobile, not that you had ever needed an actual ticket. 
You stepped towards the girl, holding out the ticket with a grin. 
She very gently took it, running it under the little scanner. You walked past her after it beeped. 
It was nice to get the full experience, even if it was a bit outdated. 
“We’ll take that back,” Davis said, as the girl turned to throw the scrap of paper away. 
He reached for the ticket, tucking it into his jacket for safe keeping. 
“To the box little commander?” He asked you directly, stepping past the girl. 
You shook your head, a smirk playing at your lips. “I think a little… exploration is in order first. Especially since we’ve never come into the stadium this way before,” 
“Lead the way then,” He matched your smirk, gesturing for you to head down the hallway. “The mural you’re obsessed with is to the left,” 
Your eyes brightened again and you looked down the hallway he had gestured to. 
You would definitely have to check it out before warmups started. 
******
Alessia and Leah were… distracted, even as they passed the ball back and forth. 
Warmups had barely started and they couldn’t help the way their eyes kept falling to the box now occupied by a tall, bald man in a well-tailored suit, his aviators reflecting the field back at them. 
They should have expected it. Tomas was always the first of your personal team to arrive to a location, but usually, you followed closely behind him. 
“The queen has arrived,” Millie chuckled, intercepting the ball Leah had passed towards  Alessia. 
“She’s not queen yet,” Alessia huffed.
“How could I forget? The coronation isn’t for 2 more months,” Millie said, waving her arm dramatically. 
Leah rolled her eyes. “3 more months, actually,”
“And Y/n isn’t exactly counting down the days,” Alessia added, stealing the ball back. “She doesn’t seem too keen on the title,”
“I’m not surprised,” Ella said, catching the ball when Alessia tried to pass it to Leah. “She got mobbed coming into the stadium,”
Leah’s eyebrows furrowed. “I thought she was using the player entrance,” 
You had discussed the plan with them in detail during your nightly phone conversation, asking about the location of the locker rooms in relation to the entrance your security wanted you to use. 
They weren’t sure if you intended to surprise them before or after the match, but it didn’t really matter. 
“Apparently not,” Ella said, skirting around the forward's outstretched leg and passing it to Millie. “I saw the clip before we came out here. Looked like they formed a wall of security and then ushered her in the front gate,” 
Leah and Alessia shared a look. 
They knew how much you disliked being in a crowd. 
They could picture you tucked into your security chief’s chest like a small child, trying to hide yourself from the noise of the crowd. It was an image that had been splashed across front pages of newspapers more times than they could (or wanted) to count. It still never failed to break their hearts. 
“I never realized how big her security team was,” Ella mumbled, glancing up at the box again. “Like physically. They’re fucking mountains,” 
More of your team had joined Tomas, all wearing the same black suits and dark aviators, tall, and muscular.
They looked intimidating. Like they could take down any threat that would come at you. 
Neither Alessia nor Leah had any doubt that they would. 
Alessia shrugged. Frankly, they had both been very nervous too until you had actually introduced them to your security. They learned quickly to expect pranks from your security when they weren’t on duty, and that their protectiveness extended to them as well as you when they were. 
Considering all 12 members of your team had given them the shovel talk, they knew you were in very good hands. Hands that looked out for your mental health as well as your physical health. 
“Looks like she only brought half her team,” Leah hummed, counting the men in the suite, noting your missing head of security. He would certainly be wherever you were, and she found it slightly strange you weren’t in the box yet. 
You hated missing warmups. 
But then a group standing near the benches, behind Serina caught her eyes. 
There were 4 tall, burly men surrounded by stadium workers dressed in bright orange vests. 
“Maybe not,” Alessia mumbled, her gaze also falling to the growing crowd behind the benches. “She doesn’t usually try to come down to the field,”
“She’s never had to come through the front door before either,” Leah answered. 
Ella wiggled her eyebrows, shimming between them. “Maybe she wants to do something wild before she has the weight of a country on her back,” 
“She already has that,” Both blonde women said in unison, eyes snapping away from the sea of orange towards the midfielder. 
“She’s had that since her father put her in charge of their trade negotiations,” Alessia added. “And their UK commerce,”
Frankly, you had been taking more and more responsibility for years. Trying to gain the trust of your people so the transition of power was an easy one. A safe one. 
An uncontested one. 
“And she’s been doing a bang-up job,” Leah said, just as Davis appeared in the mix of security next to a blonde man she had never seen before. “She’s actually coming in the field,” 
“You mean we finally get to meet the Queen?” Millie said dramatically, standing on her tiptoes to catch a glimpse of you, the ball forgotten at her feet. 
Alessia slapped her stomach. “You’ve met her before. You tried to get her drunk after our Euros win and convince her to fly the England flag on her father’s palace,”
“Details,” Millie rolled her eyes, shoving the striker. “How can she see through the mass of people though?”
“It’s a special formation,” Leah grumbled, pushing Millie, and stealing the ball they had all disregarded as she moved it forward she saw Davis shift and the flash of a pair of aviators. You were certainly on the field. “Designed so she can see out but no one can see her. They’re trying not to draw attention,” 
Ella snorted. “Well, they failed at that,”
It was true. 
The fans in the stands seemed to be clamoring over themselves to see why there was a substantial crowd near the benches. 
Leah and Alessia shared a look. 
They both knew how much you hated attention. It was why you usually stayed in your box and came in through back entrances. They joked you were like a ghost coming to their games, never seen or heard. 
But this. This was different. 
Before they could respond Geriant clapped his hands, “Alright ladies let’s do some through balls on goal. Lineup,”
Leah tapped him the ball and followed Alessia to the back of the line. 
There would be time later to figure out why you had come down in the field. 
Right now they had to focus on beating Australia, especially if they wanted a good game kiss from you after the game. 
You only kissed winners. 
******
You shifted awkwardly as you leaned against the cool, stone wall outside the locker rooms, playing with the identification lanyard around your neck. 
It wasn’t often that you used your… status to get into areas no fans could. That you finagled your way into the tunnel of the stadium after a game. 
You were much more prone to letting your security whisk you in and out so you weren’t seen and no one knew if you were actually there, but today, you had been feeling bold. 
Well, kind of. 
Davis had been the one to suggest that seeing warmups at field level might be fun if you were going to venture to see the mural. 
You had agreed. 
And he had been right. 
You had gotten to chat with Serina about tactics and formations while getting a close-up view of your girlfriends in action, even if it was just warmups. 
You had gone back up to your fancy box for the game, but couldn’t resist Serina’s invitation to wait for the team in the tunnel after. 
That’s how you ended up here, shifting nervously from foot to foot while the players made their mandatory lap around the field. 
It wasn’t really being in the tunnel that had you on edge. It was that Davis had gone to coordinate your motorcade out of the stadium, and left you with Gabriel. You didn’t feel as… safe with the blonde man, and his seriousness was really starting to set you off. 
You would have to very carefully bring it up with Davis later, though you hated doing anything that could potentially make his job harder. 
“Can you, um, not stand so close please?” you mumbled, as he pressed more closely to you as players from the Australian team started to make their way down the tunnels. “I want to say hello to the players,” 
Gabriel shook his head, standing firmly. “They haven’t been checked through security,”
“They just played a match,” You rolled your eyes, pushing him away from you, trying to create some space. “I doubt any of them are smuggling a weapon between here and the locker room, or have Ill intent,” 
They were your friends. People, your girlfriends played with every day. People you had spent a lot of time with. People who saw you as a person and not as a title. They wouldn’t cause you harm. 
“We can’t take that risk, Your Majesty,” Gabriel answered, already pressing back to pin you between his back and the wall, as his head whipped back and forth. 
You shoved him off of you more harshly, stumbling with the force. “I told you to go away. Why don’t you go stand at the front of the tunnel if you’re so worried,” 
You would have face-planted had strong arms not caught you. 
“Whoa there Princess,” Leah’s warm voice chuckled in your ear, using the term of endearment that annoyed you when it came from anyone but your girlfriends. “You only had to fall for me once,”
“Leah,” Your shoulders instantly relaxed at her voice, and you looked up to meet her eyes. “You guys played so well!”
She smiled brilliantly at you, and you leaned up to place a gentle kiss on her lips. 
It only lasted a second before a large hand appeared between you. 
“No physical contact please,” Gabriel said, looking incredibly uncomfortable. “It’s policy,” 
You glared at the side of his face. 
You were definitely going to have to talk to Davis about this. 
“What about me pretty girl?” Alessia asked,  materializing to Gabriel’s right. “Do I not deserve a kiss too?
“You definitely do. That goal was a fucking banger,” You said, pulling away from the defender, and throwing out a foot mocking the way Alessia had smashed the ball. “Lee crossed it in and then woosh,”
You threw your arms out, mimicking the goal celebration that Alessia did. The one that reminded you of an airplane, right into her waiting grasp. 
She leaned forward, brushing your nose with her. “You’re adorable,”
You closed the last millimeter, connecting your lips in a gentle kiss. 
She tasted like mint gum, and blue Gatorade, and something so… Alessia. She tasted like home. 
“And you look very fit with our names on your back,” Leah added, running her fingers across the bold letters across your shoulders before she wrapped her arms around the two of you. 
You buried your face in Alessia’s chest to hide the red blooming across your cheeks, earning a giggle from both women. 
“Your majesty, I don't feel comfortable with this situation,” Gabriel said, clearing his throat, and stepping into your space. He leaned down and lowered his voice like he thought it would prevent Leah and Alessia from hearing him.  “We’re in too public of a place. It’s not befitting of the crown,”
You froze, your back going rigid. 
It was one thing for him to not understand personal boundaries. For him to be hyper-vigilant. 
You could chalk that up to his… newness. 
But this. This you could not tolerate. 
Your fingers caught Alessia’s top before she could pull away, forcing her to stay pressed against you, as your other hand reached back to hold Leah’s hip. You didn’t need them to move. You didn’t want them to move. 
You took a deep breath before pulling your face out of Alessia’s chest to stare daggers at the bulky, blonde man. 
“Call for backup,” You said, your voice deadly calm. 
He raised an eyebrow at you. “There’s no need. I have it-“ 
“It wasn’t a request,” You cut him off icily. “Call for backup now, or I will do it myself,” 
He paused at your tone, glancing at the teammates and friends that had been on their way to the locker room, also frozen at the foreign chill in your voice. 
It was the tone you saved for meetings with world leaders you didn’t particularly like. Ones with foreign dignitaries who thought they could walk all over you, your family, and your country. 
He took a step back, lowering his voice like he was talking to a child. “Your majesty, I don’t think this is a proper conversation to have with an audience,” 
You weren’t in the mood to be scolded. 
“And I don’t care what you think,” You bit back, letting go of Leah’s hip to reach up to your necklace, pressing the bottom button hidden on the pendant twice. 
The signal that you needed assistance, but it wasn’t emergent or life-threatening. 
Still, within 30 seconds Tomas was rounding the corner near the locker rooms, speed walking towards you. The crowd of white and yellow jerseys parted for him like he was Mosis. 
You were slightly disappointed it wasn’t Davis, but Tomas would do. 
“Little commander,” He nodded his head in greeting, his eyes flickering across the scene before returning to you. “How can I be of assistance,”
You appreciated that he had addressed you first. 
That he acknowledged that you were the one in control here. 
But Gabriel didn’t seem to get that message. 
“Your presence isn’t needed,” The blonde security man huffed, “Her majesty is throwing a temper tantrum,”
Alessia’s fingers tightened around your hips, and you didn’t have to look at her to see the scowl pulling across her lips. Leah’s arms similarly squeezed around your shoulders and you knew daggers were being thrown his way. 
Had this been any other circumstance you were sure the growing crowd of footballers would have oooed. 
Not that you needed them.
You had this all under control. 
“Take Gabriel to the exit,” You said evenly, command and… dominance, radiating through the simple words. “or to the dumpster or the Thames. I don’t really care but get him away from me. He is relieved of his duty,”
The blonde security man sputtered. “You can’t do that. I’m-“
“Actually I can,” You cut him off. “I can do whatever the fuck I want. Tomas, please remind Gabriel of the terms of his service,”
Tomas cleared his throat, suppressing a grin. “We serve at the pleasure of our charge, Her Majesty, Princess of Braavos, heir to the throne,”
Your chest puffed a bit at your full title. 
One you generally despised, but it served its purpose here. 
“And you certainly have not… pleasured me. Not that you’re capable,” Your lips turned upwards in a cruel smirk, as Alessia and Leah, and the surrounding crowd didn’t hold in their giggles. “Perhaps you should work on your listening, and little things called consent and common sense,”
“Let’s go,” Tomas caught Gabriel’s arms before he could protest or argue with you, not that there was anything he could say. The taller, balder security man made eye contact with you before he hauled Gabriel away. “Davis and Matthew will be by shortly. I’ve left Carson at the top of the tunnel and I’ll have him perform personal security until they arrive,”
You sent him a stiff nod, standing at your full height until they were out of sight before you let yourself collapse back into Alessia. 
You would never. Could never truly be alone. 
“I fucking hate doing that,” You groaned into her chest, and Leah leaned forward to press a kiss to the back of your neck.
“We know love,” The defender hummed into your soft skin, and Alessia made a sound of agreement, shooing the crowd of football players around you to go about their way.  
“But on the bright side, you did look proper sexy,” Alessia said, gently pinching the skin just beneath the hem of your jersey. “Her Majesty, Princess of Braavos, heir to the throne,”
You couldn’t help the giggle that bugged from your lips at her terrible rendition of Tomas’ heavy accent. The one you worked incredibly hard to suppress.
It had come out slightly in the exchange, the only indicator that English was not your first language. 
It was something that happened when you were annoyed, which was rare in itself. You didn’t like to wield your power, and thankfully, you usually didn’t have to in your personal life. 
“For a second I thought you were going to yell at him in Valyrian,” Leah said, her lips working from the back of your neck up to just behind your ear. 
You hummed. “I try not to do that in mixed company,” 
Despite how much you had pushed against the mold of your upbringing, your impeccable manners could not be changed. 
Plus you knew how much Leah and Alessia loved when you spoke in your native language. How… wound up… it made them. You didn’t want to associate your annoyance with that. Ever. 
Alessia smirked. “So he can’t pleasure you?” 
You rolled your eyes at the change in subject. 
“No. He was only on my team for 3 days, and I wanted to strangle him for most of it,” Your lips pulled up in an impish smirk. “Plus I could tell that he’s never given out a feminominon in his fucking life,” 
Leah mirrored the expression against your neck, and Alessia’s eyes sparkled.
“I think we could definitely show you what we know about feminominons,” Leah said, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin just below your ear. 
 “Would you like to shower with us?”Alessia’s thumb ran over the skin just above your pants. “We promise we won’t bite, “
“Unless you ask nicely,” Leah finished, her teeth grazing over the wet skin she had just kissed. 
It was sometimes scary how they could finish each other's thoughts, though you weren’t convinced that this had been their endgame all along. 
You melted into them, the rest of your annoyance fading. 
“I would love nothing more,” 
They nodded at Carson as they dragged you towards the locker room, the shorter, muscular man shifting to stand by the door, already talking into his earpiece. 
You just needed some time with your girls. 
It’s what you wanted and the security team would respect that and leave you undisturbed. 
They served at your pleasure after all, and so did your girlfriends apparently. 
Well, at least at the moment, they would serve to pleasure you. 
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stevebabey · 1 year ago
Text
Eddie is beginning to wonder if he’ll ever reach a point where Steve couldn’t reduce him to this state.
This state being… transfixed. Eddie is sure he must look like a lovesick cartoon. In fact, if he could manage to drag his gaze away, he’d probably find red hearts circling around his head in a halo, popping like little bubbles.
But Eddie can’t move his eyes. Can’t even close his mouth either.
Steve’s talking to him too, which is most definitely worse — he’s totally missing every word. He can see Steve’s lips moving, pink plush lips wrapping around words but fuck, that was a total trap because now Eddie is just looking at his lips. He tries to refocus, to listen. His eyes just wander back to what he was staring back at the first place.
Was Steve like this all the time? Just a walking around looking so damn delectable?
Or is it Eddie, just a starved man who’s been living off stolen glances, for as long as he can remember? For once, he’s learning, he’s allowed to look.
And by God, is he looking.
Steve’s not even doing it on purpose either, which probably makes the whole thing funnier. Eddie knows what his boyfriend (boyfriend! he thinks giddily in his mind) looks like when he’s cleaned up to impress. He can spot the way Steve preens beneath Eddie’s lingering gaze.
This is not that. Today, Steve is just cleaning, a usual Sunday morning ritual.
He’s got some old sport shorts on and he’s clearly grown a bit since he first got them— unless Hawkins has always been giving out slutty little shorts to the basketball team (They haven’t. Eddie would know if they did.)
He’s wearing one of his wife-beater singlets too. It’s a little on the scrappy side though, considering it’s nearly see-through with how worn it is.
Honestly, in Eddie’s humble and gay opinion, it’s stupidly hot. The dark hair dusted across of Steve’s chest is visible beneath it, the shirt showing off the shape of his broad chest. Even better, his happy trail is visible and goddamn, if that doesn’t make Eddie happy, he doesn’t know what will.
But it’s not even that.
Quite frankly, Eddie’s rather embarrassed that he’s basically blue-screening because Steve is pulling out the cord out from the vacuum cleaner.
But… but he’s yanking it up towards his chest, slow and strong repetitive motions— that take enough effort to make his biceps bulge with every tug.
Eddie can’t stop watching. The cord must be several metres long and he’s not sure if he should be cursing it or thanking it for the view he gets; Steve’s tan arms flexing and rippling. Try as he might, Eddie can’t help imagining how they must look when Steve’s got his hand aroun—
“—hello? Are you even listening to me?”
Steve’s voice cuts into Eddie’s dangerously side-tracked thoughts and he pauses his tugging at the same time. It’s the thing that finally allows him to break his lustful stare at Steve’s arms. Oh God, he just got all hot and bothered over his boyfriend doing the vacuuming.
“Hello.” Eddie says back, because that was the first word to register in his brain. “I mean- yes. I’m—”
Eddie decides mid-sentence that he’s not getting away with the lie. He pivots. “Okay, no, I didn’t hear that. Would you please tell me what you just said, oh lovely sweet man of mine?”
Ever the butterer-upper, he was. Thank God it works on Steve. He rolls his eyes a little but there’s an adoring grin on his lips.
“Man of mine,” Steve mutters amusedly under his breath. He drops the vacuum cord on the carpeted floor and leans down the grab the handle of the vacuum. “You just kinda froze when you came in. I was asking if everything was okay? I’m just doing this room then I’ll be done, if you don’t like the noise.”
Eddie adores that Steve’s taken his silence as though he might be afraid of the vacuum cleaner or something. He nearly snorts aloud at how far from the truth it is.
“Uh huh.” Eddie nods, not bothering to correct him. He jerks a thumb behind him, pointing at nothing. “I’m just gonna…”
He spins on his heel and exits left stage, fast as he can while still looking normal (he’s unsuccessful, as he leaves a baffled Steve behind him.) As he enters into the kitchen and decides to fix them both a pot of coffee, Eddie lets himself giggle over the pure absurdity of what just happens.
It’s mortifying. It’s hilarious. He can never tell Steve.
Except, when Steve comes to find him in the kitchen and trades a kiss for some coffee, Eddie can’t help it. All he ever wants to do is make Steve laugh.
He decides it’s worth the embarrassment when Steve laughs so hard coffee comes out his nose.
Steve teasingly promises that he’ll to try be less distracting, then rescinds his words at Eddie’s abject reaction (“Don’t you dare.”) looking far too smug— in a delighted sort of way. Preening, in that way Eddie loves.
Their first kiss, as Eddie slides onto Steve’s lap and loops his arms over his shoulders, fingers dancing on those tasty arms, tastes a little bit like coffee. Their mugs grow cold, untouched.
Eddie doesn’t mind — he’s too busy finding out that the rest of their kisses taste like something between sunlight and Steve.
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hennyjwrites · 1 year ago
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Oh how about Spencer Reid and pregnant reader? She works for the BAU and he’s so protective of her, not wanting her to lift a finger. That would be so cute🥰
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Spencer held Y/n’s hand and guided her through to Penelope's lair. If she would let him, he would’ve stuck a baby on board sign on her baby bump and her back.
“Oh! Look at the baker carrying the bread!” She cried walking over to y/n, excitedly. She was one of the most excited BAU members for the couple. She helped Spencer guide her to a chair.
Y/n hummed as she sat down in a spare chair Penny had. “Hey Penny.” She turned to Spencer. “Can I have a soda?” She knew Spencer would get it for her. He was doing everything for her during her whole pregnancy, especially now since she was getting closer to her due date.
“Of course.” Spencer smiled, kissing her cheek before walking out of the room and towards the team's kitchen.
Y/N and Penelope began having their own conversation about the baby. Y/n couldn’t wait for her baby to come. Her and Spencer had already decided that she would take the rest of the year off which was only a few months but enough time to bond with
her baby.
Spencer came back to the lair with more than y/n had asked for. He had an arm filled with several sodas and snacks. “I got several different things for you, just so you don’t have to get up while I’m gone. 27% of women fall while pregnant and I don't want you to be a part of the statistics.” He rambled on setting the several different items on Penelope’s counter.
Y/n laughed at her husband's actions. She loved his caring nature for her. As she went to reach for a soda, Spencer stopped her. “Hold on, let me get that for you.” He was so protective over her and the baby that she couldn’t do anything alone. Spencer grabbed the soda she reached for , opened it and even went as far as to bring it up to her lips. Y/n smiled before taking a sip.
Penelope who watched the interaction, had already taken out her phone and was recording the two. It was a beautiful sight to see. When she was done, Spencer sat the drink down, and rubbed her stomach lovingly.
“I have to go back to the case now. I love you.” Spencer voiced, kissing her.
“I Love you too.” Y/n smiled, grabbing a bag of chips off the counter next. Cravings were kicking her ass.
Before Spencer pulled away he made sure to leave a kiss on the baby bump. “I love you too, munchkin.” He waited to feel a small kick against his hand before he walked out the room.
As Y/N and Penelope began to talk and laugh as they always do, Y/n just couldn’t be more happy with the man she's decided to make another life with.
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elizabethsnuts · 2 months ago
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hiii, i love your fics so much omg. for your toddler!reader ones do you think maybe you could write one where spencer takes his daughter to a bau family gathering type thing but instead of playing with the other kids there she just wants to stay with spencer the whole time? or something like that? its totally okay if you dont want to write that ofc. i hope you have a good day <3
By Your Side
Spencer Reid x Daughter!Reader
Summary: The team has a get-together but you refused to move away from your dad the whole night.
———
The team was having another one of their get-togethers, a break from the usual brutal cases and endless case files. Spencer had taken you with him obviously, JJ had taken Henry and Hotch had Jack with him.
Henry and Jack were playing with each other, taking food off the tables and running around. You didn’t want to stray too far from Spencer, opting to stay right next to him, you weren’t into the whole play fighting Henry and Jack were doing at the moment anyway.
Spencer knelt down to your level, watching your tiny hands fiddle with your little top. “Hey, sweetheart. Don’t you wanna go play with Jack and Henry?”
You shook your head quickly, holding onto Spencer tightly. “No, stay with Daddy.”
Spencer had a feeling that you didn’t want to get involved in whatever rough games Henry and Jack had decided to play and maybe some separation anxiety. You weren’t the most extroverted toddler, usually staying right beside Spencer and not talking, but you did enjoy playing with Jack and Henry. That was when they weren’t trying to tackle each other to the ground.
Spencer nodded softly and smiled, picking you up and holding you in his arms. “That’s alright, you can stay with me.”
You stayed in Spencer’s arms most of the night, listening as he talked with the team and rambled on about whatever statistics were passing his head. When it came to dinner time, Spencer had helped fix up a plate with some food for you before he got his own. However, that did mean you had to sit at the kid's table to eat and you were not happy about that.
“No! Eat with Daddy!” You cried and tried to run back over to Spencer who was getting his food sorted. He had put you in the little plastic chairs next to Henry and Jack to eat your food.
“Y/N, sweetheart, it’s only while you eat your food and then you can come right back to me. I swear, honey.” Spencer said gently, taking your tiny hand and bringing you back over to the table.
You tried to resist but you were still just a little toddler and you weren’t stronger than Spencer. He didn't want to hurt you so when you started tugging away from his hand, he picked you up and placed you on the chair. You couldn’t do anything other than sit there and cry.
Henry noticed you weren’t eating your food so he quickly pinched some off your plate and onto his own with a smile. JJ, who was keeping an ear on the conversation at the table with the team while also keeping an eye on the kid's table, noticed Henry’s little food-stealing act.
“Uhm, excuse me. We don’t steal people’s food, Henry. That’s Y/N’s dinner, not yours. Put it back please.” JJ said gently but also with a firm tone.
Henry sighed and gave you the food back with a long huff. You didn’t actually care that he stole your food, you were too upset to even eat.
“Daddy!” You cried loudly, looking at Spencer at the team table. You just wanted him, you didn’t want to eat your dinner and you certainly didn’t want to watch Jack and Henry shove food in their mouths with their unsanitary hands.
Spencer eventually caved, he couldn’t bear to hear your desperate cries for him anymore. He quickly scooped you up from the kid's table and sat you on his lap, grabbing your plate of food as well. “You’re alright, sweet girl. You’re okay. Daddy’s got you and we’ll eat together, okay?”
You started to calm down once you were back in Spencer’s arms, you nodded slowly and sniffled. You slowly but surely ate your dinner which was a win since you were usually very picky.
Spencer smiled and kissed the top of your head. “You did a good job eating! I’m so proud of you, you nearly finished your whole plate!”
The rest of the night was just the team chatting and discussing things together while two crazy preschoolers were throwing themselves around the bullpen. You fell asleep on Spencer’s shoulder before the clock even hit 9 at night, you were spent but content now that Spencer was back holding you. He’d always try to be by your side.
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wosoamazing · 3 months ago
Text
Birth
Baby x3 | Baby, Baby... Baby?
Summary: The triplets are born.
Warnings: Surgery, Hospitals
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“You’re okay, bebé, just focus on me,” Alexia told you, causing your roaming eyes to focus on her, and she smiled at you from where she sat, just next to your head on a stool, you smiled back slightly, clearly nervous, you didn’t like surgery, it scared you, and truth be told neither did Alexia but she had to stay strong for you, “I love you, you’re doing amazing bebé, just try and relax for me,” you nodded before closing your eyes, willing yourself to be anywhere else. 
Alexia didn’t know if you would actually be able to last the whole time needed for the procedure, especially when a tear rolled down the side of your face, followed by a few more. She quickly wiped them away before squeezing your hand, and kissing your forehead, she couldn’t help but feel this was her fault, you opted out of having general anaesthesia for many reasons, but one of which was that Alexia couldn’t be there if you had chosen it, and it was only fair that she got to witness this too. 
Alexia watched as your midwife asked the doctor something quietly, to which he nodded before she went to the anesthesiologist and asked him too, and he nodded before starting to set up something else, whilst your midwife approached Alexia.
-
“Bebé, would you like to try some nitrous oxide? See if it helps? It’s okay if not but we just thought to offer. Maybe see if it will help you relax slightly?” Alexia asked you softly and you gave a hesitant nod.
Alexia was handed the mouthpiece from the anesthesiologist, and she then turned all her focus back on you “bebé, I’m just going to separate our hands for a moment, okay?” she did so and soon your hand was placed over hers. She gently brought the mouthpiece to your mouth and you took a few breaths before pulling it back, and after a few more breaths you felt yourself relax slightly more, enough so that you felt comfortable enough to open your eyes and look at her, giving her a small smile.
——————
“Okay, everyone ready, first baby will be out soon,” you looked at Alexia and she smiled and nodded, you both weren’t going to really get a view of the babies before they had to be taken away, being born at 33 weeks there was a large unknown as to how much support they would need and what complications would arise meaning each baby having a NICU team ready for them in the OR.
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After what felt like forever the surgery was finally over and you were wheeled back to a private recovery room. Where Alexia sat by your side once again, watching you as you fought back sleep.
“Bebé, if you’re tired sleep, I’ll wake you up if the doctors come in, and I promise I won’t leave you, I love you so much, and I am incredibly proud of you,” you nodded your head at her, mumbling an “I love you too,” before falling asleep.
Your midwife walks in just minutes later and Alexia goes to wake you, “No need to wake her, I’m just checking her blood pressure and other vitals,” she says and Alexia nods, “Also the babies are good, they obviously still have to do all the tests and things could change especially within the next hour or so but so far everything is looking good,” Alexia nods once again, worried she might cry if she opened her mouth.
“Is it alright if I let a visitor in?” your perinatologist asks as he walks in, and Alexia nods hesitantly, “as we spoke about in your plan I’ve already explained everything that happened to her,” he continued as Eli walked in and over to her daughter.
“I’ll be back in a bit,” he said before he left, your midwife following him.
“You’re a Mami now,” Eli said softly, hyper aware that you were sleeping just beside her.
“Sí, I just hope it was the right decision,” 
“What do you mean?”
“She was so scared Mami, they gave her nitrous oxide to help her calm down and it did help slightly but not that much, it’s why she is sleeping now, she was on the verge of a panic attack the whole time, she’s exhausted, and I feel bad, it’s because of me, she stayed awake because of me,”
“From what I heard you were very very good to her though, and you both had many conversations about it, she’d even spoken to me about what to do and ultimately I think she wanted you there with her more than she didn’t want to be awake,” Alexia just nodded and hummed, before getting out of her chair.
“Sit,” she practically ordered her mother, before she moved to stand beside your bed, softly brushing some strands of hair out of your face, causing you to stir slightly.
“Ale,” you said groggily.
“Sorry bebé, you don’t need to be awake, are you feeling okay though?”
“Mm-hmm, lie with me?” you said, you were already positioned over to one side of the bed, and so Alexia carefully slipped into the bed beside you, before you placed your head on her shoulder, promptly falling back asleep.
“She is definitely not mad at you,” Eli laughed slightly, earning her a harsh glare from her eldest.
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“They’re perfect,” you whispered as you held two of the babies against your chest, a blanket covering you and them, Alexia sat beside you, holding the other against her chest.
“You did an amazing job Bebé, thank you,” she replied, as soft tears fell down her cheeks
“I can’t believe we’re mami’s now,” you told her, and looked at her. 
“I love you bebé,” Alexia said before placing a soft kiss on your lips.
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Mapi was sitting on the bus, with her headphones in as the team travelled up to Bunyol for their game against Levante when she received a message from you and Alexia with a photo. You both looked to be shirtless as you sat side by side on the small hospital bed, two small babies laid on your chest covered by a blanket, and beside you one baby laid on Alexia’s chest, also covered by a blanket. You and Alexia both looked absolutely exhausted, and at the bottom of the picture Mapi could see several wires coming out from under the blankets that were clearly connected to the babies. Yet you were still both beaming. 
Your god daughters are here. Meet Estella María Putellas, Mila María Putellas, and Livia María Putellas born 21 March 2020 at 11:00am.
As Mapi felt tears begin to fall from her eyes a collective gasp was heard from the rest of the team. Alexia had sent the exact same photo to the team group chat just minutes after the message to Mapi was sent.
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theemporium · 7 months ago
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can i request 💜 "You're the only one who gets to call me that, you know." with luke hughes please!!
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
22. "You're the only one who gets to call me that, you know."
.
In a sport like hockey, you got used to being called a variety of different names for a variety of stupid reasons. 
Some made sense. Some had a funny backstory. Some were born from an embarrassing memory you could never escape. Some had no real correlation but it was used once and it stuck and now the whole team used it. It was just one of the dynamics of hockey that you got used to pretty early on. 
And the thing was that Luke didn’t hate his name. He didn’t, it would have broken his parents heart if he said as much. It just wasn’t exactly like he was ecstatic for people to throw ‘Luke Warren Hughes’ at him. Or at least, he didn’t like it when his middle name was brought into the locker room. 
Maybe it was PTSD from the teasing he got when he was in middle school. Maybe it was the fact it sounded a little like it belonged to a sixty year old man. Or maybe it was because he was so damn used to being known as ‘Luke Hughes’ or ‘the other Hughes’, that he sometimes forgot he had a middle name.
Whatever the reason was, Luke never liked it being used in the locker room by the boys. He didn’t really like the name being used, full stop. Unless it was one of his parents using it. He thought he managed to avoid it for years until he joined the New Jersey Devils and met the team—met you.
Because, for some fucking reason that was beyond his own understanding, every rule and belief Luke had went flying out the window when it came to you. 
Including the use of his middle name.
“God, Warren, couldn’t even use a comb this morning?” 
Luke felt his cheeks heat up as he lifted his head to find you wandering into the locker room. Most of the team were already out on the ice, but Luke was one of the stragglers that was still getting his gear on. It wasn’t his fault the team decided team pictures needed to be taken at an ungodly hour before practice. 
“Does it look that bad?” Luke questioned, trying to ignore the pleasant twist in his stomach when you flashed him a smile and made your way over to him.
“I think it looks cute,” you replied, lip tucked between your teeth as you reached out to gently run your fingers through his curls. “Curtis might give you some shit though.”
“Curtis always gives me shit,” he mumbled, letting his eyes flutter shut as your nails gently scraped along his scalp. 
“Hm, well tell him to come talk to me if he gives you a hard time for your curls,” you said, and even with his eyes closed, he could hear the smile in your voice. 
His cheeks burned as he tilted his head back to look at you, his own smile mirroring yours. “Gonna be my knight in shining armour?” 
“M’always gonna have your back, Warren,” you replied, your voice a little softer. A little more genuine. 
He swallowed. “You’re the only one who gets to call me that, you know.” 
Your smile widened. “Oh, I know. Jack told me you once got into a fight during a game back in middle school after some guy on the other team used it.”
He groaned a little at the memory. “Quinn and Jack gave me so much shit after that. They called me Warren for a week after that.” 
You snorted. “What did you do?”
“I told on them,” he admitted, a little sheepish. “They got grounded for a week.” 
You laughed and his smile widened at the sound.
“So how come you let me use it?” You asked, something else in your voice that Luke couldn’t quite name but it still made his heart speed up a little.
“I guess I like you more than them.” It was meant to come out light-hearted and teasing, but it felt far too heavy and suggestive once the words left his mouth.
“Enough to grab something to eat after practice?” You asked, so casual and calm like you couldn’t see the way Luke’s whole face was burning a pretty shade of red. 
“More than enough,” he said with a nod, unable to fight the grin off his face when you smiled back.
“Then better get your pretty ass out there before the boys make you do drills after practice for being late,” you teased, laughing as you watched him quickly shove on the rest of his gear before rushing out the door.
.
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obislittleone · 7 months ago
Text
Too Sweet
Dbf!Joel Miller x College!Reader
A/n: hey guys so i may or may not take a writing break (i know i said i was gonna write more but like) the stress of all the nazi shits that keep plaguing my comment sections on every post i make, regardless if it’s political or not is making me wanna tear my head off… so I might just go away a while.
Warnings: fluff, awkward mentions of past relationships, dbf!joel, smut, piv (unprotected), so much teasing. It’s actually pretty cute guys.
Is anyone at all surprised by the song choice? Hozier has us all in a headlock rn… also this is dedicated to my favorite joel writer @macfrog bc she’s just amazing and you should read her work.
MASTERLIST
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“Babygirl,” he breathed, pulling back but not away, his face still inches from your own. You could clearly see his blown pupils and focused expression. “Get upstairs.” Though you wanted to tease him, wanted to quip back a quiet ‘or what?’, you needed him just as much, and you weren’t going to be told twice. 
“Dates are a bad idea,” you reminded him, handing over another nail from the box in your hands.
A last minute kitchen Island was added to the kitchen’s floor plan on the current house the team had been working on, so now it was up to yourself and Joel to make that happen. Well, it was up to Joel to make that happen, and it was up to you to stand by and watch him. 
“I know, s’just,” he shook his head, hammering the nail down and holding his hand up for another. “I don’t get the whole thing these days where relationships are built on hookups.”
Your lips turned up in a smile. He was an old fashioned guy, with old fashioned ideals about love and dating and relationships. It was sweet, albeit a little obnoxious. You rather liked hooking up with him, however little it may be.
“Where would we even go?” you saw how on the first hit, the nail went crooked, so you handed him another before he even reached. 
“I don’t know, hadn’t thought that far.”
You had to laugh at that. 
“You wanna take me on a date but you don’t know where we would go?” 
“Well,” he finished the last nail then stood up next to you, scratching the back of his neck. “This ain’t exactly an easy situation, we got your old man to avoid.”
Very reasonable, but sort of an obvious point by now. This entire thing started based on the fact that: you know each other because of your father, as in, they are each other’s closest friend. Pair that with one man hooking up with the other’s daughter, it becomes a disaster waiting to happen… except for he doesn’t see it that way, and neither do you. 
You sighed, looking around to make sure everyone was still outside with the boss. Joel had just wiped his forehead on his arm to rid himself of the sweat, and you could see the tension in his muscles from the work he just finished. You stepped up to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close enough to peck his lips once. 
“If you can find a place where we won't get caught, then I’d love to go on a date with you.” 
He smiled, kissing you again. He had wanted to tell you he was too sweaty for hugs right now, but as soon as you wrapped yourself around him, those thoughts suddenly left his mind. You just fit so well against him, he wonders how he never realized. 
-
He was even older than you thought. Not actually, but this man had decided on a date location, and as you were pulling in, the things packed into the backseat started to make sense. 
“Drive In movies?” You shouldn’t be surprised, the guy is practically a fossil, he even texts like he's still got a flip phone.
“Your dad’s never taken you here?” He chuckled, pulling into the line at the front. 
“No,” you laughed, leaning back in your seat as the cars ahead moved up. 
“Good, then we won’t run into him.” 
You reached and grabbed his hand over the center console. He always gave two little squeezes before readjusting his grip, rubbing his thumb on the center of your palm. It was sweet, comforting. 
He rolled down his window and paid the attendant in the booth, just a kid, probably still in high-school… but he certainly had an attitude on him, given the nasty glare he served Joel after making eye-contact with you. Joel had never let go of your hand, the kid knew he wasn’t your dad. 
“What’d you tell him, anyway?” He asked, driving off towards the lot on the opposite side of the land. The big screen was not even rolling the trailers yet. 
“Hm?” 
“Your dad,” he seemed almost shy about mentioning your dad in front of you, in this context. How did you lie to him this time? But he knew what he was doing, what he’d been doing and still plans on doing. 
“Told ‘im I was gonna go shopping with a friend, that I may or may not sleep over.”
He raised an eyebrow and smirked, never taking his eyes off the road. He pulled into a spot in the very back corner, where it was likely to remain empty the entire duration of the movie. 
“Oh did you, now?” 
You turned a light shade of pink at admitting to him you wanted to sleep over… not like it was a new occurrence, but you hadn’t really asked him yet. 
“I didn’t tell him for sure, I know Sarah-”
“Sarah’s with Tommy at a concert in Dallas,” he said, unbuckling his seat belt and turning off the engine. “Text your dad, let him know that friend of yours is keepin’ you till tomorrow.”
He got out of the truck, walking around the front to open your door, holding his hand out to help you down. Ever the gentleman. 
“Thank you, kind sir,” you teased, walking around the backseat door and helping him unload the piles of blankets he’d managed to stuff in. The man practically emptied the top shelf of his linen closet for this. 
“Anything for you, M’lady.” 
He ended up taking almost everything into his arms, letting you carry one pillow and a single blanket towards the back of the truck. Normally it was all dusty and gross, proof of the work it helped him do. You wouldn’t even have noticed, because you don’t often pay attention to the state of other people’s truck beds, but he had cleaned the whole thing out, making it look as if he’d just brought it home from the dealership… minus the odds and ends of dents from his toolbox and timber. 
“What’s playin’?” You nodded up to the screen as he took the pillows and blankets, tossing them across the truck bed to make a cozy little area for the two of you. 
“It’s uh…” he reached into his pocket, checking the nightly double stubs. “Jaws and E.T., it’s a Spielberg double feature.”
You don’t remember telling him that Spielberg was your favorite director, but maybe he was just already at that place where he could read your mind… or maybe it was just a coincidence and he thought that the throwback double feature at the drive in would be fun. Either way, he hit the nail right on the head. 
“Sounds good to me.” 
When everything was settled just the way he wanted, he turned to you, his hand out towards the blankets. “After you, darlin.”
You tried to step up on the tailgate, but your foot slipped for how high it was. 
“Want me to give you a toss?” He joked, but you rolled your eyes at him. You would not be acquiring his help after that joke. 
“I’ll be just fine, thank you.” 
It may have been embarrassing, but like hell you were gonna give into him, his chuckles of amusement under his breath as you slowly and steadily climbed up by yourself. It was much harder to grab onto the dip in the bed when there were so many blankets spread out. Eventually you made it up, collapsing onto your back into the mound of bedding. 
“First try,” you raised a fist in the air, looking back to him to see his amusement had not ended and he was smiling wide where he stood, arms crossed and brows raised when your eyes met. “You comin’?”
And as easily as he could walk, he used the ridge along the underside of the tailgate to climb up over on the side, sitting down next to you and giving you a light hearted side eye. “See how easy that was?” 
“Oh yeah, sure. You must be so proud, you’re a pro at climbing into your own truck.”
He laughed, laying back beside you. “Baby, I think anyone looks like a pro compared to you.”
“Maybe I’m just more athletically inclined, wanted to take the long way,” you chided, sitting up onto your elbows and looking over at him. The trailers had started running, and the light was hitting his features so nicely. He looked so nice. You could argue that he always did. At work when he was a sweaty mess, he looked real good then, too.
“I’m sure that’s it.” 
He settled against the pillows, nodding his head upwards for you to join him. He brought you near with open arms, one that settled under your shoulder and the other that settled on your waist. You’d tucked your head under his chin, feeling him rest his head on top of yours. 
You both had fucked around, sure… but this was a little slice of heaven right here. No amount of sneaking around or giving each other temporary pleasure beat the simplicity of laying next to one another, breathing in each other’s air, and being on a date. A real one. It wasn't a hasty exchange built upon needing to get off, but a choice to spend genuine time together, in which you receive nothing but the pleasure of one's company.
You couldn’t remember the last time you went on a date. Joel was right, hookup culture had become too strong in this day and age. It stands to reason that you haven’t actually slept with anyone in a while. You like being asked out, but guys your age don’t exactly want to give you that satisfaction. Joel asked you out. Sure, he fucked you silly on the stretch of his fingers only a week ago… but he still asked you out.
Jaws ended sooner than you thought it would. Back when you were a kid, and afraid of sharks, it seemed much longer of a movie. There was a lull between it and E.T., assuming the kid working in the projection tower had to change out the film roll himself. It made for a sweet and quiet conversation that sparked up as soon as the credits rolled. 
“You bring a lot of girls here?” 
He rolled his eyes and shook his head, even though it was meant as a teasing question. 
“Nah,” he said anyway, turning a bit more to face you. “Usually, I don’t have to hide from my girlfriend’s dads. Not since highschool, anyway.”
You almost didn’t catch it. His use of the word girlfriend, which subtly implied that’s what you were… but you weren’t one to assume, or at least, not with Joel and the risky business of your relationship. You laced your hand with his between your bodies, looking down at his fingers while you did your best to recover the conversation without acting awkward. 
“The more I think about it, I’m not so sure my dad would be angry.”
Joel wished he had the mindset to think that way. 
“You kiddin’ me? If your dad found out I’d been messin with his only daughter, I’d get his shotgun to my head.” 
A laugh escaped your lips, but you shook your head. 
“You’re not just messin with me, though…” 
At least, you hoped he wasn’t. Of all things that could be said about you and Joel, it was that you had already gotten attached. Already been to a place where you miss seeing him at work every day when you go home. Miss talking to him and learning more about his life, and having him listen about yours. There have been so many people in your life who told you that you talk too much, or that you never shut up. But Joel never has. He listens, and he’s happy to. You’d hate to lose that one day and never get it back.
“No,” he lifted your chin so you’d meet his eyes again. “I’m not just messin with ya.”
You held his stare for a moment, neither of you leaned in. It was just a nice moment, to look at one another, and to appreciate what you saw. A moment to see that hey, Joel has little flecks of gold in the brown of his eyes. A little moment for when you get sad that he isn’t around, that way you can remember how he looks at you when he is around. It’s something mixed with longing and contentment. Two opposites that somehow come together on his features and tell you more than his words could ever say. 
“Good,” you finally replied. “In any case, my dad won’t shoot ya. I think he loves you too much.”
He laughed, the low rumble vibrated through his chest, and you felt it against your joined hands.
“You don’t suppose I could woo him over too, huh?” 
“I don’t think your charm would sway him as easily.”
“Oh I got charm, now?”
“No, not really… nice ass, though,” you giggled, and he playfully shoved your arm back, causing you to fall into a fit of laughter on your back. “Just bein’ honest, mister.”
“I see how it is,” he pulled you back in with a swift move of his arm. “Only want me for my body.”
“What can I say? I’m a modern woman in a modern world.”
“S’all the same to me, whatever gets you to agree to a date with me. Still can’t believe you did…” 
He says it half jokingly. You know he doesn’t see himself as desirable. Even though he’s in the prime of his life and is quite literally one of the finest men this town has to offer, he looks at the obstacles. He works too often, has a teenage daughter, he doesn’t look the way he used to, some people find him incredibly boring… but only the worst people. 
“Joel, I'm lucky to be on a date with you.” 
“Yeah, sure… s’not like you ain’t got a hundred guys your age lining up behind me to-”
You kissed him. He was not going to be permitted to speak if he was not going to say nice things about himself, a new rule you were establishing. He didn’t seem to care much for the rest of his sentence after you pulled away, the words slipping from his mind the second your lips touched his. 
“I like you,” you told him, making your intentions very clear to him. You weren’t just messing around, either. “You treat me better than all those shitheads, anyway.”
-
You’d been passing in and out of consciousness on the drive home. You’d been up since the crack of dawn this morning, the neighbor’s dog barking incessantly. You’re sure Joel heard it too, unless of course he’d been laying on his good ear, the bad one would have canceled out all the noise. 
The streetlights go by in waves over your eyes, lids closed lightly after each time they flutter. You were curled so sweetly into the passenger seat of Joel’s truck, finding such comfort in the place. You’d have thought it was where you spent most of your time. His hand was on the edge of your knee the whole drive, rubbing small circles over the area. 
By the time you both had gotten home, you had to scan the yard for signs that your dad may be in the near vicinity. He was usually never home on a Friday night, unless there was a Rangers game or if he had company. It made sense that his car was gone when you both pulled up. 
“You text him, yet?” 
You shook your head, pulling your phone out of your back pocket and completing the task meant for three hours ago. 
“It’s only ten, he might be at the bar, still.”
You didn’t over explain anything in your message, no need to make him question your thoroughness. Just something simple and quick. 
Staying over at Amy’s, I’ll be back before lunch. Drive safe.
But then you immediately deleted the last part. Because how would you know he’s still out? 
Joel had cut the engine, getting out and walking around to meet you at your door, except you’d already opened it and stepped out yourself.
He gave you an unserious look that feigned offense. 
“Hey now,” he settled his hands on his hips, the sass evident in his voice. “We’re still on a date, miss. I’m supposed to get the door.” 
You knew he wasn’t really upset, but you found it funny pretending as if he was.
“Modern woman in a modern world, remember?” 
“Yeah,” he waved you off, shutting your door and taking your hand as you both walked up to the front door. “What all does that entail, anyhow? Bein’ a modern woman?”
You smiled, watching him take his damn time with the keys. He knew exactly what he was doing.
“Well, since achieving the vote, we’ve made quite a bit of ground. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re allowed to work with you guys, now.”
“Ah… how did I miss that?” 
“Weren’t looking hard enough. We also get to wear pants now, so I can see why you’re confused.” 
And once the door was open, he lazily slung an arm around you to let you inside. Ladies first and all that. He didn’t actually respond to your last comment until you were both in the entry hall, door closed. 
“Shame, I kinda like you without pants,” he hovered in close, partially teasing but otherwise just to get his body nearer to yours. The heat between you blossomed, and it could easily be sensed on both sides since leaving the truck. 
“Mister Joel Miller, don't you know the best part of a modern woman?” 
He raised his eyebrows, his head shaking once and eyes rolling over. Just say it already.
“We can ask any man we want to take our pants off.”
There was barely a second between your words and the speed of his lips meeting yours. It was different from the kisses at the drive in, now it was harsh and hungry. A stark contrast to the softness and the serenity. This was clouded by lust, by the human need to devour.
Joel was not gentle by nature. He was often brutish in his work and day to day. There were few people who genuinely saw him gentle. Sarah, Tommy, your dad, and you, his other side neighbors, and Carol, the lady who takes Sarah to school when he can’t. Maybe not in that exact order, but that was the list nonetheless.
You’d always seen him gentle, so the moment he backs you into the door, your back slamming on the painted wood, something stirs. You liked Joel how you knew him… but maybe there was other unexplored territory to delve into. 
“Joel,” you whined out on the end of a breath. His name falling from your mouth was always how he preferred to hear it, but under this context had to be his favorite.
“Baby,” he trailed his kisses to your cheek, then jaw, then neck, resting in the crook of your shoulder and seemingly finding a home there. Your hands dove through his hair, tugging ever so gently and feeling the vibrations on your skin as a repercussion. His hands never found a resting place, running up and down your sides, every few seconds reaching down for a feel of your ass. He seemed to like yours, too. 
When the arousal became too much, you tried your luck at rolling against him. The sound he made alone would have been enough for you to know how badly he wanted you, but the feel of him through his jeans was a physical show of it. He gets hard so fast for you. 
“Babygirl,” he breathed, pulling back but not away, his face still inches from your own. You could clearly see his blown pupils and focused expression. “Get upstairs.”
Though you wanted to tease him, wanted to quip back a quiet ‘or what?’, you needed him just as much, and you weren’t going to be told twice. 
He watched you from behind, taking the stairs two at a time until you reached the top. You nearly tripped over the last stair, but before you could go toppling over, his arm around your waist stopped you dead in your place. 
“So damn clumsy,” he shook his head, the edge of a smirk forming. He tapped your hip with his free hand, getting you to move forward again until you got to his door. “Can’t get in a truck, can’t climb stairs…”
Now that he’d teased you first, you felt you had a small bit of free reign to mess with him. He was still gonna have you, but why make things so boring? You stared at the handle, gripping it, but making no move to twist it and open the door. 
“Doorknob too much for you, too?”
You narrowed your eyes over your shoulder, where he was lingering closely. You could feel him pressed against your backside, the arousal evident in every breath he took, but he was still having fun with his little pokes of annoyance at you.
“I think I remember a rule about your room being off limits…” You trailed, cheekily smiling at him before he reached around you and opened the door himself. He held out his hand with a cocky raised brow, and waited for you to step in. 
“Ladies don’t always have to go first, y’know. S’all part of-”
“Bein’ a modern woman, I know.”
But still you went in first, taking a few steps backward until your knees hit the edge of the bed and caused you to sit. You tilted your head at him, still leaning in the doorway, his hand on the frame above his head and his other hand still steadily on his hip. What’s he waiting for?” 
“I ain’t gonna wait all night, cowboy…” 
He chuckled, shaking his head and slowly coming forward. For someone so eager, he was taking his sweet time. 
“You’re cute,” he gently pushed you back into the mattress, crawling one arm at a time over your form. “But something tells me that you would wait all night.”
He leaned down and met your lips with his, feeling your hands climb from the bed, to his shoulders, then to the sides of his face. He loved the feeling of your hands on him. Loved the way that with each pass of your skin against his, you began to learn the feeling of him as well. With one hand still supporting himself, his other raked down your side, then up over your middle, hugging the curves of your stomach, the stretch of your ribcage, and the gentle peaks of your breasts. He stopped there, paying mindful attention according to every sound you made, every groan of approval, or whimper of satisfaction. It was all he could hear, and became his instruction on how to touch you. 
You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him closer between them, trying to spur on the friction that would give you relief. Joel knew the signs of your arousal clearly by now, but there was still ground for him to cover. 
“Gettin’ so needy already, baby.”
His murmur against your mouth was interrupted. You whined at the loss of his lips, but were quieted in a moment when his hands trails downwards. He knelt one knee between your legs, the other still on the ground. He lifted behind your knees and gave a quick shove to drive you further up his mattress. His next move was to go for your shorts, given the fact they’d been causing him to mentally strain himself all evening. 
“Gotta get these damn things off,” he said.
They went flying to the floor, and then he had to stop a minute. With your knees raised, either side of his hips, he had the most ethereal view of your soaked underwear, a dark and increasingly wet stain against the soft blue cotton. When you noticed how long he’d stopped to enjoy the scenery, you grabbed his hand on your knee. 
“Joel, please-”
“I know, babygirl.”
And he didn’t make you beg for it. Not like the silly college boys would, and have in the past. He sunk down on the ground by his bed, leaning over on his elbows, hooking them under your legs again before pulling himself inward. He kissed over the wet fabric, hooking his fingers underneath it at your sides and slowly sliding them off. 
Your hands found his hair and your mouth parted in a shaking breath. The slow contact he made was like sweet torture. Your skin arose goosebumps under his touch, agonizingly slow and increasingly annoying, given your absolute need for him. 
“Need you… Joel I can’t- fuck.”
He kept it slow, but he licked upward, meeting your clit in devastating motions. You needed more, and as if he read your mind, his first finger was brought down and inserted to your seeping entrance. Your cries of approval met her ears like a happy melody, pushing him to go faster. 
You’d already been pushing the edge, just from him touching you… but now that the contact was area specific, you weren’t sure if you could take much more. The hard feeling of him pressed against your earlier had seeded a thought that you would not be satisfied until he was inside you, heavy and full. 
“Want more,” you tried to tell him, but he would not allow his feasting to be cut short. He’d made up his mind about the first time he would actually have sex with you. It wasn’t going to be rushed.
He shook his head, the sensation from the motion even more impacting. You took one hand away from his hair, fisting his sheets as tightly as you could. 
“Gotta work you a little,” he pulled back to say, adding another finger to the mix, feeling you tightly around him. He climbed back up your body, hand never leaving its place between your legs. “Relax for me, yeah?”
You did your best, taking a breath and keeping your eyes trained on his, but they soon fell to his mouth, lips licked clean and the very corners covered with you. It somehow flipped a switch in you that you weren’t sure was good or not. Joel was the first man to go down on you. Joel was the first man to kiss you without immediately putting his tongue in your mouth. Joel was the first man to be so invested in your relationship, that he asked you out on a date… after you messed around. It stands to reason that Joel may be the first man you genuinely fall in love with. Not puppy love like in high school. Not conditional love based on what he can get out of it. Actual love. 
You dawn on this realization quickly, still in the moment and feeling his every move, every grip of his hand or every curl of his fingers. It’s all so instant, and in your present state of mind. Like, every time he moves an inch, it somehow contributes to your relative thought. 
“Joel?” you look up at him with glassed over eyes. 
He pauses his movements below on account of how sincere you sound. 
“Yeah?”
It’s not I love you… not yet. It’s I know you, it’s going to be you.
You reach down between your bodies, his fingers still sheathed in yours, and palm him generously. Without losing eye contact, you undo his jeans, doing your best with one hand to maneuver the waistband of his boxers and pull him from his confinement. You aren’t looking yet… but you know from the feel of his sheer size alone, you’re in for the pain of your life. It bothered you last time, the thought that he may break you on his girth, that you may feel differently or resent him from how he feels… except you don’t feel that way anymore. Because of your aforementioned realization, you now feel that though this may hurt, it would not change your desire for him. He’s not a boy who’s hurting you to get off. He cares about you. 
Not just messin’ around…
“You’ve made me wait long enough,” you told him, the awestruck glaze in your eyes slowly fading as your smirk crawled over your face. You grabbed the hem of his shirt, allowing him to help you get it off. Seeing more of his skin, and feeling it against you when he settled back down was elating. It felt like the doorway to something, the hallway leading to reward. 
“Baby, you’re still tight, I don’t wan-”
“I’ll be okay, I promise.”
He sighed, trying to look anywhere but your eyes because dammit they were convincing. 
“I hurt you, you tell me. Promise that,” he looked at you sternly, and you can’t say you’ve ever seen him so serious like this alone with you. He almost seemed, for lack of a better word, scared. Like you were a flower petal he was afraid to touch for the fear it would fall from the blossom. 
“Promise.”
He nodded, smiling weakly, still unsure but willing to let you lead him blindly. 
He picked you up and put you down on the proper region of the bed, your head meeting the pillows behind you. You giggled at his rapid motions to strip you of your shirt and bra next, his pent up anticipation now getting the better of him. He’d kicked off the last of his remaining clothing, looking back to you, sprawled out on his bed, waiting patiently for him. 
“If we’re gonna do this, we’re doin’ it right,” he joked, crawling back over you. 
He nuzzled his nose against yours, then leaned down to collect a kiss. The kiss met your lips but then parted and moved to your neck, then shoulders, licking the sweet spot in the crook between them. He traveled down your chest, his kisses never stopping, although his hands paid special attention to each peak of raised flesh. 
Your noises fell on grateful ears, the appreciation for them showing in every eager kiss, every soft grope of your skin. When he reached your lower region, he kissed both thighs apart, lifting one at a time and making sure they were set aside his hips comfortably. Once done, he kissed his way back up. Tentative, and slow. Joel is often strong and silent, and in this instance, it showed immensely. The way he can easily move parts of you around without hassle, and do so without uttering a word. It was dangerously addicting, how he already knew your body so intimately after only a few experiences. 
Once his lips again found yours it lasted, and lasted. The feeling of him right against you was breathtaking. No barriers, no clothing, no promises of ‘another time’ between you.
“You let me know, alright?” 
You nodded, his voice had become gentler from his first worrisome words minutes ago. 
He kept his eyes on you, trying to gauge your reaction moment by moment. You wrapped an arm over his shoulder, holding the hairs at the back of his neck to ground yourself. He lined himself up to you and ever so slowly began to push in, holding himself after the first sharp intake of breath through your nose. 
“M’okay,” you said assuringly, the sensation dulling slightly when you focused solely on him and not his actions. 
He went further, and deeper, slower than sludge but making sure you could feel every inch comfortably before moving again. You twirled his hair between your fingers, the other hand digging nails into his side. His face, eyes still focused on your expression, was becoming the product of bliss. This entire exchange, the build up, the stretching pain, and the way your lungs couldn’t seem to exhale, was all worth it… just to see this look on his face. The way he was having to fight himself to stay in the moment and not get lost in the euphoria, it was the most beautiful you’d ever seen him. When he was dazed and confused just by feeling you around him. 
“You gotta breathe, baby,” he let out, trying to keep your comfort in the forefront of his mind. He took a deep inhale of his own, and when he felt you following his steady pattern he was able to relax a little more, just like you did. “Atta girl, just like that… keep doin’ that.”
He started to move, a single thrust once he could be sure that there wasn’t any stiff pain. The only sting left over was fading, the slow and measured pace he set was becoming like a lifeline. Comparable to a heartbeat. In and out, in and out, the feeling becomes more pleasurable and addictive. You need a heartbeat to live, and in this moment, you need Joel to live, his easy and gentle pace. 
“S’good,” you murmured, your eyes fluttering closed and his head dropping to your neck again. “Feels so deep.”
Joel bit down on your skin, tethering himself. The praise was something he wasn’t quite used to. He’s self deprecating to a fault, but hearing the opposite from your lips, which he adores, makes him feel stronger somehow. Keeping a tether is all he can do to keep from rutting against you. He wants so badly for you to be different, to not end up just a one night stand or a friend with benefits. He wants you to feel how much he cares about you, wants to take care of you. 
“Doin’ so good, baby,” he whispered, your neck absorbing most of the sound. “Taking me, so tight.”
Your muscles started contracting the moment he sped up his rhythm, only one thrust that was different from the rest. It hit you so fast, the coil in your stomach, building up and aching for relief. 
“Joel… shit,” You could barely even get your words out, interrupted by a whimper of white hot euphoria. “I’m gonna…”
“I know,” he growled, his desire to rut into you slowly fading as he increased his pace to meet that carnal need. “I feel you, baby. Give it to me.”
It built only a little more, but then you couldn’t take it. It was too much, too full. The tightness in your stomach burst, letting go of every tense muscle in your body. It was so intense you practically screamed for him, his name a repetitive mantra on your tongue. Joel. Your hips jolted and writhed around, the feeling increasing with every hit against your cervix. Joel. Your walls tightened even more around him, the sting only slightly returning but in a way that made you crave it. Joel. He came right after you, unable to even try pulling out, just for how tightly you held him in. Joel…
He dropped half his weight, pulling away from your neck to kiss your lips. He needed to. It didn’t feel right to stay hidden in your neck when he had such gratification for you right now. The way you made him feel was no simple thing, and he felt you needed to be thanked for that. If a kiss was all he could give you in the moment, then so be it.
Joel…
“I’m sorry,” he let out, leaving his forehead against yours. 
“For what?” 
“I came in you… I didn’t ask,” he furrowed his brows, hoping you wouldn’t begrudge him too badly. He’d say he got lucky when you pulled him back down for another kiss. 
“It’s okay… wanted you to,” you were still coming down from your high, possibly the most intense feeling you’ve ever experienced. He smiled and kissed you again, and again. He shifted the way you both laid, on his side, and brought you close to his chest. 
When your breathing went back to normal, you spoke again. 
“I was scared, y’know.”
He looked closely at you, unsure of what you meant and why. 
“I thought you might hurt me. I didn’t care if you did, but I still thought you might,” you told him, running your fingers in circles over his skin. Though you seemed in bliss, perfectly happy, he couldn’t help but be frightened that maybe you weren’t telling him.
“Did I? Hurt you?” 
“No.” you shook your head, holding a smile and making sure he saw it was genuine. “You didn’t hurt me, it was good. Really good. No other guy has ever…” 
He again was confused by the trail of your voice… no guy has ever…? Oh, shit.
“No other guy’s made you come before?” 
The embarrassed blush on your cheeks told him all he needed to know. You weren’t sure why it was so awkward to let him find that out, but you suddenly felt like you were more of a child, having not experienced things that he has for years before. 
“No one before you… and you’ve already got four on the board,” you laughed, trying to make it feel like it wasn’t as big a deal. Like it was funny. 
He narrowed his eyes, raising his head up to look at you closer. 
“Ranger’s night, last week, tonight… that’s three,” he corrected, counting out on three fingers and holding them up. 
“You technically weren’t there the other time,” you smirked, giggling once he looked at you with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. 
“Should’ve called me,” he kissed the tip of your nose, your smile still prominent and growing. “I love hearing you.” 
Over his shoulder you heard his phone buzzing, once, twice, then three times. He huffed, hoping it wasn’t from someone at the work site that wasn’t able to lock up the property after reviewing. 
“Hold on,” he rolled his eyes, turning just far enough to reach his jeans on the ground, pulling his phone from the pocket. He squinted against the harsh light, swiping through the message notifications that appeared when he unlocked the screen. He laughed, turning to you. “S’ your dad.”
“It’s late, I would have thought he was either drunk or asleep by now.”
“Apparently neither,” he slid his phone back on the nightstand, regaining you in his arms. “Wants to know if I’m still awake for a drink.”
You laughed, “Oh, really?” 
“Yeah. Not sure if you’ve heard but, you’re actually at a friend’s house till tomorrow.” 
“How fun for me… so that means a guy’s night for you and my dad?” You played along with him, the sweet tone in your voice turning teasing.
“It would… too bad I’m already asleep.” He reasoned, which is probably what he would repeat to your dad tomorrow if asked. 
“Damn, you old men go to bed early.”
“Hey now… let’s not go crazy.”
-
tags: @justanothersadperson93@moonchild-warrior@hopplessilse @brittmd115 @michilandcof@untamedheart81@just-someone-broken@joelalorian@xybil @yvonneeeee @anoverwhelmingdin@theatrelove3000
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casuallyimagining · 3 months ago
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refuge | xmh
xu minghao x reader
"they're so loud." genre: fluff | wc: 592 | warnings: none
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For the briefest of moments, the sound of laughter and old friends reminiscing bubbles up and punctures your quiet little hideaway outside. It’s a little chilly–autumn finally has the early October nights in its clutches–but you managed to turn on the small fire table before settling into a corner of the wicker sofa with your book. The noise dies down with the sound of the patio door sliding shut, and it takes only a moment more for the cause to appear.
Minghao leans down, presses a kiss into your hair, and hums at the warmth that the fire table gives off. “You’re quite cozy out here,” he notes, settling down into the space beside you. “I brought you some tea.”
You take the offered cup gratefully, setting your book down spine-up in your lap. “You lasted far longer in there than I expected.”
“They’re so loud,” he whines, a pained look crossing his face. 
“You love them.”
Just then, as if to punctuate his point, you can hear shouting from inside. Vaguely, you can make out Seungkwan’s voice. Hao looks at you flatly, as if to say ‘see?’
You bat at his chest playfully and you both laugh. It fades to quiet after a moment, and the silence of the night envelops you again. You pick your book back up and lean forward to set your mug on the edge of the fire table before cozying back into the sofa. Hao moves over, almost imperceptibly, but you can feel his body pressing into your side, and you wrap an arm around his shoulders to draw him closer.
Beside you, you can feel Minghao relax, his breathing evening out as he drifts into his thoughts. You let your focus fall back into your book, and for a while, you sit there together, completely at peace.
“We should get one of these for the balcony.” Hao’s voice is soft, and when you look up, he’s staring into the fire.
“Add it to the list.”
And he smiles. A soft, shy little thing that he tries to hide behind his cup of tea. The two of you have been half-joking about moving in together for months. It’s not the right time for either of you–he’s busy and your lease is nowhere near up–but the promise of more keeps you going.
The noise bubbles up again as the door opens, and Soonyoung’s voice punches out into the night. “Minghao! Come back inside and play with us! Vernon went to sleep and we need even teams.”
Hao shoots you a pointed look. “Loud,” he repeats, just loud enough for you to hear. 
You giggle. “Go in and spend time with your friends.” You kiss him quickly, his soft lips moulding against yours for the briefest of moments. “I’ll be in soon. I just want to finish this chapter.”
“Minghao!” Soonyoung yells again, and even without looking at him, you can tell he’s taken a step outside toward the two of you.
Hao rolls his eyes and kisses you quickly before standing. He takes his teacup with him. “I will give you 5 million won to forget my name,” he tells Soonyoung, and the older man giggles like a deranged toddler. 
The ghost of a smile graces your lips as you watch your partner disappear into the house. The night once again goes silent. You know he’s not always up for the raucous energy of his 12 chaotic brothers, but you’re always happy to be here when it gets too much. You’ll never tire of being his refuge.
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minghao has really dug himself into the soft spot in my heart recently. I love him a whole lot, and I need more minghao content in my life. if you've got any recs, send them my way, but in the meantime, let me know what you thought of this, maybe?
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logansdoll · 3 months ago
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ivy, l. howlett (3)
you and Scott go after Rogue and Wolverine... but when you return, a familiar face shows up on your doorstep.
CW: canon typical violence, gore, guns, mutation, profanity, innuendos, mature themes, mentions of sex, y/n is very poison ivy-esque, jean grey exists but is not present, etc.
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"You look around. I'll check the ticket agent," you told Scott, heading toward the booth.
He gave you a stiff nod, quietly glancing around for any sign of Magneto's disciples.
It didn't come as a surprise when Rogue ran away the next day—and it came as an even less of one when Logan went off after her, despite the professor's instructions.
So you and Scott set off to Grand Central Station in search of the two before they could be taken hostage.
Of course, Scott was less than happy to be there.
Just another mess of Logan's for him to clean up...
'Big baby...'
You were quick to explain the situation once you finally made it to the front of the line.
"I'm sorry to bother you, sir, but I need to know if you've seen a young girl pass through here?" you asked, sincerely. 
You just wanted Rogue to be safe.
Scott could get pissy about Logan stealing his bike or going against direction, but at the end of the day she was the priority.
And you weren't going to stop until you found her.
Lord knows you were just like her about ten years ago.
"She's about seventeen. Uh, my height. Has brown hair, and she—"
A loud growl suddenly rumbled from behind, and you turned around, only to be grabbed by the neck and hoisted up by a huge, hairy, blonde man whose nails needed serious trimming.
"Sabretooth... I take it?" you rasped, your hands coming up to grab at his in an attempt to pull him off.
But he let out a roar, roughly pulling you closer, his hot breath fanning over your face.
"Scream for me," he snarled.
Looking past him, you saw Scott storming over, about to help, when a yellow skinned man hanging off the ceiling suddenly stuck out his long tongue, whipping Scott's glasses of his face and forcing him to burn a gigantic hole into the roof.
Using the seeds in your pocket, you shot out a gigantic stalk of bamboo, ramming him through a wall and into the next room, sending rubble flying everywhere.
Dropping to the ground, you let out a gasp of relief, clutching your throat.
'This is day two... I get choked again... someone's dying.'
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"You said he wanted me," Logan glared, aggressively grabbing his jacket.
"I made a terrible mistake," Xavier admitted, thoroughly disappointed in himself. "His helmet was somehow designed to block my telepathy. I couldn't see what he was after until it was too late."
Face taut, Logan stormed toward the exit of his room, shoving his arm through the sleeve.
"Where are you going?" you asked, brows furrowed.
"I'm gonna find her."
"How?" Xavier turned to him.
"The traditional way: look," he spat, striding out the the door.
Quickly, you turned to the professor, and he gave you a nod of approval, already aware of your question.
Though, if you were being honest, you would've done it anyway.
"Logan," you called, following him out the hall and down the steps. "You can't do this alone."
"Who's gonna help me? You?" he scoffed, eyes focused ahead as he started toward the exit. "So far you've all done a bang-up job."
"Then help us. Fight with us," you pressed on, closing in on him.
Suddenly, he stopped, turning around so fast you nearly crashed into his chest.
"Fight with you?" he growled, voice low and face only a few inches from yours. "What, join the team? Be an X-man?"
You stood firm despite his mockery, eyes searching his for what he truly felt.
Yet all you found was pain, guilt, and self-loathing.
He blamed himself for Rogue's kidnapping, and was lashing out from a place of hurt.
So you wouldn't take it personal.
"Who the hell do you think you are? You're a mutant. The whole world out there is full of people that hate and fear you. And you're wasting your time tryna protect them," he shook his head. "I got better things to do."
He walked off again, but suddenly stopped, turning to face you once more.
"Y'know, Magneto's right. There's a war coming," he stated. "Are you sure you're on the right side?"
"At least I've chosen a side."
The words slightly stung, and he gave you a look as he opened the door, only to be met by Senator Kelly.
The driving force of the Mutant Registration Program.
Only now he looked like shit, sweaty and clammy and out of breath.
"I'm looking... for Dr. (y/n) (l/n)," he panted, weakly.
Suddenly, his legs gave out, and he fell forward into Logan's arms, unconscious.
"Bring him to my lab. Quick," you ordered, turning around and heading for the lower levels.
'Never a dull moment...'
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"Senator Kelly," Xavier started, leaning a little closer, "I'm Professor Charles Xavier."
The senator was laying on your operating table, hooked up to several machines in order to keep his condition stable.
Though it was truly anything but that.
"I was afraid if I went to a hospital, they would—" "Treat you like a mutant?"
The professor shook his head, reassuringly.
"We're not all what you think... not all of us."
"Tell it to the ones who did this to me."
Xavier sighed, wheeling his chair around to the tip of the table, where Kelly's head rested.
"Senator," the professor rested his hands against the man's temples. "I want you to relax. I'm not going to hurt you."
He took a moment, sifting through Kelly's memories to find out exactly what happened.
And when he did, it was evident on Charles's face that it did not bode well.
Quickly, he turned around, Logan following him down the hall where Scott and Ororo waited, while you stayed with the senator.
In the meeting...
"The machine emits radiation that triggers mutation in ordinary human beings," he started, the news thoroughly worrying him. "But the mutation is unnatural. (y/n)'s already deduced Kelly's body is rejecting it. His cells show signs of significant degeneration."
"What effect does radiation have on mutants?" Scott asked, turning to the professor.
"There appears to be none. But I fear it will seriously harm any normal person exposed to it," he answered.
"So what does Magneto want with Rogue?" Logan chimed from his spot against the wall.
Xavier hung his head, "I don't know."
That was all he needed to hear.
Logan didn't give a shit about some senator—Kelly made it abundantly clear he didn't give a shit about mutants—so he wasn't gonna sit around and play doctor for him.
One less human to worry about.
"Wait a second," Scott realized. "You said this machine draws energy from Magneto, and that it weakened him."
"Yes," the professor confirmed, slowly beginning to realize. "In fact, it nearly killed him."
Wait a minute...
'Oh, shit.'
"He's gonna transfer his power to Rogue, and use her to power the machine."
In the lab...
"Is somebody there?" Senator Kelly rasped, his hand weakly reaching out toward the darkness.
"Yes," you answered, quickly heading over. "I'm here."
The moment you arrived at his bedside, his cold, clammy hand grabbed your arm, frantically.
"Please don't leave me," he heaved, pleadingly. "Don't wanna be alone."
You looked down at him, eyes saddened by his sorry state.
His veins were dark and bulging painfully against his skin, and he was covered in an ungodly amount of sweat.
Or, at least, what you thought to be sweat.
Though you were quickly starting to realize that he was liquefying right before your eyes.
"All right," you nodded, softly.
Water was leaving him at a steady trickle, and you knew he had only a few minutes, if not moments, left to live.
"Do you hate normal people?" he suddenly asked, voice distant.
And for a man on his deathbed, you answered honestly.
"Sometimes..."
"Why?"
Now that took a little more thought.
"I guess... I'm afraid of them."
He smiled, reassuringly, "Well... I think you have one... less person to be afraid of."
And before you could respond, he gasped, suddenly choking on his own throat as it began to turn into water.
Your eyes shot wide, and you looked down at his hand, only to liquidize right in your grasp, splashing water everywhere.
Snapping your head back to him, you watched as the rest of his organs and bodily fluids devolved into water, until it all finally burst, leaving nothing of him to remain.
'Professor! Now!'
Quickly, you turned around, sprinting out the door and down the hall toward where they were having their meeting.
Once you made it to the door, you barged in, interrupting a Logan-Scott argument.
"Senator Kelly is dead," you stated, seriously.
"I am going to find her," Xavier turned to the rest of you, face taut.
All bets were off now—there was no holding back.
"Let's settle this."
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huggywuggysuppy · 13 days ago
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Has Pearl Really Betrayed Gem?
Inspired by (this) recent transcript of Pearl talking about siding with Scar in SL and not believing she betrayed Gem at all.
It's interesting how Pearl always saw Murder Camel as a fun but temporary thing -- it was never a real alliance to her -- while EVERYONE ELSE clearly thought it meant something more. We're talking the Mounders discussing moving in with Gem & the Scotts level serious. Gem /definitely/ thought it was something more. Even in WL Scott was like "and you were like three steps away from betraying us and being your own thing with Pearl" (also him stressing that "no matter your other alliances, THIS is the top one" in SL). There's definitely something unequal here. And why is that?
Gem murdered Pearl. Like, twice. The second time while Pearl was actively BEGGING her to stop. For that red task to hit until she blocked with a shield.
So of course Pearl didn't see it as a real alliance. Both times she joined Gem were after Gem killed her! And to the other players who are veterans and used to self-sacrifice and murder, it's not that big a deal. But Pearl very rarely sacrifices herself -- off the top of my head she's only given lives to BigB back in Limited, which was much lower-stakes -- and definitely not by force. Pearl never really chose to ally with her. Working with Gem in the final session was almost entirely tactical: it was just a bonus that they got along.
And Gem? Gem doesn't notice. As far as she knows, sacrifice is not only normal but expected of a strong alliance. Thanks to Scott's immense self-sacrifice issues and Impulse's "yes and" tactical mind, she's literally responsible for two deaths apiece on her allies. Why wouldn't she lump Pearl in with that, who she's also taken two lives from? (Whew, does Gem murder a lot of people. love her). When she'd turned Pearl red, Pearl was angry and hurt, but Gem apologized. "I can't believe you still wanna be friends with me after this." Gem had said, and Pearl replied, "I can't believe it either. But I guess here we are."
That's why it's such a betrayal at the end. Gem thought they were okay. Scar's been public enemy #1 for so long, Pearl literally chose him as her target when she turned zombie. Meanwhile, Gem and Pearl have been working together for the past 2-3 sessions (plus or minus a couple times Gem murdered her). Pearl should've turned on Scar.
And that leads us to now. Gem, who was betrayed because she thought she was safe and Pearl was cool with it and was her ally. When the server thought they were so close they would team up together. When really, Pearl had never thought the same, because why should she? Gem had only ever hurt her and her allies. No, Pearl's only crime was not communicating clearly enough and denouncing Gem entirely. But against the whole server, the fandom's gaze too, all insisting Gem and her were in Life, for Life?
5 AM Pearl has a lot to work with.
Thank you so much for reading! I, too, fell into the trap and accused them both of betrayal. But I was blinded by wanting Shinyduo to stay together! I should never doubt you, Pearlescentmoon. Never let us sway you from your path.
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satyricplotter · 5 months ago
Text
(suggestive, slightly explicit content at the end)
Even though you’ve been expecting the visit for most of the night, the Red Hood knocking at your balcony door at 1 in the morning still catches you off guard. You scramble off the couch in a sleepy daze, book falling off your lap and cracking open on the floor. For one long second, the only thing you can think of is that whoever your last assignment was has managed to find you, that you’ve finally been too sloppy and left a trail with which to track you.
That’s your first thought. Your second thought is, of course, Barbara. But before you can reach your phone to shoot your boss a SOS, or, at the very least, an alert, a second rasp at the window panes freezes you on the spot.
“Will you open the damn door?” Red Hood’s unmistakably robotic voice grits out. “It’s raining cats and dogs out here.”
You trip in your rush to open the doors, limbs loose and clumsy with relief. Hood shoulders past you with a grunt, fingers prodding at the back of his head to get at the latch of his helmet. He takes it off in a smooth motion, his hot breath forming a white cloud against the cold air of your running AC. You lock the balcony back up after him as he goes around your apartment, setting his helmet on your dinner table and shrugging out of his jacket. He means to stay apparently. You could’ve lent him an umbrella if he wanted to go back out there. Probably would’ve been best.
See, you don’t like the Red Hood much.
He invites himself over to your kitchen, opening cabinets here and there until he chances upon the dinnerware and pulls out a glass. The Gotham public infrastructure is in such state you have never once attempted to drink out of the tap, but you don’t stop him when he does. It is, technically, allowed. And he had the pitcher full of filtered water right under his nose, so. You wait impatiently as he downs two whole glasses of tap water and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand (there is a perfectly usable kitchen towel draped over the oven handle).
He glances over, notices you staring. The corner of his lips quirks up. “How obedient,” he mocks. He pats at his sides, pulls a folded envelope from somewhere in his body (the Bats have endless pockets, you’ve come to learn) and tosses it on the table. “There’s your file. You better be fucking thankful. Traipsed through half the city in this shit storm just to get you these.”
“Thank you, Red Hood,” you say politely, picking up the rumpled envelope and eagerly flipping through the files. “Much appreciated.”
Red Hood rolls his eyes at you, eternally put off by your insistence on following the proper channels of conduct. “Whatever. You got anything to eat?”
“Help yourself,” you tell him.
You walk back to the couch with the file in hand and leave him to make himself whatever he will, already too distracted by the information within to care that you’re gonna have to make a second grocery run when he’s done with your fridge. Red Hood rummages through your cabinets, pulling out far more stuff than he should for a midnight snack. At one point, he asks if you’ve had dinner, and you respond him with an absentminded (and truthful) negative. The files he’s brought are the latest Robin’s swiped from the team’s ongoing investigation on a dicey arms exchange deal that may or may not involve three out of four of Gotham’s biggest conglomerates (sans, of course, Wayne Enterprises). It’s your job to process the info—a task too menial and too tedious for Oracle and Red Robin, respectively, to handle. Besides, Tim’s far more useful on the ground.
It must be about twenty minutes of you pouring over the pages scattered over your coffee table when the man speaks up again. “Dinner’s ready,” he says.
You look up to see him setting two plates of steaming stir fry on the table. He’s taken off his gloves, his utility belt, the domino mask and rolled up his sleeves—the whole nine yards. Only missing the apron. The food looks lovely, but of course it does. Cooking is listed as a specialty in Red Hood’s file, right along with marksmanship and hostile takeovers.
Your lips quirk up at the unexpected kindness, but you shake your head. “None for me, thanks.”
“I said,” Red Hood says, placing his gun on the table menacingly. “Dinner’s ready. Come eat.”
Well. So much for kindness. You’re about as dumb as Red Hood’s subtle, which is to say only at your benefit and very much at will, so you only sigh and push the papers aside. He watches you rise and sit, and pick up the fork, before he does the same. You eat in silence.
After a few bites, you stop being disgruntled at his coercion and grateful that he’s got something other than a protein bar in you because you were, in fact, quite hungry. That’s not something you can say—or at least not in any way which he would accept, so you just shut up and eat your meal happily. That seems to be enough for him, as he watches you finish the whole plate with a satisfied expression.
“Good?” He asks.
“Yeah, actually,” you beam.
Even when he stands and brings the dishes over to the sink to wash, you are reluctant to leave your spot at the table. You watch him rinse and sponge the plates and pan, the knife and spoon and cutting board, and your afternoon tea mug. He washes his hands thoroughly and rinses his mouth with the dubious tap water again. A thorough, judicious man. He’s played remarkably nice this evening. You wonder if Oracle’s been pulling his ear to leave you alone.
When he finishes, he walks slowly the remainder of the narrow hallway of your kitchen back to the dinner table and leans against the threshold. The long line of his body catches you off guard, always so unexpectedly graceful despite his musculature, his brutality. You hold his gaze serenely, trying not to cave under his scrutiny.
This is why you don’t like the Red Hood. Every time he looks at you, he sees you wholly. As you are. Not, crucially, as you want. It has been this way since the first time he laid eyes on you—a single glance and he had taken the measure of you. No further explanation, no time to make amends. And what’s worse: he expects you to be honest. He expects you to say what he can read in your face. He doesn’t let it go when you deflect, when you coat your truths in niceties. He wants it raw and open.
You can’t play dumb with Jason Todd.
He breaks the silence first. “Were you expecting Grayson this evening?”
The non-sequitur catches you so off guard you break eye contact accidentally. What’s Nightwing got to do with anything?
“No?” You say, evidently baffled. “Nightwing’s been off-world all week. Why would he be coming around?”
He cocks his head to the side, sucks in the bit of flesh below his lower lip. "So you knew it was me who'd be coming around?"
"Obviously?" What is he going on about? He clearly doesn't believe you, either. It's childish when you stomp your foot and whine, but he always brings out the worst in you. "I'm serious, Hood. I've been waiting for you all evening. Just you."
Jason pushes off the wall and approaches, staring you down with slightly raised eyebrows. “Then, if you knew Dick wasn't coming with, what are you looking so fuckable for?”
Despite how much it bruises your pride, you cannot help but sputter. The staring is one thing, the passing brushes are another—even the stupid pulling at your pigtails like you’re both in kindergarten is… permissible. But this? Coming at you so straightforwardly when all you know how to do is circumvent and hide? Desperately, you respond to the one thing in that sentence you can make sense of: the accusation.
“I don’t like Nightwing,” you whine. Jason fixes you with a look of dry incredulity. You huff. How you despise him. He can’t even let you lie. “And I don’t dress for him either.”
“Hm.” He reaches over to pull at the neckline of your admittedly skimpy top, his knuckle brushing against your chest. “Sure.”
You bat his hand away, and stand up, but that leaves you much closer to him than you expected. Or wanted. “This is not fuckable,” you grit out. “This is… pajamas.”
Jason cranes his neck to take a close look at you, every bit as assessing as the first one had been. One of his large hands comes to play with the hem of your shorts, pushes it up just a smidge, and the pads of his fingers are rough and calloused against your outer thigh. Your eyelids flutter, and he has the nerve to smile.
“That’s a blatant lie, you know,” he says, dipping his head low so the words brush against your lips. “Try a little, huh?”
“This seems like a you problem, my guy,” you snap, so close you might as well be speaking into his mouth. You need to get away. You don’t.
Jason’s smug when you gasp after his hands close around your ass and bring you forward, flush against his body. The hardness in his pants trapped between you, a pressing weight just below where it should be. Should be? What are you—but Jason adjusts before you can scold yourself, lining up your crotch with his and grinding. It feels bigger this way, which is insane because it's already pretty fucking huge, and a hot flash of desire runs through you lightning-quick and just as obliterating. You slump against him, head on his shoulder.
“That’s my problem,” he murmurs against your ear. His thumbs press just under your asscheeks, playful. “You gon’ do anything about it?”
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