#we’re two peas in a pod | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sturnioz · 9 months ago

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‘THIS IS (NOT) EASY’ — MATTHEW STURNIOLO

pairing. matthew sturniolo x fem!reader genre. smut, fluff, angst

word count. 13.7k

❝being in this friends with benefits relationship with you was not as easy as i thought it would be...❞

content warnings. friends with benefits au, crack humour, explicit content, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, squirting, p in v, unprotected sex (creampies), big dick matt, doggy position, alcohol consumption and mentions of weed, flirty!chris,

—authors note. i've actually written this before but for a different person on another blog. so if you happen to stumble across that somehow and notice the similarities, its me lol. i just liked the plot so much and i wanted to use it for matt.

“Wait, you what?!”

You gasp out loud, not caring about the loudness of your tone, voice piercing throughout the library alongside the squeaking legs of your chair across the wooden flooring as you abruptly straight up in your seat.

Other students with their heads shoved in books and laptop screens peek over in curiosity while one irritated classmate leans over the table to shush you angrily, warning you about the volume of your voice but you pay them no mind, gaze fixed on Matt who sits across from you sheepishly.

Matthew Sturniolo—one of the heartthrobs on campus, the quiet and mysterious type that turns curious heads, and undoubtedly the kindest guy in class has been your best friend for the past few years. You met during a practice hockey game where fourteen-year-old Matt had tried to score a goal to impress his brothers and newfound friends, only for the hockey puck to come flying over the glass barrier, hurling straight towards your face and leaving you with a swollen eyeball and a busted up nose.

Matt was unbelievably apologetic, going to extreme lengths by buying candies and ripping up flowers from potted plants to give to you whenever you both crossed paths, begging for your forgiveness over and over again desperately until you socked him in the face, giving him a hefty nosebleed and a bruised cheek in return.

A toothy grin spread across your cheeks and you finally had accepted the gifts out of his hands, a happy ‘now we’re even!’ leaving your lips as you had ripped open the candies, offering him a treat, offering him your friendship.

The two of you became inseparable and if someone saw one of you, they knew that the other would be trailing along behind them. You were two peas in a pod—the dynamic duo. You were so joined at the hip that when you both enrolled for college, you tried signing up for a dorm on campus, wanting and hoping to be roommates.

It didn’t happen.

Matt ended up rooming with one of his friends, Tyler, while you got stuck with some girl you didn’t even know but had become acquainted with over a short period of time.

Still, you and Matt never strayed far from each other even with your roommates in the picture. He sleeps over at your place every now and then, and vice versa. You’re certain that he’s even claimed a whole drawer in your dresser, filled with his spare shirts, sweatpants and underwear.

A lot of your mutual friends, including his brothers, found it suspicious how you two could be so close without anything going on between you both, complaining how the two of you can’t be just friends. It was partially the truth.

You are not just friends, you’re best friends.

“I’m just saying, that you’re complaining about not hooking up with someone for a few days while I haven’t slept with someone for, like, a month,” Matt repeats to you with flushed cheeks, adjusting the black cap on his head with one hand while the other skilfully twirls a pen around his fingers, “Times are hard, kid. I got assignments up to my ass—”

“There’s no way you haven’t hooked up with someone lately,” You hiss through gritted teeth, refusing to believe a word that comes out of his mouth when he’s talking about such nonsense.

A nearby student from the table next to yours shifts around in their seat in annoyance to look at you, pressing their finger aggressively against their lips to tell you to quiet down and you scoff in response, throwing them the middle finger with your own irritancy and annoyance.

“Can you not?” Matt scolds as his hand firmly wraps around your own, squeezing in warning as he guides it back down to the table. He offers an apologetic smile to the student, and as always, it works like a charm as they shyly smile back and resume their work. Another scoff leaves your lips and Matt turns his attention back to you. “I’m telling you the truth, you know.”

“Bullshit,” You murmur, sending him a glare. “That girl from my study group was over at your dorm last weekend—I saw her Snapchat stories.”

“Dude, we’re both in the same study group. She came over for some of my notes and ended up staying longer because Tyler offered her an ounce of his ‘premium weed’,” Matt explains, adding a sarcastic emphasis around the word ‘premium weed’ which has you snorting, knowing that there was nothing premium about Tyler’s stash. “She eventually ended up staying over and hooking up with Chris anyways.”

Your face contorts into a look of confusion at that, “What? Chris? He isn’t even your roommate.”

“I know. Tyler’s sheets are still in the dryer,” Matt grimaces. “But Nick has had this ‘sex-free’ policy on his and Chris’ dorm ever since that guy screwed him over last weekend.”

“Oh…” You pause, amused at Nick’s new policy, but then the realisation finally hits you. “So that’s why Tyler didn’t have any sheets on his bed when I came over on Monday.”

“Y—wait, you came over Monday?” Matt snaps his head towards you, eyes narrowing as he jabs his pen in your direction. “Did you fuck in my bed?!”

“No. Of course not,” You gasp, deeply offended by his accusation and Matt lets out a sigh of relief, relaxing his shoulders as he leans back into his chair. “We actually fucked on the couch—”

“Are you fucking kidding me—”

“That’s besides the point!” You cut him off before he can grill you, silencing him by raising your hand in front of his face when he tries to retaliate again. “The fact remains, Matt, is that you haven’t fucked anyone in a whole month. And that’s like… I don’t know, it’s like blasphemy!”

Matt deadpans, his expression devoid of amusement. “I’m pretty sure that’s not blasphemy.”

“Whatever. You know what I mean,” You dismiss, shoving your books and pens as far away from you as you possibly could, no longer interested in studying the endless amount of words on that page now that you’ve discovered your best friend hasn't hooked up with anyone in so long. You sit comfortably in your chair as you fully give him your attention, tucking your legs beneath you. “I can’t believe it…”

“You’re telling me,” Matt huffs, deciding to set aside his own studies too. He rubs his face in frustration, groaning beneath his palms. You console him with a frown, reaching out to rub his shoulder in sympathy. Matt’s hands drop to his lap, and he shoots you a glare, “I can’t believe you didn’t believe me. Why would I lie about something like that?!”

You’re quick to defend yourself, “You fuck more than I do. Of course I'm not gonna believe a word you say when you tell me something like that!”

And it’s true, Matt does have a higher number of sexual encounters compared to you. His boyish charm and adorable face doesn’t hide the fact that his body count is probably in the twenties, and that his online bank statements are likely to reveal the frequent purchases of packs of condoms (and maybe a few Plan B pills for extra precaution). Matt has always been cautious and responsible, which doesn’t surprise you. He’s not one to take unnecessary risks or potentially impregnate someone, especially a stranger.

“You didn’t have to say it out loud like that…” Matt mutters under his breath, cheeks dusting a slight shade of pink as another student turns around in their seat to glare at the pair of you, but her eyes widen comically as she sees Matt. Shyly, she tucks her hair behind her ears with a kind smile that Matt reciprocates. You lean back in your seat with a roll of your eyes just as Matt brings his attention back to you, “Are we done with this conversation? I’d rather talk about something more interesting than my nonexistent sex life.”

“Fine,” You relent. “Are you going to Nate’s later?”

“No, kid’s got some important hockey meeting or something, so we’re hanging another time,” Matt sighs softly, removing his cap to run his fingers through his hair before readjusting it. “Would you be cool if I came over yours?”

“Sure,” You grin, already shoving your belongings into your bag, eager to leave the library as soon as possible. Matt’s lip curls up in amusement as he follows in suit, packing his own things into his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder.

As you glance over, you notice the girl still staring at Matt and a mischievous smirk forms on your face as you slam your hand on the desk in front of her, capturing her attention.

You jab your thumb in Matt’s direction and you teasingly offer, “If you want his number. I can give it to you. He’s been stuck in a dry spell recently, so—”

Before you can finish your sentence, Matt’s fingers curl around your elbow, yanking you away from the bewildered girl with a huff, “Move.”

“I’ve been thinking about something…” You break the comfortable silence between you both after a few hours of binge-watching a series and indulging in takeout, dropping your pizza crust into the cardboard box and pushing it aside. Matt sits beside you on the couch, his own pizza in hand, gaze fixed on the TV screen, listening to what the characters are saying.

Matt glances at you with a quick, pointed look as he chews, “That doesn’t sound good.”

“Wow. Funny.” You deadpan with a roll of your eyes and he chuckles under his breath, turning his attention back to the TV screen. “Anyway, and hear me out before you say some dumb shit. I’ve been thinking about something that relates to that little problem we both have, and I may have come up with a way to fix it.”

“Why are you still hung up on this?” Matt complains between mouthfuls. “I don’t want to be constantly reminded that I’m not having sex—”

You quickly raise your hand to hush him and he goes cross eyed to stare at your palm in confusion. “I said hear me out.”

“Fine.”

“Great!“ You exclaim with a grin, “Okay, so, you and I are the best of friends, right? We always help each other out and—”

“Where is this going?”

“Hear. Me. Out.” You warn once more, emphasising each word. Matt sighs, nodding his head for you to continue. “We always help each other out, correct? And there’s no awkwardness between us, which is what also makes us so close. Remember that time we had to make out in front of Jeremy so he would stop hitting on me? And that time I pretended to be your girlfriend so Gracie would get the hint that you didn’t want to sleep with her anymore?”

“Well, yeah, but that didn’t exactly work out because we ended up hooking up with them a few days after it happened—”

“That’s not the point,” You say as you frustratingly rub at your temples. “The point is that we always help each other, no matter what the situation is, because we’re best friends. So, as best friends, I think we should help each other out with our little situation.”

“And how can we help each other out?”

“By fucking each other.”

The second those words leave your mouth, Matt chokes on his food, banging his fist against his chest as he coughs, his eyes watering and face turning red. The sight of his reaction has you cackling, wishing you had your phone nearby to take a picture.

After a few moments, Matt manages to regain his breath, reaching down to grab his bottle of water from the side of the couch and gulping it down almost immediately.

You click your tongue against your teeth, a playful smirk on your face. “That was a little dramatic.”

“And you’re crazy,” Matt shoots back, water droplets trickling down his chin as he looks at you with wide eyes. “Do you realise what you just said?”

You nod your head, “Perfectly.”

“We are not fucking. It’ll be weird,” Matt says, you instantly find offence to that, your jaw dropping in disbelief. Matt rolls his eyes at your reaction. “We’re best friends. Best friends don’t do that type of shit—Stop looking at me like that!”

You huff, turning your head away from him childishly. “I’m just trying to help us out. I don’t think it’ll be weird… people have done weirder.”

“Are you aware of how many friendships have been ruined because they fucked?” Matt questions you and you take a moment to ponder, wincing as you can easily name a few from the top of your head. “Exactly. As much as I find you attractive, I’m not going to ruin our friendship. We’ve been best friends for too long.”

Your head slowly turns back to Matt, who’s already looking at you. A grin spreads across your face as you flirtatiously bat your eyelashes at him, “You think I’m attractive?”

“My god, you’ve un-fucking-believable, I swear…” Matt trails off, muttering under his breath as he rubs at his forehead in frustration. You beam at the thought of getting under his skin, but eventually you roll your eyes and reach over to press your foot into his side, playfully nudging him to bring his attention back to you.

Matt looks over at you with a deadpan expression and you continue to grin at him, tilting your head to the side as you admire the view.

Truthfully, you’ve always found Matt attractive even if it was in a friendly way and you’d be lying if you said that hooking up with him has never crossed your mind, but that’s mainly because you’re nosy and want to see what all the fuss is about when you constantly hear the girls fawn about what he’s like in bed.

Some say he’s extremely giving, tending to their needs in all ways possible. Some also say he’s demanding and rough, one hand curled into their hair as he’s fucking them from behind, spitting out degrading words into their ears. But you’ve also heard that he sometimes comes across as needy and desperate, begging for his cock to be sucked and to be made a mess out of.

It piques your interest a lot… maybe it’s wrong of you to think that way about someone you know so well, but you’re human after all, sometimes you can’t help the way you think about certain people.

“Look,” You speak up first, letting out a sigh. “What I said was just a suggestion, okay? If you don’t want to do it, then that’s fine—”

“How do you know that it won’t ruin our friendship?” Matt cuts you off and your eyebrows raise in surprise at the question. “We’ve been best friends for, like, six years or something right? I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to throw that all away because we messed up and decided to fuck each other just because we’re ‘sex deprived’.”

“We’re not going to get into anything super serious,” You reassure him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Sure, we’re probably going to end up in some type of friends with benefits situation, but we’re not going to include any of that official or exclusive title bullshit. We just hook up for a release when we can’t find it anywhere else, it’s as simple as that. No complications.”

“So…” Matt purses his lips in deep thought. “We can still fuck other people?”

You scoff, “Of course. You think I’d drop Tyler for you that easily?”

“Fuck you.”

Your lips curl into a smirk, “I’m hoping you would.”

Matt stares at you for a brief moment before chuckling, shaking his head as his tongue prods at his cheek. The little action spurs something within you but you remain seated, wanting Matt to be the one to make the first move if he was game in fucking you to help relieve the stress you’re both feeling… maybe Matt a little more considering that you fucked Tyler a few days prior, but you were desperate to be filled again.

You watch Matt sit in silence for a moment, seemingly deep in his thoughts as his eyebrows knit together, thinking about the pros and cons. His hands come up to pull the cap off of his head completely, his hair messily falling in front of his eyes and your thighs press together as the thought of seeing it between your legs with your fingers threading through the locks.

You internally laugh at how deluded you sound.

“What time does your roommate get back tonight?” Matt questions you, his low tone bringing you out of your own thoughts and your body buzzes with excitement, fumbling as you reach over to snag your phone off the coffee table to check the time, informing him that she won’t be home for another three hours. “Alright. Good to know.”

“So?” You press, dropping your phone back down as you look at him expectedly. “What’s it going to be?”

Matt takes a deep breath, “No titles.”

“None at all.”

“We can still fuck whoever we want.”

“Whoever, whenever.”

“And most importantly…” Matt pauses with a deep sigh, leaning over the couch closer to you and he holds up his hand, his pinkie outstretched. “We’re still best friends.”

“It’ll be like nothing ever changed.” You promise softly with a smile, curling your pinky finger around his own, squeezing it tightly to keep your promise.

It’s silent between you both for a while, and you can clearly see the cogs turning inside Matt’s head as he thinks about his next move, yet you’re the one that decides to take that initiative.

You rip your hand away from his to throw your arms around his shoulders, fingers buried into his locks as you drag him towards you to eagerly plant your lips on his. You’re surprised at how fast Matt responds to the kiss as his hands come up to cup your cheeks, tilting his head to the side to kiss you deeper, slipping his tongue into your mouth.

The plenty drunken kisses you’ve shared with Matt to help each other out of sticky situations is nothing like the kiss you’re experiencing right now, and it catches you extremely off guard. You were expecting him to allow you to take control of what was happening and lead him through it considering you were the one to bring it up, but with the way Matt’s pushing you backwards to lay you down on the couch and crawling between your open legs with his lips still attached to yours, you’re stumped.

“Wait,” You stop him, pressing your palm against his chest to push him back and Matt moves away with raw, wet lips, his fingers hovering above the waistband of your shorts. “Why are we doing this on the couch? I have a bed we can use.”

Matt glares down at you, “That didn’t stop you and Tyler from fucking on my couch.”

“Actually, there were no sheets on Tyler’s bed, so—”

“Think of this as payback,” Matt smiles at you sweetly and you snarl, knocking your leg against his side with force and he laughs through clenched teeth, “Besides, you’ve probably fucked a lot of people on this couch… Do you really care?”

You blink up at him. “Are you implying that I’m a slut?”

Matt shrugs, “Maybe, yeah.”

“That’s so hot of you.”

Matt chuckles and leans down to reconnect your lips, fingers unbuttoning your shorts and pulling them down your legs with your underwear, carelessly throwing them somewhere to the side and you hiss at the cold air that hits, yearning for warmth.

Matt’s lips trail down your throat and to the collar of your shirt, nipping and sucking at your skin, heading south to where your thighs shake in anticipation. Your bottom lip catches between your teeth as you watch him shuffling down to lay between your legs, hands pushing against your knees to spread you further apart, the coldness of his rings prickling at your skin.

Your own hand reaches down to thread your fingers through his hair, trying to tug him closer but he barely budges, gazing up at you with his brows knit together.

You whine, “Hurry.”

“Are you always this impatient?”

“Of course,” You look at him like he’s stupid. “We’re both doing this for a reason and it’s to cum, not to take our sweet little time and—Oh shit…”

“Fucking yapping. You talk too much.” Matt drags his tongue through your folds, the pink muscle swirling over your clit and your body jerks in shock at the sensation, a gasp fleeting past your lips as your grip on his hair tightens, feeling his tongue wiggle between your folds and licking upwards to flick over your clit before his fingers tease at your entrance.

Your body goes slack against the couch cushions, mouth stuck open as he eases two digits inside the warmth of your pussy, curling his fingers upwards as his lips wrap around your sensitive clit and you whine, tugging at his hair a little harder which causes him to groan, the vibrations causing goosebumps to shoot up your spine.

You’re in shock at how well Matt actually uses his tongue and fingers. Of course you’ve heard stories from your girl friends and even Matt himself, but you didn’t expect him to be this good and it completely catches you off track, unable to control the noises that rip from the back of your throat when he begins to pump his fingers in and out of your cunt while using his tongue to work wonders on your clit.

“Matt,” You whisper his name with a moan, thighs twitching and closing in around his head. You feel him smirk against your pussy and you squeeze your thighs in warning. “Stop it.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to cum already?” He asks, his tone a little condescending as he raises his head, mouth glistening with your arousal. His fingers continue hitting that spot that has your toes curling and back arching against the cushions. “You can cum, if you want.”

“You’re so fucking cocky,” You tut, fighting the urge to smile but you amusement ends up slipping away and is overcome b y pleasure as he pumps his fingers a few more times, the tightening band in your stomach snapping as you cum all over his fingers, gasping through high pitched whines and trying to control the convulsing movement of your body.

“That’s it,” Matt hums, pressing a quick kiss to your pussy. “Good job.”

You choke out your words, unable to come up with a full sentence as your hand falls limp onto his shoulder, fingers twitching over the material as you breathe heavily. “What the fuck was that?!”

“Me eating you out,” He answers matter-of-factly, a hint of smugness in his tone as he pops his fingers into his mouth to lick them clean. Your mouth drops in shock at the action and he meets your gaze, “You good?”

“Yeah… good.” You nod dumbly, completely astonished at how nonchalant Matt is acting as you watch him tug his sweatpants and boxers down his legs awkwardly when he sits up, eyes automatically zoning in on his cock that slaps against his stomach once freed from its confinements.

Honestly, you have seen Matt naked. He’s comfortable with stripping in front of you and changing without any thought. But… you’ve never seen Matt hard, and the sight alone is enough to have your mouth watering.

Your best friend is huge.

“Okay,” Matt mumbles to himself, crawling forward and hooking his hands under the back of your knees to pull you closer to him, his thumbs caressing your skin. “Are you sure you’re ready? You know there’s no turning back from this, right?”

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” You grin as you wiggle against him excitedly. “Give me what you got, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that.” Matt clicks his tongue against his teeth, shaking his head as he slowly eases his cock into you. Slowly, your eyes start to widen at the stretch, the burn obvious in your core and thighs, and your hand flies down to his in hopes to slow down his movements despite him going as slow as he possibly can.

You try to breathe steadily through your nose, lips pressed together tightly as your wince at the uncomfortable ache that spreads, your pussy clamping down on him as if you were trying to prevent him from pushing any further.

“Ow.” You whisper, twisting your hips to try and get comfortable and relax but you wince at each movement you make, causing Matt to raise his gaze from where you’re connected to look into your eyes, his own pooling with concern.

“Are you okay?”

You hum with a curt nod of your head, “Nothing of that significant size has been up there before, you know? I’m just… feeling uncomfortable, that’s all.”

Matt’s lips curl into a grin, “You calling my dick big?”

You send him a hardened glare, “Not as big as your fucking head.”

Matt laughs loudly and he lays his hand flat across your lower stomach as he adjusts himself between your legs, head ducking down slightly to watch himself slowly push into you once more, but the second your legs tense up, he sighs apologetically and strokes your stomach, sliding his cock out of you and you whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness, looking at him with a pout.

“Give me a second, okay?” Matt orders you, gently grabbing your waist to help turn you around on all fours. The brows pinch together at the new position, but your body seems to relax when you feel his hands slide around your back and press down tightly, arching it to hold you in place as you feel his cock at your entrance once more. “This should feel better. But tell me if it hurts? I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

“Just—” You grit your teeth together. “Just fuck me, Matt.”

“You got it.” Matt whispers as he pushes himself back into you again at a slower pace and you gasp, your fingers gripping the arm of the couch, head dropping low to rest on the cushions as you try to control your breathing. The new position was definitely better than the last, but you can still feel him stretch you out to fit you around his cock. “Is my dick really that big?”

“Are you asking because you’re concerned or because you want me to boost your ego?”

Matt smiles, “Maybe both.”

You don’t even get the chance to retaliate with your own snarky comment as Matt fills you up completely, hips pressing to your ass and cry out at how full you’re feeling, unable to think properly as he pulls back, leaving the tip nestled in your cunt before thrusting back in.

Matt curses loudly behind you, fingers digging into your ski as he rocks his hips into you, his thrusts sending your body jerking forwards. You squeeze around his cock and he grunts, changing his pace and you can’t help but fuck youtself back onto him, whining and panting at the pleasure that swirls in the pit of your tummy.

The lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin is enough to have your eyes rolling back in pleasure, driving you even closer to the edge along with his rapid thrusts and continuous cursing. You’re positive you can even hear him praise you a little bit, muttering about how tight your pussy is.

You would’ve never guessed he was into such dirty talk. Matt continues to amaze you.

Your pussy clamps around his cock when you feel his hand sneak beneath your body to reach between your thighs, the pads of his fingers rubbing diligent circles on your clit and you mewl, your own hand coming down to latch around his wrist.

“Shit,” You slur your words, drool seeping past the corner of your lips. “So good—fuck, Matt, don’t stop—s’good.”

“You’re funny if you think I’m gonna stop.” Matt chuckles behind you and you can feel the tears build up in your waterline as Matt leans over your body, holding himself up with one hand on the arm of the couch, his other still rubbing circles on your clit. You gasp as how deep he’s nestled within you and it has you seeing stars, your toes curling and your body tensing up as his cock fucks into your cunt, repeatedly hitting that spot over and over before your second orgasm of the night hits you violently.

Your screams are muffled by the cushions, walls pulsating around his cock as you cum, struggling to hold up your own weight as your body falls limp on the couch. Pleasure buzzes through your veins and it sends you mind whirling as Matt fucks you through it to reach his own high, moving his hand from your clit to rest on your lower back, arching your ass up to fuck you deeper.

“Where do you want me to cum?” He pants heavily, thumb stroking the bottom of your spine. “Fuck—tell me where I can cum.”

“Anywhere you want.” You slur your words, craning your head to the side to look at him, capturing how his eyes widen slightly.

“Anywhere?” Matt repeats as he slows down his movements and you nod your head, only to yelp in shock when he pulls out of you completely and flips your body around once more. You stare at him in surprise as he crawls up your body, resting a hand on your cheek and pulling down your bottom lip with his thumb. “Here?”

You don’t give him a verbal answer, instead you open wide, welcoming him and Matt grins, pushing the head of his cock into your mouth and sighing as your lips close around him, suckling on his tip as he cums in long spurts down your throat, brows knitting together in pleasure and moaning softly as your tongue presses against his slit, swallowing everything he gives you.

There’s a comfortable silence as Matt removes himself from above you, choosing to drop down in the limited space between your body and the couch, running his fingers through his sweaty hair as he tries to catch his breath.

It takes you a few seconds to comprehend what had just happened, staring between Matt’s naked lower half and yours before you abruptly sit up, rolling onto your knees that pop as you stare down at him incredulously.

“Matt!” You screech, punching his shoulder with such force that has him wincing.

“Ow!” He hisses, rubbing the area. “Why—”

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you were that good?” You immediately cut him off, not allowing him to finish as you shake your head quickly. “We should’ve done this ages ago!”

Matt rolls his eyes in annoyance despite the grin that spreads across his cheeks as he throws his arm over his face, “Shut up.”

“Okay, so, let me get this straight,” Nick pauses to chew and swallow his sandwich, pointing between you and Matt on the opposite side of the table. “You two decided to hook up last night because neither of you have hooked up with anyone in a long time, and now you’ve made some sort of deal that when you can’t find release somewhere else, you’ll go to each other?”

“Yeah.”

“What the actual fuck?!” Nick exclaims, looking at you both as if you’ve grown an extra head before abruptly turning to Chris and Tyler who are sitting beside each other silently, watching everything unfold. “Why are you guys saying anything?!”

“I don’t think it’s as bad as you’re making it out to be,” Chris shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly before he turns his attention to you, furrowing his eyebrows. “Although, I am kind of offended you didn’t ask me to fuck you.”

You grimace, “It makes me queasy thinking about where your dick has been, if I’m honest.”

“When was the last time you got tested?” Matt teases his younger triplet, a slight smirk curling at the ends of his lips as he leans back into his chair, hands shoved deep into his pockets as he manspreads. Chris rolls his eyes and retaliates by throwing him the middle finger.

“And you’re okay with this?” Nick questions Tyler who slowly nods his head as he rolls a blunt beneath the table, lips pursed in concentration.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Tyler questions back, lifting his gaze to Nick and raising a brow before looking back down to his lap. “We just fuck, that’s it. And besides, sometimes I get so faded that I can’t even get my dick up. She needs good dick and I can’t give it to her when I’m that out of it.”

You gasp in awe, reaching across the table to grip his arm. “You are so thoughtful!”

“So I’m the only sane fucking person that thinks this is a stupid idea?” Nick shakes his head in disbelief, biting into his sandwich with a deep sigh. His eyes suddenly widen, a piece of lettuce hanging from his mouth as he erratically pats his pockets. “Where’s Nate? Somebody text Nate right now.”

“Please, you know damn well Nate isn’t going to give a shit,” Chris cackles with a grin, adjusting the beanie on his head. “Pretty sure he fucked his girl best friend last year.”

“Yeah? And where is she now?” Nick looks at all of you expectedly for an answer and you frown, sinking into your seat with your arms crossed over your chest. “Exactly.”

“Come on, kid, it’s not like that…” Matt tries to explain. “We talked about it. We’re not doing any of that exclusive or official title stuff. We’re not making it weird.”

“Meaning we can still hook up with whoever we want.” You add on, eyes flickering over to Tyler and you give him a pretty smile, only for him to look back at you with a smirk and give you a flirtatious wink.

“So, what I’m hearing is,” Chris pauses, leaning his elbows on the table and resting his chin on the palm of his hand as he bats his eyelashes at you. “There’s still a chance for me?”

Nick immediately plugs his ears as he repeatedly mumbles, “I don’t not want to hear this. Stop it immediately. I hate it.”

“Hate what?” Nate’s voice interrupts from behind and you whiz around in your seat, grinning widely as you see Nate approaching your table with his hockey jersey in one hand and his books in the other.

He greets you all with a smile, placing his belongings down on the table before grabbing an empty chair from another, the metal legs scraping across the floor as he drags it to place beside Matt, slapping his hand down on Matt’s shoulder in greeting as he sits down.

“What are you talking about anyway?”

“They hooked up,” Nick immediately jumps straight into it as he points at the two of you and you sigh, throwing your head back in frustration. Matt laughs beside you. “And they’re going to continue to hook up whenever they don’t have anyone else to go to, so—”

“Oh, nice man.”

Nick stares at Nate, “No. Not nice. Not nice at all,” Nick shakes his head. “You’re all helpless. Dumb and helpless, every single one of you.”

Nate pulls a face, “I mean, it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be—”

“That’s what I said~” Chris sings.

“And besides, they’re grown adults. They can do whatever they want.” Nate’s words make your brows raise with little surprise, watching as he flips open his book and grabs the pen that rests behind his ear, biting the cap off with his teeth before looking at you. “I’m surprised it took you both this look to actually hook-up… I thought it would’ve happened months ago.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just means I thought you two would’ve fucked months ago.” Nate smiles and shrugs his shoulders innocently, blowing the cap out of his mouth and watching it with his hand before he begins to scribble on the pages. You roll your eyes, glancing over at Matt who shrugs his own shoulders, not fully understanding the meaning of Nate’s words but chooses not to dwell on it any longer as he reaches for his drink, sipping through the straw as he gives his attention to Chris who angles his phone in his direction to show him something you could barely see.

Nick shakes his head, still in disbelief as he shoves the last remaining bite of his sandwich into his mouth before grabbing his book out of his backpack to take notes alongside Nate. He then comically raises his head up to point his pen at you and Matt.

“Also, just to let you know, I don’t want to hear any complaining from either of you when this whole situationship bullshit ends up going to literal shit,” Nick warns before he slowly turns to the pen to point to himself, “Because I will laugh in your face and simply say, ‘I told you so’.”

A scoff leaves your lips as Matt speaks, “Relax, kid. Everything is going to be fine. Plus, this whole thing could just be a one time thing… It might not even happen again,” Matt turns to look at you. “Right?”

A smile finds its way onto your face as you lean your elbows on the table, chin resting on the palm of your hand as you give him an affirmative nod. “Right.”

“Fuck, Matt.” You moan out his name repeatedly, back arching off your bed, gripping the pillows resting behind your head with your mouth wide open. Matt’s fingers pump in and out of your pussy, squirting over his hand and splashing onto the bed sheets below you.

He laughs as you shove your face into the crook of your arm, body trembling and breathing whines slipping past your lips from the overwhelming sensation of him fucking you with his fingers.

Your legs clamp shut around his hand but he’s already prying you back open with the other, holding them down to the bed as his fingers curl upwards, almost bringing you to tears at the pleasure in the pit of your tummy.

“There we go…” Matt hums softly, milking you for every drop you can give. You quiver and gasp when Matt comes to a stop, the grin on his face evident as he pulls his fingers from your cunt and you whine, struggling to raise your foot and kick him in his side. He captures your ankle in his grasp, drawing circles with his fingertips. “You good?”

“You good?” You mock him, tone nasally. Your arms flop to your side as you take a deep breath, ignoring the way Matt’s laughing at you. “That was intense… I felt like I was going crazy.”

“Thank you,” Matt grins, eyes twinkling as he slips off your bed. “Your need to change your sheets though.”

“Wow. So gentlemanly of you to offer to help.” You mutter sarcastically under your breath, clicking your tongue against your teeth. You stand up from the bed and your knees buckle beneath you, causing you to panic and immediately reach out and grab onto a surface to steady yourself, throwing the middle finger up in Matt’s direction when he chuckles.

He tells you to go shower while he takes care of the sheets and you immediately oblige, patting his arm in a quick thanks as you wobble out of your bedroom and into the bathroom, eager to clear yourself up after previous activities.

You take longer than usual to shower, taking your time to scrub your body clean and even wash your hair, not even caring about what Matt could be doing inside your home as he waits for you, but you pause your routine when you actually begin to think about your relationship with Matt.

It’s been almost three weeks since you started hooking up with Matt, showing up at each other's places whenever you’re in need of sex, getting it over and done with before hanging out properly, before even getting a bite to eat or binge watching a series.

You still sleep with Tyler. You’ve even fucked Tyler and Matt on the same day. Matt doesn’t care, of course he doesn’t, and personally neither do you. But there have been a few moments where you start to recall the amount of times you had chosen Matt over Tyler… and it was a lot.

You and Matt are supposed to fuck whenever you have no one else to go to. And yet, give the choice… you still chose Matt.

A loud call of your name and a fist banging against the bathroom door startles you out of your thoughts, “I need to piss. Hurry up!”

“Just come in!” You yell back at him, frowning as you face the stream of water to let the soap run off your body as you mumble, “It’s not like you haven’t barged in before.”

You hear the door creak open behind the shower curtain and you poke your head around just in time for Matt to unzip his pants to relieve himself, his head tilting back with a sigh of relief.

His eyes meet yours when he turns his head and his brows knit together, giving you an odd look. “What?”

“Can I ask you a question?” He blinks before giving you a quick nod. “Are you still fucking other people?”

“Yeah,” That answer relieves you a bit. “I was with Sadie last weekend.”

“I have another question.”

“Why are you—”

“I’m asking the questions,” You cut him off and Matt laughs, nodding for you to continue as he zips up his pants and washes his hands. “Has Sadie, or any other girl, been available on the same day that I’ve been available? Or asked you to come over?”

“Uh…” Matt ponders for a moment, bottom lip poking out his deep thought as he dries his hands on a towel. “Yeah, I think so.”

“And who did you end up choosing?”

“You.”

It shocks you at how fast he answers your question and you grip the shower curtain for support, the slippery floor of the shower almost making you tumblr. He chose you too… is that wrong? You’re uncertain and it makes you feel a little uneasy. Surely there must be a reasonable explanation to why you choose each other instead of fucking other available people.

“Why are you asking me that anyway?”

“Curious,” You answer quickly as you close the curtain to block him out and continue showering, ignoring the way he’s mumbling under his breath how strange you are. “Wait. I have another question.”

“Ask me when you’re down showering.”

“Why?” The tone of your voice turns sultry as you smirk, “Is knowing I’m naked behind this shower curtain turning you on?”

Matt doesn’t answer. Instead, his arm shoots out from behind the curtain, hand curling around the faucet tap to turn the temperature of the water, laughing like a maniac as he hears you scream from the cold water that splashes your skin.

You hated birthdays.

Actually, you hated your birthday.

You hated knowing you’re getting older each year, desperately wanting to go back to the ages where all you worried about was not making a fool of yourself in front of someone you had a crush on, or not knowing the biggest high school gossip about who was seeing who behind whoever’s back.

Now, at your growing age, all you worry about is failing college and not being able to get a good enough job to provide a future for yourself.

You wish nobody knew it was your birthday, but having such a close group of groups who knew you better than you knew yourself, it wasn’t going to be easy, and you almost spun around and darted out of campus when you saw Chris twirling a gift bag in hand with helium balloons that spelt out ‘birthday girl!’ in big, bold letters tied to his wrist.

“There she is!”

You wanted the ground to swallow you up.

“Happy birthday!” Chris yells loudly when you reach their circle, letting your backpack drop to the grass beside Tyler who looks up at you with a dopey smile. Chris shoves the gift bag into your hands when you finally sit down, huffing at the weight of the bag. “I bought you something.”

“I told him not to, I promise,” Nick tells you as he applies chapstick before he leans in close, “But as always, Chris doesn’t fucking listen.”

“And I never will,” Chris grins, untying the strip of balloons from around his wrist to tie them around your own, ignoring the dark glare you give him as he smiles at you cheekily. “Look inside. It’s all the essentials you need.”

“I swear to god, if you—”

“Shh,” He pressed his finger against your lips. “Less talking, more looking.”

You roll your eyes, swatting his finger away from your face before peering into the bag. A soft, genuine laugh leaves your lips when you first see two bottles of your favourite alcoholic beverage and a few chocolates, but you immediately cease all laughter and amusement when you see a pack of condoms and a Plan B box sandwiched between the pair.

Tyler peeks over your shoulder to drop a pre-rolled joint and a few gummies into the bag for later, but makes a funny noise when he sees the condom pack. He dips his hand inside the bag to pull it out, throwing it back at Chris who fumbles to catch it.

“Hey—”

“She doesn’t use condoms.”

Chris gapes, slowly turning his head towards you with widened eyes. He leans forward, nose brushing against yours as he speaks, “Are you sure you don’t want to fuck me?”

Nick yells and covers his ears, threatening to punch his youngest sibling in the throat as Nate and Tyler snort.

“Positive,” You giggle and pat his cheek, causing him to whine and slump back into his own space in defeat. “I’m thankful for the gifts, but please… you know I hate celebrating my birthday. And were the balloons really necessary too? Did you have to make it more obvious?”

Chris frowns, tugging at the string. “But the balloons are pretty.”

“She doesn’t like balloons, kid.”

Your head whizzes around so quickly you’re positive you could hear it crack at the speed, a grin spreading across your cheeks when you see Matt standing behind you looking at your balloons in disgust. But your eyebrows raise in surprise when you see Sadie standing beside him.

You greet her with a wave and she reciprocates, wishing you a quiet happy birthday which you thank her for and motioning for them both to join you in your circle, but Sadie shakes her head with an apology, announcing that she has to be somewhere else.

You watch as she places her hand on Matt’s bicep, asking if they can meet up later but Matt shakes his head, telling her that he already has plans and her face deflates for a moment before nodding, bidding him and the rest of you a goodbye before leaving.

Matt lets out a huff as he drops down to the grass, stretching out his legs and knocking his foot against yours, mouthing you a quick happy birthday and you smile in gratitude.

“Sadie seems to be hanging out with you a lot recently,” Nate points out and Nick nods his head in agreement. “You like her?”

Matt shakes his head, “No. She was just asking me if I wanted to do something this weekend.”

“Are you?”

“No,” Matt mindlessly starts plucking the glass, avoiding everyone's eyes as they zone in on him. “I don’t have the time. Got some assignments to finish for my classes.”

Hearing him say that he hasn’t got the time sparks interest in you, and you begin to wonder if Matt would end up asking you for some well needed release. It excites you, especially when you realise you haven’t been under him or on top of him in a few days and you press your thighs together at the thought of possibly getting dicked down sooner rather than later.

It’s a birthday gift, you say to yourself when you try to give an excuse to why you’re so needy to be fucked by Matt. It’s just a birthday gift… yet, you have Tyler right beside you, someone who’s easily available and someone who used to be frequent in giving you the best birthday sex of your life.

You could ask Tyler to come over tonight, but why wasn’t the question being asked? Why does it feel like you’re stopping yourself from asking something so simple and easy?

Perhaps you’re so used to sleeping around with Matt that it doesn’t even occur to you to ask someone else anymore. Tyler doesn’t seem bothered, maybe because he’s been getting his fix elsewhere too, so why does it bother you?

A quiet call of your name brings you out of your thoughts and you turn your head towards the source, gazing landing on Matt who is looking back at you with a kind smile.

He shuffles further into the circle to get closer to you, voice dipping low. “Come home with me later? I have something for you.”

“What is it?” You instantly ask back, excitement evident in your tone. Even though you weren’t the biggest fan of celebrating your birthday and receiving gifts, there was no doubt in your mind that Matt was probably one of the best people to receive gifts from, knowing he usually goes above and beyond to give you the most memorable birthday.

You smile when you remember the three-day spa voucher he gave you last year when he and his brothers had taken you away for the weekend, it was the most breathtaking cabin you had ever been to. The sunset above the lake was still photographed in your memory, so was the midnight drive he took you on when Chris and Nick were sleeping.

The sights were beautiful, and you were grateful to have seen it with your best friend.

“You’ll find out.” Matt tells you with a smile, refusing to give you a hint of any sort as he turns his attention to Nick to engage in a conversation. You pout, shoulders slumping in defeat and Chris knocks his arm against yours, voice teasing as he whispers in your ear;

“Looks like my gifts will come in handy after all—OW!”

“This is actually fucking ridiculous.” You giggle as you’re blindingly walking into Matt’s dorm, his hands covering your eyes to prevent you from seeing even though you’ve tried countless times to peek through the gaps between his fingers.

Matt’s chest rumbles against your back as he laughs, waiting for you to toe off your shoes at the entrance before leading you further into the room.

You have the layout completely mapped out in your head from the amount of times you’ve been at his place, already knowing that he’s leading you into the kitchen just by the cold marbling that you feel beneath your feet.

You almost trip as Matt shoves you down onto a chair and whispers a countdown in your ears before he removes his hands from your face. Your vision is blurry for a moment and you try to adjust to your surroundings with a few blinks, jaw dropping in complete awe as the splotches begin to disperse and you see what’s presented in front of you.

“Are you kidding me?” You whisper softly in astonishment at the gifts that are laid out across the table. You spot a few of your favourite scented candles stacked on top of each other, a bottle of perfume that you were one hundred percent certain that was sitting in your wishlist on an online store you were browsing a few days prior, and a miniature bag with the logo of your favourite jewellery store.

You feel extremely overwhelmed, the urge to cry becoming harder to keep at bay as your eyes water and string, throat tightening over how thoughtful Matt had been.

You turn your head towards him with your bottom lip quivering and Matt snickers, pulling a party hat from god knows where and advancing closer to you.

“You asshole…” You insult jokingly, using the sleeves of your shirt to wipe at your eyes, hoping that the tears wouldn’t dare fall as Matt secures the hat on top of your head. You point to it, “Isn’t this a little cheesy?”

Matt rolls his eyes, snapping the elastic band against your chin for extra measure and you hiss at the slight sting it causes, punching his arm in retaliation but he pays no mind, smiling to himself as he turns his back to you for a moment to open the refrigerator door, pulling out a white squared box.

He balances it on the palm of his hand with ease, using his foot to kick the door shut as he makes his way back to you.

You’re grinning widely at the thought of what could be inside the box, even though you’ve already guessed it’s a cake. Your hands rub together excitingly as Matt places it on the counter and gently slides it over to you, the box still in his grasp as it stops in front of you, drumming his fingers on the cardboard.

Sensing your eagerness, Matt lifts the lid off of the box and the excitement on your face drops almost instantly, expressionless as you peek inside to see the miniature spongebob themed cake staring back at you.

You raise your head to see Matt already grinning at you, tongue poking at his cheek as he opens up a drawer to retrieve two plastic forks, twiddling them between his fingers.

You deadpan, “Are you sure we’re not celebrating your birthday right now?”

“Be quiet, you like spongebob just as much as I do,” Matt scoffs as he hands over one of the plastic forks and you take it with a smile. You go to cut out a piece for yourself but freeze when Matt makes a weird noise, gazing up at him in alarm. “Wait. Hold on—my god—let me take a photo first.”

You roll your eyes but happily oblige as Matt fishes his phone out of his pocket and angles it towards you. You pose, pointing to the cake with a wide smile, almost blinded by the flash when Matt takes the picture and you immediately rub at your eyes, trying to get rid of the blotches while spitting a few creative curse words that make him giggle.

He quickly takes the opportunity of you being blinded to slide beside you, holding his phone high to take a selfie and you poke out your tongue, using your free hand to cup Matt’s cheeks while he rests his on top of your head.

Before you have the chance to complain about how hungry you are, you gasp in shock when you feel the coldness of the cake’s frosting rubbed on your cheek and the shutter of the camera goes off when Matt takes another photo, capturing you mid chaos as you dig your fingers into the side of the cake to smush a piece against his own cheek, grinning evilly as the yellow frosting covers his skin.

“Alright, alright. I deserved that,” Matt sighs with a lighthearted laugh, making sure his phone is tucked away and out of the icing zone. “Makes a good blackmail photo though, don’t you think?”

“If that goes anywhere, I will kill you.”

“You already know that’s going on my Instagram, sweetheart.” Matt teases you and you scoff jokingly, shaking your head as you reach for the napkins that are laying conveniently at the side, trying your best to wipe away the frosting before it drops and stains your clothing.

Matt manages to clean himself up pretty easily and decides to help you out when he notices you struggling, plucking a spare napkin from the pile and he takes a hold of your jaw, facing your towards him as he gently wipes at your cheek, careful not to rub too hard at your skin.

You’re suddenly awkward of the close proximity and you grow silent, watching as you cleans you up diligently. The concentrated look on his face is what causes your stomach to whirl and heart bloom with warmth, his eyebrows furrowed and gaze zoned in on the area he needs to clean, tongue licking over his bottom lip.

“Matt…” You call out his name quietly to grab his attention and he pauses, staring right at you. He seems to slowly take notice of how close you both are, taking in the limited space between you both and he goes to remove his hand away from your face but stops himself short with a noise, bringing his hand back to finish the job.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.” Matt whispers to you once he finally wipes away the frosting from your cheeks, smiling down at you with adoration swirling in his eyes and your breathing gets caught at the back of your throat for a moment at the sudden affectionate gaze, unsure of what to say or even what to do with him looking at you the way he is.

Your hands move up to take the birthday hat off of your head, dropping it to the side carelessly as your arms curl around his shoulders, pulling him into your embrace. Matt’s arms slide around your waist, holding you close to his chest as he hugs you back, burying his face in the crevice of your neck and exhaling deeply.

“I’m so thankful,” You admit, squeezing him tight as the emotions within you struggle to be contained. “For real, Matt. I’m really grateful too… thank you for making this birthday special again.”

“It’s not over yet, you know…” Your hear him mutter in your ear and you go to pull back, to question him on what more he could possibly give to top everything else he’s down for today but he’s already bending his knees, arms falling low to lock around your thighs and throwing you over his shoulder with a huff, smacking his hand roughly against your ass as he carries your giggly self to the bedroom.

Friday nights will always be your favourite nights to let loose and party.

Dressing up in your prettiest outfit that makes you feel confident and sexy, decorating your body with the shiniest of jewellery you own and drinking the most intoxicated drink you could find while mingling with your friends.

Talking with your girls face to face after a week of classes had unfailingly lifted your mood, catching up with all the gossip you missed or only briefly discussed over the phone, finally adding your own two cents into situations which they eagerly agree with a nod of their heads, tapping their cups to yours before taking a sip.

“Speaking of unusual relationships,” Sarah, one of your dearest friends, turns to look at you with a grin, “How's it going with you and Matt? Have things turned awkward yet?”

“Nope,” You shake your head, buzzing happily. “We’re fine. The whole ‘hooking up with your best friend’ culture isn’t as complicated as everyone makes it out to be. Everyone gets dramatic about it for no reason.”

Kendall lets out a heavy sigh, nursing her drink in her hand, “I don’t know how you do it. I can’t even imagine hooking up with Isaac. I mean, he’s attractive, but we’ve seen and know too much about each other to get physical on an intimate level… props to you.”

Anna shifts her gaze to you next, “Do you still fuck Tyler?”

“On occasion,” You admit. “But honestly, I’ve been so wrapped up in assignments—”

“And Matt.”

You give Sarah a smirk, “I haven’t really had the time to call up Tyler and ask him to fuck. He doesn’t mind anyways. He’s been busy smoking and selling weed for some extra cash.”

“What about Matt? Is he still fucking around?”

You pause at that, lips pursing in deep thought before you shrug your shoulders, “I don’t know. I haven’t asked recently if I’m honest.”

Kendall gestures over your shoulder, “Looks like you’re about to find out the answer.”

You crane your neck to follow the direction she’s pointing in, noticing Matt standing near a back wall with a drink in hand, deep in conversation with Sadie who’s smiling, locked on each word he’s speaking to her.

Feeling your eyes on him, Matt looks up to meet your gaze, raising his drink in greeting and you grin, lifting your own cup before he resumes back in conversation.

You take in his appearance with interest; a black fitted tank top paired with some loose fitted jeans and shoes you’re certain he definitely stole from Nick’s closet. The silver chain deer hangs from his neck and silver rings adorn his fingers. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he looks good.

“Take it easy with the lovey dovey eyes,” Sarah teases, nudging your shoulder to bring your attention back to her and you laugh, tipping your head back to finish the contents of your drink. “He does look good though, so I don’t blame you.”

“When was the last time you fucked Matt?” You direct your question towards Anna who shrugs her shoulders in response.

“I don’t remember,” She smacks her lips together. “Definitely more than two months ago, that’s for sure… No disrespect to you but god, I miss his cock. How he walks around with that thing completely baffles me.”

Kendall’s eyes widened slightly, “Is Matt’s cock big?”

“Yes.”

You and Anna share a knowing smile and high give each other. You drone out the complaints Kendall makes about wanting to fuck someone with a big cock and how Isaac always sets her up with people who are both shitty in bed and lack personality, you being too focused on looking around the room to find a clear path to get more drinks and you dismiss yourself from your girls for a moment as you spot Nick and Tyler pouring vodka into each others cups.

You bound over to your favourite boys, throwing your arms around their shoulders and startling them with your presence, but Tyler hazily smiles you when he sees it’s you and presses a chaste kiss to your temple as Nick hugs you tight in greeting, offering to fill up your cup which you happily give him.

“Where have you been?” Nick asks you as Tyler takes your hand in his to twirl your around, whistling as he eyes your dress. “You look pretty.”

“Catching up with my girls because I spend way too much time with you guys,” You explain, but cheesily grin at the compliment you received on your outfit. Nick hands you your filled drink and you thank him, taking a quick sip as your eyes glance around the room, “Where’s the rest of the guys?”

“Chris is around here somewhere trying to get laid and Nate is talking to this girl he likes from his classes,” Nick informs you before he laughs. “Matt’s been talking with Sadie for the past hour—-sweet girl is trying to make her move.”

“And why aren’t you showing off your charms tonight?”

Nick’s face immediately drops, “Please. I’m done with boys. All they make me feel is absolute regret and disappointment.”

You smile in sympathy, “You’re looking at the wrong guys.”

“No,” Nick shakes his head. “They’re all the same. Everyone of them. Disgusting.”

You loop your arm around his, tugging him into your side, “What if I introduce you to this guy in my class? He’s tall… handsome… sweet…”

Nick eyes you, clearly interested in what you’re telling him and he holds his head high, “Maybe.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Chris!” You greet him happily as he appears beside Tyler, staring at you all with a confused look but grins when you throw yourself into his arms to hug him tightly, swaying you both back and forth. “I thought you were trying to get laid?”

“I was,” Chris sighs as he pulls away from the hug, but keeps an arm wrapped around your middle. “But she has a boyfriend and he’s, like, scary looking and I didn’t feel like getting nightmares for life.”

You frown, patting his shoulder. “What a shame. The dry spell continues for you.”

Chris leans into your touch, batting his eyelashes prettily at you with a smirk, “You can change that for me if you want.”

Nick fake gags behind you as you smile, “In your dreams.”

Chris sighs jokingly, dropping his head low. “Guess I’ll keep on dreaming then.”

“Dreaming about what?”

The sound of Matt’s voice has you spinning around, beaming happily as your eyes meet his but it falters slightly when you notice the fake smile he’s sporting, wanting to question him and ask him what’s wrong but you bite your tongue, not wanting to bring attention to the subject, knowing it’ll make Matt uncomfortable putting him on the spot.

You reach out and touch his arm, giving him a comforting squeeze which makes him seem to relax, using your grip on him to tug your into his side and for Chris’ arm to slip from your waist.

“Chris is saying weird ass shit about her again,” Nick fills Matt in, wafting the smoke that Tyler blows in his face teasingly when he takes a hit of his joint. “How’s Sadie?”

“Fine,” Matt replies simply, licking at his lips as he turns to you. “Do you want to get out of here? Just me and you?”

Chris immediately takes offence to that, “What about us? What are you going to do without us?!”

Matt goes to answer but Nick immediately raises his hand, silencing him. “Don’t answer that. Just don’t.”

You’re in complete bliss with Matt holding himself above you, your back is arched, bare chest pressed to his as he nips and licks at your neck, his hips lazily grinding into yours, cock hitting deeper than he’s ever been.

The pace is slow, something that you’re not used to when it comes to Matt, but you don’t find the voice within you to complain, enjoying it a lot more than you’d admit with your fingers tangled in his hair, cries spilling from your lips with your legs hooked over his waist.

He’s grunting in the crevice of your neck with each deep thrust, one hand caressing the side of your face while the other finds a place beside your head, holding up his weight.

You’re whining from the loss of contact when he moves his head away, missing the feeling of his teeth against your skin, the slight stubble scratching your face and you look up at him pleadingly, but he’s frozen as he stares down at you, despite his hips thrusting automatically into you.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so pretty…” You barely hear him mumble and your heart pounds against your ribcage at the complement, body feeling more heated and warm.

“Matt—”

He cuts off your words by planting his lips on yours with the most sweetest and softest kiss he’s ever given you, and you melt into the touch, fingers untangling from his hair to cup his cheeks in your palms, gasping through the kiss as Matt's cock cock slowly pulls out of your pussy before pushing back in, sending a shrill up your spine.

The band in your tummy tightens with each slow but powerful thrust he gives you, thighs shaking around his frame, unable to keep up with his kisses as your mouth falls open with short gasps and whines, white specks flickering in your vision as your feel yourself inching closer and closer over the edge.

“Cum,” Matt whispers, breath fanning over your face as he pants, “Do it. Cum on my cock.”

You wail as the band snaps, orgasm crashing down on you violently. Your body convulses, pussy squeezing around his cock, keeping him buried deep which has him moaning, his own hips stuttering as he cums. You feel him pulse inside you, filling you up with everything he gives.

Matt’s head slumps down on your shoulder as you try to steady your breathing, wincing as you feel him slowly move his hips back to pull his cock out of your sensitive cunt, your hand falling from his face to drop down at your pussy, gathering his cum that pools out onto your fingers.

“I’m sorry,” Matt apologises against your skin, “I’m sorry, I—shit. I should’ve asked if I could—fuck. I got too overwhelmed. I’m sorry.”

“It’s kind of cute that you’re apologising,” You admit, gently pushing him off of your body to sit upright. “But you don’t need to apologise… this isn’t the first time you came inside me, Matt.”

“I know,” Matt runs his fingers through his sweaty hair. “I usually ask...”

“Matt. It’s fine,” You reassured him, placing your palm on his bicep. “I’ll forgive you a thousand times more if you help clean me up though.”

Matt smiles and nods his head as he slips off the bed, disappearing out of the room for a moment and returning with a wet towel. He sits between your parted legs, gently cleaning up the mess, whispering apologies and apologies every time you wince when he presses down on sensitive areas, thighs closing around his hand which he carefully pries open to resume his job.

You sit in silence, watching him, frowning at the troubled look you see on his face, not used to seeing Matt being so closed off with his feelings and emotions, especially towards you. He hasn’t been open and honest with you in the past few weeks, he hasn’t come to you and asked for your reassurance or help.

It makes you feel a little bit defeated.

Something is different, and you struggle to pinpoint what it is.

The questions lay on the tip of your tongue, desperate to be brought to light and asked, and even more desperate to get the answers you’ve been craving. Your relationship with Matt has changed since the proposition you’ve made about sleeping together, but he’s still your best friend.

“What’s going on?” You finally ask and Matt freezes, fingers clutching the wet towel in his grasp tightly. “And please don’t lie to me… I can tell when you’re being truthful or not—”

“What am I to you?” Matt suddenly asks and you’re a little thrown off at your question being answered with his own question. He takes his hand away completely as you blink at him, feeling confused. “Even with all this going on… what am I to you?”

“You’re my best friend?”

Matt seems to frown deeply at that, “So nothing has changed? At all? Even with us sleeping together? I’m still your best friend?”

“Wh—of course!” You’re baffled, assuming that with the way Matt is speaking about your situationship, that he is worried that you have gained some negative feelings towards him. It hurts you, and you’re eager to reassure him, to let him know that everything is okay. “Matt, you’ll always be my best friend. We promised nothing would change, right? I’m keeping that promise.”

Matt closes his eyes as his shoulders sink in defeat, “I…” He drops his head with a sigh. “I can’t do this anymore.”

You bring your knees up to your chest, “Do what?”

“This,” He gestures between the two of you. “I just… I can’t. Not anymore. I can’t continue sleeping with you.”

“Oh.” You swallow thickly, feeling something heavy weighing in your throat. “Why?”

“Things have changed,” His voice is quieter now and it makes your heart shatter at the tone. Does he hate you? “I can’t continue whatever this is and be your best friend at the same time, it has to stop. It—” Matt sighs, rubbing at his forehead. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” You mutter as your chin rests on your knees, hugging your legs closer to your chest to cover your modesty. You refuse to even look at him now, finding interest in the sheets below you as your throat tightens up more, feeling sick at the thought of him hating you so much that he can’t even continue sleeping with you. “I’m sorry too. I don’t know what I did to make you hate me, but I—”

“Wait what?”

“—I’m just so sorry. Especially if I came across too forward and for putting you in such a position, I know you were so hesitant about this in the direct place.” You’re babbling now, unable to take control of yourself due to the overwhelming feeling that washed over you. “I’m so fucking sorry, Matt.”

“Wait… I don’t—”

“Can we not tell the others right now?” You raise your head to meet his eyes this time. He’s looking straight at you, confusion and disbelief swimming in his irises but you ignore it, chewing the inner skin of your cheek. “Mostly Nick. I don’t really want to hear him laugh in our faces and give us the whole ‘I told you so’ speech he threatened us with at the start.”

Matt calls out your name and extends his hand to touch you, but you’re already climbing off of the bed, searching around for your underwear and dress that was thrown across the room earlier.

You’re too embarrassed to continue on with the conversation, to ask him what exactly you did to make him grow to hate you so suddenly. Truthfully, you didn’t really want to dwell on it too much, the pain of losing someone like Matt already making your heart ache.

You just wanted to go home—to be in the comfort of your own bed and curse yourself out, and probably cry to the point you might just forget everything that just happened. You are feeling a little teary, but you wouldn’t dare cry in front of Matt right now.

“I’ll, uh, see you around or something,” You sniffle, shoving the heels onto your feet and casting one final look his way. “I’m sorry.”

It’s been almost two weeks since your last encounter with Matt.

You shouldn’t be avoiding him like you are. It’s childish, you know that. But you can’t force yourself to face someone who used to be your best friend and now seemingly hates your guts.

Maybe you should’ve waited a few more minutes, to give him enough time to explain the entire situation and how he was feeling but you were selfish, you didn’t want to hear him explain in full detail what you had done to make him change his feelings towards you so negatively.

You miss him. Of course you miss him. For years he’s been your best friend—your other half, more like. There was no you without Matt and vice versa. You weren’t exactly sure on how you could continue moving on without Matt by your side, as dramatic as it sounds… but you’ve always been a little dramatic.

His brothers, Nate and Tyler have been blowing up your phone—-courtesy of you ignoring them too, not wanting to hear Nick rub it in your face on how the ‘friends with benefits bullshit’ you had with Matt actually did go to shit. You also didn’t want to hear the others continuously ask questions about what happened and what had changed.

Even your roommate, someone who keeps herself out of your business and hardly ever bothers you, had cornered you one morning at breakfast, asking why you looked so glum and why the ‘shirtless and tattooed Boston fuckboy’ wasn’t joining you both anymore.

You’re not the type to let anyone know your worries, so you’re surprised when you find yourself explaining to your roommate about what happened in full detail.

She gave you an unimpressed look, calling you a little stupid for not staying behind and listening despite you letting it be known that you couldn’t bear to listen to why his feelings turned negative towards you. Your face twisted and turned, offended by her harsh words but you allowed yourself to let her talk and not interrupt even though you desperately wanted to.

“You jumped to your own conclusion,” She told you when she was collecting the dishes. “You know, for two close best friends who talk to each other every second of the day, you have some major miscommunication issues.”

So, that’s what leads you to now; you sitting alone in the living room with your phone in hand, staring down at yours and Matt’s chat with your thumb between your teeth, biting down on the skin anxiously as you try to figure out how to start a conversation, to let him know you’re ready to listen.

from you: i think we should talk….

from matt: good because im almost at your house anyway. I had to go get something.

from you: ???? u coming over

from matt: yes from matt: i was going to make you listen to me from matt: its kinda important kid.

You snort at his message, sending a quick thumbs up emoji before throwing your phone to the side, awaiting his arrival. Your leg nervously shakes in the corner of your vision and your eyebrows knit together, placing your hand down on your knee and squeezing tight.

As if that will stop you from being nervous.

You’re about to hear the reasoning behind why Matt's feelings had changed for you so negatively, nothing can prepare you for it.

Just bite the bullet. Take it like a champ.

The rapid knocking on the door rips you out of your thoughts and your head slowly turns with a confused look sketched upon your features. Was that Matt? Matt never knocks—he freely walks in like it’s his own place usually, always making himself at home.

You push yourself up from the couch and make your way towards the front door, taking a peek through the peephole to see Matt’s form, teeth nibbling at his bottom lip with his hands behind his back, swaying back and forth nervously. You grow even more confused and concerned, pulling open your door to face him fully.

“Why did you knock—”

“Hate you?!” Matt suddenly cuts you off with a shout, startling you with the loudness of his tone. His eyes are wide as he stares at you, full of disbelief. “Hate you, I—fuck—how could I hate you?! I’d never hate you… god, you’re so frustrating sometimes.”

Your lips quirk upwards, “Nice to see you too?”

“I don’t hate you. At all. When I told you that things have changed, I didn’t mean anything bad by it… I pretty much meant the opposite…” Matt’s words trail off and before you can even get the chance to ask him to explain exactly what he means, air gets caught at the back of your throat and you struggle to speak as he pulls his hands from behind his back; a bag of candy in one and a handful of ripped up flowers in the other. Your heart thumps rapidly. “I’m going to tell you something and I just… I need you to listen to me.”

You barely whisper, “Okay.”

“Being in this friends with benefits relationship with you was not as easy as I thought it would be,” Matt tells you, his honesty making you pull your attention away from the gifts in his hands to meet his gaze. “We promised each other that we’re not going to involve any titles to make it complicated for us… yet here I am, standing in front of you with the same candy and flowers in my hand from when we first met, about to confess my fucking feelings to you, I’m so—”

“You’re rambling.” You cut him off, a smile creeping onto your lips.

“Yeah, of course I am,” Matt laughs at himself, shaking his head as he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck before he straightens out, keeping his eyes on yours. “I fell for you. Hard. I think I sort of realised it on your birthday but I didn’t want to say anything just in case whatever I was feeling wasn’t what I thought it was… but when we were at that party and I saw you from across the room, talking with your friends, I realised how much I actually do fucking like you and that it wasn’t just my dick talking.”

You snort as you repeat, “Dick talking.”

“Shut up,” Matt smiles at you, his own laugh fleeting past his lips before he sighs, “I like you. I’m falling in love with you, and I get it if you want to reject me because of how fucking weird this whole thing turned out… but I would actually like to continue being with you, not just as a best friend but as your boyfriend.”

You’re too busy repeating his confession in your head to notice that Matt is waiting for an answer, bottom lips tucked between his teeth as he bites down nervously, visibly shaking out of excitement or fear due to the fact he just confessed his entire feelings—you weren’t sure which one was right.

The silence from you kills Matt and his face drops when you step forward to quietly take the flowers and candies out of his hands, taking a step back inside your house. His shoulders slump in defeat, taking your nonverbal response as a rejection to his proposal of him being your boyfriend.

He goes to turn around, to get the fuck off your doorstep and drive home, hoping that the intense embarrassment he feels coursing through his veins is enough to make him disappear.

But he freezes mid escape when he hears the rustling of you ripping open the pack of candies, spinning around to see you looking at him with the prettiest smile.

He watches, heart thumping wildly, stomach fluttering with nervousness and excitement as you extend your arm out, angling the bag in his direction and a grin spreads across his face, unable to control the happiness that bursts from within.

You’re giving him a treat, you’ve giving him a relationship.

©sturnioz

#©sturnioz #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fluff #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo triplets smut

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harrylights · 2 years ago

Note

baby, eeby deeby, pretty, soft, shiny but like we already friends

i also woulda said panic before i started talkin to u HAHA

sooo basically what ur saying is that all that’s left is marriage, a picnic, and shopping cart theft? ok bet

#also fjfjdjjfke i still don’t understand WHY u would be scared to talk to me #i’m as intimidating as ur stuffed avocado fr #but i’m glad we’re buds now two peas in the literal gayest pod 🫛💚#rae 🌟#ask games

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bradshawsbaby · 9 months ago

Text

Like Peas in a Pod

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: What happens when two wallflowers find each other?

Word Count: 5.7k

Author’s Note: I admit that this story is extremely self-indulgent. But I have a feeling that a lot of people can relate to what our leading lady goes through, and I hope you can find pieces of yourself in her!

Warnings: Mild angst, social awkwardness, feeling overlooked, alcohol consumption, flirting, fluff.

If you’d had it your way, you would be at home right now, curled up on the couch in a pair of cozy pajamas with a good book and a steaming cup of tea in hand. But instead, your friends had outnumbered you 3-1 and you were currently sitting in the middle of a noisy, crowded bar, the patrons loudly competing with the music that was blaring through the speakers.

“Do we have to go out tonight?” you’d groaned over FaceTime a few hours earlier. “It’s been such a long week. Can’t we just do a wine night and put on some movies?”

“We did that last week!” Shawna argued. “C’mon, I just got my nails done. Don’t let it be for nothing,” she teased, wiggling her manicured fingers in front of the camera.

“Besides,” Kelsey chimed in, “like you said, it has been a long week. We deserve a night out to unwind and treat ourselves.”

“Hopefully we’ll find other people to treat us,” Renee added cheekily, tossing her unruly dark curls over her shoulder as she winked.

“Besides, the girls at work told me this is a really fun bar. Apparently it’s where all the hotties from North Island go after work,” Shawna giggled.

Your former college roommate had just started a new nursing job at Naval Medical Center San Diego, so if anyone was going to know where the hot Navy guys spent their off hours, it would be her.

“It’s settled! We’re going to The Hard Deck, ladies,” Renee grinned, blowing you all a kiss. “Meet at my place at 8 and we’ll Uber over.”

As much as you would have preferred to stay at home tonight, you had to admit that Shawna hadn’t been wrong. From the moment you’d stepped foot inside The Hard Deck, you’d been amazed at the sheer number of attractive men crowding the space. You certainly never found men like this when you hit the bars downtown.

Renee, ever the mastermind when it came to scoping out the most advantageous situations, quickly managed to grab your group a table smack in the middle of the room. It had an excellent vantage point that not only made you most visible to the bar’s patrons, but also gave you a perfect view of the pool table, the dart boards, and the bar all at once.

“Cheers, ladies!” Kelsey exclaimed once you were all seated with your first round of drinks. “And a special toast to Shawna for telling us about this place!” she added with a grin, holding up her glass of hard cider.

The rest of you held up your drinks—Renee had opted for a bottle of Coors, Shawna had gone with an IPA, and you had chosen a High Noon—and clinked them together with a celebratory “Cheers!”

“Tonight’s the night that you’re finally going to find yourself a man,” Shawna told you, turning to you and playfully poking you in the side.

“Yes, it is!” Renee nodded in agreement, winking at you from across the table as she took a sip of her beer.

“Take your pick, babe,” Kelsey added, waving her hand to encompass the whole bar. “I’ve literally never seen so many gorgeous guys all in one place. And in uniform, too!”

You felt the back of your neck prickling and your skin growing warm at your friends’ expectant stares, a weak smile gracing your lips as you took a sip of your drink. It always ended up being like this. You loved your friends, and you knew they meant well, but they had no idea what it was like to be in your shoes.

The four of you had been best friends since college, despite the fact that you couldn’t have been more different from one another if you tried. Kelsey always joked that your four personalities combined helped to balance each other out.

Despite their differences in looks, style, and demeanor, Shawna, Renee, and Kelsey did all have one thing in common that you had never seemed to possess—the ability to turn men’s heads no matter where they were.

Shawna had the perfectly sweet girl-next-door vibe going on. With her strawberry blonde locks, big blue eyes, dusting of freckles, and curvy figure, she always attracted guys like bees to a flower.

At any given time, Kelsey looked like she had just walked off the runway. Even in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, she managed to look chic. With her tall, willowy figure, sleek dark brown bob, almond-shaped eyes, and lips that never needed lipstick, she had men drooling all over her.

Arguably the most exuberant member of the group was Renee, who had been a firecracker for as long as you had known her. The only thing bigger than her laugh was her smile, and she had the most gorgeous ebony curls that contrasted perfectly with her cinnamon-colored skin. Paired with her petite figure, she drew men in like moths to a flame.

And then there was you. Quiet, shy, bookish you. Throughout college, people had often commented that you seemed like the most grounded out of all your friends, but you knew what that really meant. You were boring. And you knew what people were really trying to say—how had you become friends with such fun-loving girls?

You loved your friends more than anything, and you were grateful for the ways they’d helped you come out of your shell since college. But you’d be lying if you said going out to bars with them wasn’t challenging at times.

They all knew how to light up a room, how to flirt and talk to random strangers and get phone numbers from the hottest men you’d ever seen. You—didn’t know how to do any of that.

You’d tried over the years, you really had. Mainly at the girls’ insistence. You made an effort to flirt with the guys they introduced you to, or strike up conversations with random cuties at your favorite coffee shop, but it never seemed to work for you the way that it did for your friends. And guys never approached you the way they did Shawna and Kelsey and Renee.

The most painful experience had been a couple months ago, when a guy had come up to you while you were waiting to order a drink, smiling and chatting in a way that had you thinking he was interested. Your heart had soared inside your chest, only to crash a few moments later when he asked, “So, is your friend single?” while pointing at Kelsey.

You hadn’t told any of your friends about that encounter. You knew they’d just feel bad and you didn’t want them to. They were desperate to find somebody for you, and you didn’t have the heart to tell them that you’d given up hoping for that a long time ago. They just wouldn’t understand. They went on dates all the time. You were just the one guys approached to inquire after their relationship statuses.

“Don’t give us that look,” Renee told you, shaking her head and pointing an accusatory finger at you as you attempted to slink down in your seat. “You look hot tonight, and you need to show it off!”

“You do,” Shawna nodded vehemently, nudging you in the side again until you sat up straight. “I love that top.”

“See? I told you it was a solid purchase,” Kelsey winked, as she had been the one to convince you to buy the top in question when the two of you had gone shopping a couple weeks ago.

Despite your lack of hopefulness, you had put a good deal of effort into your appearance tonight. You couldn’t help it. A bar full of hot guys in sexy uniforms? You’d be crazy not to try. You’d spent over an hour on your hair and make-up, and had decided to finally take the tags off the top Kelsey had convinced you to buy. The neckline flattered your figure and hugged your body in all the right places. You’d coupled it with a pair of high-waisted jeans and strappy sandals to show off your pedicure. Even you had to admit that you looked good, but you still hadn’t seemed to catch the eye of any guy in the bar.

“Let’s just enjoy the night and focus on us,” you said, trying to deflect your friends’ intense attention. “If anybody else happens to come along, then so be it.”

The girls all shot you dissatisfied looks, but didn’t push the point any further. Shawna started regaling you all with stories from her new job, which allowed you to let out a soft sigh of relief.

As the night went on, you tried your best not to grow discouraged, but it was getting harder and harder. Countless guys had passed by your table, stopping to flirt with Renee or Kelsey or Shawna, or even all three, but their eyes skipped over you like you were invisible. Whenever your friends tried to direct their attention your way, they smiled politely before instantly turning back to the actual objects of their attraction. Every time you got up to use the bathroom or order another round at the bar, you attempted to smile and make eye contact and appear open and interested, all the things your friends had been telling you to do for years, but none of it worked.

At that point, all you wanted to do was go home, put on your pajamas, and live vicariously through a good rom com.

You were about to tell your friends that you were going to get going when one of the bartenders—if you’d heard correctly earlier, she might have been the owner—approached your table with a tray full of drinks, a smile gracing her lovely face.

“Ladies, these are for you,” she said, setting down a cider for Kelsey, a Coors for Renee, an IPA for Shawna, and a High Noon for you.

“Oh,” Shawna said, her blue eyes widening in surprise. “I think there might have been a mistake. We didn’t order another round, did we?” she asked, looking at the rest of you.

“Not that we won’t take them,” Renee chimed in with that bright laugh of hers.

The woman smiled at the four of you. “No mistake. These drinks are compliments of the group over there,” she chuckled, pointing at a group of officers clustered around the pool table.

The four of you turned your gazes in the direction she was pointing, your friends letting out various sounds of delighted surprise when they realized the men in question looked as though they had just been featured on the cover of Men’s Health magazine.

“Oh, we’ll definitely take them!” Renee beamed, flipping her dark curls over her shoulder.

“Thank you,” Kelsey grinned up at the older woman gratefully.

“Of course,” she nodded, tucking her empty tray under her arm. She leaned in a little closer with a conspiratorial smile and whispered, “I’ll vouch for the fact that they’re good guys. But if they act like idiots, just come find me. My name is Penny.”

“Thanks, Penny,” Shawna giggled, reaching for her new drink. “We owe you one!”

Penny winked at you before heading back to the bar, which was surrounded by thirsty customers. Business was booming. If Penny was the owner as you suspected, then she must have been doing quite well.

“Should we go thank them for the drinks?” Shawna grinned, chewing on her lower lip as she glanced in the direction of the handsome officers at the pool table.

“Not yet,” Renee decided, smirking mischievously. “We’ll let them sweat it out a little bit first.”

“Renee!” Kelsey laughed, lightly smacking her on the arm.

“What? You know it’ll work. They’ll be eating out of the palms of our hands,” Renee grinned, taking a hearty sip of her Coors.

“They look cute,” you ventured, though your palms were already sweating at the thought of approaching them. You highly doubted any of them would be eating out of your clammy palms.

Clearly you shouldn’t have said anything, because suddenly all three of your friends were pouncing on you like ravenous wolves.

“Which one do you think is the cutest?”

“Do you see one you like?”

“Claim one now before we get over there!”

Their words loudly overlapped one another, to the point that you had to resist the urge to cover your ears with your hands.

“I—I—I don’t know!” you exclaimed, feeling your skin grow warm with embarrassment. You hated being the center of attention. “I just meant—I mean, they look cute for you guys.”

“Um, last I checked, you were just as single as the rest of us. Why wouldn’t they be cute for you, too?” Kelsey demanded, raising one of her perfectly waxed eyebrows.

“Please, you guys, let’s just drop it. I’m probably going to start heading home soon anyway,” you told them, sliding down in your seat and wishing the ground would swallow you whole.

“What? No, you can’t!” Renee and Shawna practically cried in unison.

“C’mon, we’ll go over to them now,” Renee decided, grabbing her drink and her purse. “You can’t leave yet,” she insisted.

Kelsey and Shawna nodded, grabbing their things and following suit, nearly having to drag you out of your seat to get you to come with them.

“Well, well, well, fellas,” smirked a blonde-headed officer as the four of you approached the pool table. “Looks like our little gift didn’t go unnoticed after all.”

Glancing down quickly, you spotted the name printed on his nameplate—Seresin. He was extremely handsome in that clean-cut, All-American way, with his perfectly coiffed blonde hair, sparkling green eyes, and charming smile.

Renee, who always ended up being your group’s fearless leader, smirked in return as she stepped to the head of the pack. “Well, well, well, ladies. Looks like the guys who sent us those drinks aren’t half bad after all,” she said, resting a hand on her hip as she gazed up at the blonde man, challenge twinkling in her dark eyes. “Even if they weren’t brave enough to come bring us the drinks themselves.”

Kelsey and Shawna stood on either side of her, giggling softly, while you hung near the back, staring down at your feet as your cheeks burned hot.

“Most of us aren’t half bad. I can’t speak for Hangman here,” another voice piped up, deep and gravelly. You could sense, rather than see, Kelsey’s ears pricking up at the sound.

Glancing up, you saw another handsome man standing before you, looking every inch Kelsey’s type with his sunkissed brown hair, broad shoulders, tanned skin, and easygoing smile. If you knew Kelsey, you knew she was already imagining what that mustache would feel like against her lips. You clocked his nameplate as well—Bradshaw.

“Hangman?” Renee asked coquettishly, quirking an eyebrow as she glanced between the two men.

“My callsign,” the blonde cut in smoothly, pool cue still in hand. It was clear that while he and Bradshaw might be buddies, there was still a sense of competition between the two.

“Ah, callsigns. You’re fighter pilots,” Shawna commented, grinning knowingly. Thank goodness for her job at NMCSD. She was much more in the know than any of the rest of you.

“Not just any fighter pilots. The best fighter pilots,” came another voice from the other side of the pool table. When Hangman stepped to the side, you saw it belonged to a guy whose jawline looked like it could cut glass and whose smile could melt butter. His nameplate read Machado.

“Oh, yeah?” Kelsey asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “And who determines that?”

“The Navy,” Bradshaw replied smoothly, stepping a little closer to your statuesque friend. “We’re all TOPGUN graduates. The top 1%.”

“Hmm, and humble, too,” Kelsey laughed, delicately resting her hand on his arm as she did so. “So what’s your callsign then?”

“Rooster,” the mustached man told her, chest puffing out with pride. “But I’m being awfully rude. I didn’t catch your name,” he said, holding out his large hand.

“Kelsey,” she replied, her dark eyes twinkling as she slipped her hand into his.

You watched as, almost instantly, your friends partnered off quite naturally with the handsome aviators. Renee and Hangman were already bickering about the best way to sink the 8 ball, Kelsey and Rooster were talking about music near the window, and Shawna was flirting up a storm with Machado, whose callsign turned out to be Coyote.

Your stomach sank as you realized that you were suddenly on your own. As usual. Not that you resented your friends getting to flirt with cute guys. You always cheered them on when they met someone new, and you were always there to celebrate with them. You just wished that, for once, they had a reason to celebrate with you.

Glancing around, you saw that there were several other officers hanging around the pool table, though most of them seemed to be engrossed in their own conversations. No one was paying you any mind. And suddenly you felt like crying.

What was wrong with you? Was there something about you that just naturally repelled handsome men? Your friends were constantly telling you how beautiful you were, but that was hard to believe when you were the only one who never got hit on, never got asked out, never felt special or seen by anybody.

It was time to go home. You could feel the tears stinging the backs of your eyes, and the last thing you needed was to start bawling in the middle of a Navy bar. No one would notice if you just slipped away. You’d text your friends in the Uber and ask them to let you know how the rest of their night went. It always ended up being like this, and you weren’t sure why you had thought tonight would be any different.

Silently leaving your drink on the table with your friends’ things, you turned and began snaking your way through the crowd, trying to get to the bar so that you could close out your tab. Before you could get there, however, someone bumped into you from behind, sending your purse flying out of your hands.

Sighing softly, you dropped down to your hands and knees, praying you wouldn’t get stomped on as you tried to reach for it. Just as your hand was hovering over it, however, a much larger hand closed down around it and lifted it up.

Before you could shout for help, that same hand was hovering in front of your face, silently offering to help you up off the sticky bar floor. You lifted your head and your heart skipped a beat at the man who was gazing down at you. He had sandy brown hair, big blue eyes magnified behind a pair of military-issued glasses, and ruddy cheeks, an uncertain smile on his handsome face.

Wordlessly, you took his hand and allowed him to pull you back up to your feet. He was even taller than you had originally thought from your position down on the ground.

“Are you alright?” he asked loudly, trying to be heard over the din of the crowd.

“Yes,” you yelled back, nodding your head on the off-chance he hadn’t heard you. “Thank you,” you added.

“I’m guessing you were looking for this?” he went on, holding up your purse in his other hand.

You nodded again, accepting your bag with a grateful smile. “I guess I’m just a klutz,” you told him sheepishly, the realization dawning that this man had literally just witnessed you crawling on a grimy bar floor.

He smiled in response, which only made him look all the more handsome. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said, shaking his head. “Someone bumped into you.”

He had seen that? Had he actually been paying attention to you? Or did he just happen to be nearby?

“Well, thank you. I appreciate it,” you murmured, nervously fiddling with one of your bracelets as you glanced over at the bar.

He followed your gaze, his expression conflicted. “Well I don’t want to hold you up,” he told you, sounding vaguely disappointed.

Your head whipped back in his direction. “Oh, no! I mean, you’re not. I was just trying to get to the bar to close my tab.”

Were you losing your mind or did he really look disappointed now?

“Oh, you’re leaving?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder. “I, um, I thought I saw you with the girls who were hanging out with my friends,” he explained, indicating the group at the pool table with his thumb.

He was a part of that group? Was this a sign that maybe you shouldn’t leave after all?

“Oh, um, yeah,” you nodded, chewing on your bottom lip as you tried to think of what to say. “I just, um…well, it’s kind of loud in here and I just…” Your sentence trailed off as you realized how lame you sounded.

“Would you like to maybe go outside for a minute?” he suggested. When you hesitated, he stammered, “I mean, of course you don’t have to. I’m sorry. I mean, obviously you just want to get out of here and I’m—”

“No,” you cut him off, briefly brushing your fingers against his arm. “I mean, I would like that,” you clarified with a shy smile.

“Oh,” he blinked, looking a little surprised. But then he brightened instantly, his bright blue eyes shining as he smiled at you in return. “I’m Bob, by the way. Bob Floyd,” he introduced himself, holding out his hand to you.

Slipping your hand into his, you smiled wider as you told him your name, beaming when he repeated it back to you and told you it was pretty.

“So do you have a callsign, too, Bob?” you asked curiously as he led you through the crowd and towards one of the back doors that faced the beach. “Your friends were telling me and my friends their callsigns earlier.”

“Oh, um, yeah,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck as he held open the door that led to a little back patio with picnic tables. It was relatively empty, except for a few people hanging out in the sand. “My callsign is Bob. Original, I know,” he said with a self-deprecating laugh, as if he was used to being made fun of for it.

In that instant, you felt a deep sense of connectedness to him that you couldn’t explain. Maybe it was the way he ducked his head and averted his gaze, like he was trying to hide, or the way he nervously shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose, but you were suddenly certain that no one understood what it felt like to be in your shoes more than he did. To be overlooked, forgotten, underestimated. To be uncomfortable in your own skin because you were so certain you were never going to be enough for people.

“I like it,” you told him with a smile.

“Thank you,” he replied sincerely, looking caught off guard and surprised by your words once again.

The two of you wandered over to one of the picnic tables and took seats opposite each other, the fairy lights strung up outside illuminating his features as he gazed at you.

“Is this your first time at The Hard Deck?” he asked curiously, resting his elbows on the table. “I feel like I’d remember seeing you.”

You bit down on your lower lip to hide your smile, his words warming you from the inside out. “It is, actually. It was my friend Shawna’s idea to come tonight. She just recently started working at NMCSD and some of her co-workers told her this was a good spot.”

“It is,” Bob nodded, smiling at you. “Penny Benjamin, the owner, is a good woman and she always makes sure to look out for us.”

“I’m guessing this is a regular spot for you guys then?” you questioned, glancing up and spotting your friends through one of the windows. They looked like they were still having a good time with the aviators they’d found.

“Pretty much, yeah,” he chuckled. “It’s been almost a year since I’ve been back in San Diego. I was at TOPGUN a few years ago, then got stationed at Lemoore, then got called back to TOPGUN last October for a special mission, then got asked to stay on permanently with my new squadron. The Hard Deck has become like a second home,” he joked.

You laughed softly, charmed by the way he told you the story without a trace of arrogance or conceit. Clearly, he was one of the Navy’s best pilots if he had been called to TOPGUN not once, but twice, but he wasn’t bragging or boasting. He was just stating the facts.

As if he could read your mind, Bob explained, “I’m actually not a pilot. I’m a Weapons Systems Officer. I ride in the rear of the jet and deal with navigation and operating the aircraft system. I wanted to be a pilot when I was young, but my vision’s always been a problem. I’m proud to be a WSO though. And I have a great partner.”

“I think that sounds really impressive,” you told him honestly, reaching out and resting your hand over his. “I’m sure that takes a tremendous amount of skill and talent. If it was up to me, we’d never make it off the ground,” you grinned.

Bob smiled in return. “I’m sure you’d get the hang of it real quick. You seem really smart,” he said, the tips of his ears turning red as he ducked his head slightly. “So, uh, what do you do?”

“I’m a teacher,” you replied. “I teach history to middle schoolers.”

“Now that’s something I’m sure takes a tremendous amount of skill and talent. Just the thought of middle schoolers terrifies me,” he admitted, which made both of you laugh. “And history, too, huh? I love history. It was always my favorite subject in school.”

“Really?” you asked excitedly. It was rare that you found someone who enjoyed geeking out over history as much as you did.

“Absolutely. If I hadn’t gone into the Navy, I would have loved working in a museum or something. Maybe being a teacher, but like I said—middle schoolers terrify me,” he grinned, his eyes crinkling.

“There’s always high school,” you pointed out with a smile.

“Even worse!” he exclaimed, which made you dissolve into a fit of giggles.

The two of you sat in companionable silence for a few moments, taking in the sound of the ocean waves and the faint trickle of music coming from inside the bar.

“Is that a piano?” you asked when the sound of the music registered in your ears.

“Sounds like Rooster is already trying to show off to your friend,” Bob teased, glancing over his shoulder as the door opened and a small group of rowdy sailors made their way outside.

“Trust me, Kelsey is probably eating it all up right now,” you assured him with a knowing look.

“My friends are very smooth with the ladies, but they’re also good guys, I promise. Your friends are in good hands,” he told you.

“It’s funny, Penny told us the same thing earlier,” you said.

“Ah, well, no one’s more trustworthy than Penny,” Bob smiled.

You nodded and the two of you sat in silence once again. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, however. You didn’t feel the need to fill it with awkward chatter. You were more than happy to just sit there with him, enjoying the cool evening air and listening to the sound of the waves lapping against the shore.

Bob looked like something was on his mind, like he wanted to say something, but was holding back. When you met his eyes and cocked your head to the side curiously, however, he seemed to come to a decision.

“Why were you going to leave?”

You were a little taken aback by his question and immediately dropped your gaze to your lap, fiddling with the strap of your purse and trying to figure out how to answer his question in a way that didn’t make you sound completely pathetic.

“I’m sorry, that’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have asked that,” Bob chastised himself, shaking his head. “Please, just forget it.”

“No, um, it’s okay,” you reassured him, clearing your throat slightly. You suddenly wished you had thought to grab a cup of water before coming outside. “Um, I guess I just realized that my friends were really hitting it off with your friends, and I didn’t see any point in sticking around any longer.”

Bob seemed troubled by your response, a small crease appearing between his brows. “Wasn’t there anybody for you to talk to?”

You turned your face away in embarrassment. Things had been going so well. You didn’t want Bob to know what a wallflower you truly were.

“Um, no, not really. My friends are the ones guys usually want to talk to,” you admitted quietly, your voice nearly drowned out by the wind. Your mouth felt so dry, and your hands were sweaty as you wiped them against your jeans.

Bob fully frowned at that. “Guys should be lined up out the door to talk to you,” he said softly, his voice serious.

“That’s sweet of you to say,” you murmured, staring down at the table instead of meeting his eyes.

“I’m not just saying it,” Bob insisted, his tone so urgent that it actually caused you to lift your head up to look at him. “You’re sweet and kind and funny and smart and so beautiful. Guys would have to be insane not to want to talk to you. I’m honestly shocked you’re out here talking to me of all people.”

“Don’t say that,” you begged him, your heart hurting to think that other women didn’t appreciate the wonderful man sitting before you.

“I know that I’m not like my friends,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as he blushed furiously. “I know I’m not the kind of guy that girls want to talk to. So I know what it’s like to feel like you could just disappear in a place like this and nobody would notice. I hate that you feel that way, too.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. You had never met anyone before who seemed to know your thoughts so clearly, who could read your mind and understand everything you were feeling.

“Bob,” you breathed out, reaching across the table and clasping one of his hands between both of yours. “I think you’re a terrific guy. And the girls who can’t see that? It’s their loss.”

He smiled at that, his gaze fixed on your face as he rested his free hand over yours, brushing your knuckles with his thumb. “I’m really glad you didn’t leave.”

“I’m really glad you asked me to stay.”

He said nothing in response, just held your hand tighter as his blue eyes bore into yours, as if he was reading the very depths of your soul.

The air hung thick with tension as the two of you stared at one another, leaning in closer and closer until your lips had no choice but to meet, his mouth firm, but gentle as it closed over yours.

It was soft and sweet and chaste, but when the two of you pulled back, you were both stammering and blushing like a couple of schoolchildren.

The stillness of the moment was broken a moment later when your friends shoved open the door and spilled out onto the back patio.

“There you are!” Renee exclaimed, hands on her hips as she did her best impression of your mother. “You had us scared half to death!”

“I told you she was fine,” Shawna insisted, rolling her eyes and mouthing ‘Sorry!’ to you.

“See? Nothing to be worried about,” Kelsey added. “She’s with…” She let her sentence trail off, shooting you a look to make quick introductions.

“Um, Bob! This is Bob,” you quickly supplied, squeezing his hand and shooting him an apologetic look.

“She’s with Bob!” Kelsey said, poking Renee in the side.

“Floyd, there you are! We were wondering where the hell you got off to,” Hangman said, joining your group and wrapping an arm around Renee’s waist.

“I guess they did notice we disappeared after all,” you whispered to Bob with a knowing smile.

“Of course we did!” Kelsey butted in, smiling when Rooster stepped up behind her and slipped his hand into hers.

“We were all going to head back to my place for a midnight swim,” Shawna explained, beaming up at Coyote. Your friend’s apartment complex was the only one that had a pool, and her landlord was cool enough to allow residents to use it whenever they wanted, so long as they were mindful of the noise. “Invite your friend!”

Your cheeks grew warm as everyone stared at you expectantly. “Um, Bob, would you like to come swimming with us?”

“I’d love to,” Bob grinned, his eyes fixed on you and only you.

Your friends clapped and cheered, which made your cheeks grow all the hotter.

“C’mon, let’s go close our tabs. Jake’s paying for the Ubers,” Renee smirked, patting the blonde’s chest as she gazed up at him.

“Aww, thanks, Jake,” Coyote grinned, smacking his friend on the shoulder as he and Shawna headed back inside.

“Owe you one, man,” Rooster nodded, leading Kelsey back into the bar.

“Hey, wait a second—”

“That’s what you get for losing two rounds of pool,” Renee teased, planting a kiss on his cheek before dragging him back inside.

Once you and Bob were left alone in the blessed silence once more, you looked at each other and couldn’t help but crack up laughing.

“I think your friends have really met their matches in my friends,” you told him playfully, gathering your things and rising from the picnic table.

“I think so,” Bob nodded, rising as well. “But I think I really met my match in you.”

Smiling, you slipped your hand into his and beamed up at him. “I couldn’t agree more.”

And as you walked out of The Hard Deck hand-in-hand with Bob, catching the victorious looks and playful winks your friends were shooting your way, you found yourself very grateful for all the times it had never worked out for you before this. Because you were certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that Bob Floyd had been worth waiting for.

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #x reader #x female reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #lewis pullman

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mrsfancyferrari · 2 months ago

Text

Birthday Boy

Summary: It's getting to Max's birthday and you know what he wants for it.

Song: Heartbeat by Childish Gambino

Author’s note: DUDUDUDU MAX VERSTAPPEN! Please like, reblog and share this! <3

Word count: 4.8k

Max's birthday was just around the corner, and you found yourself in a fortunate position, having a few weeks off from work. This time away felt like a blessing, especially considering how close you and Max had grown recently.

The aftermath of your breakup had been tough, filled with emotional turmoil and countless tears. Yet, through it all, Max had been your rock, offering comfort and support.

You often found solace in his presence, spending nights in his bed while he opted for the couch, a testament to the deepening bond between you two.

It felt perfectly normal, a natural progression of friendship, or so you thought.

As you enjoyed a leisurely afternoon playing golf, the sun shining brightly overhead, Lily suddenly interrupted your thoughts with a loud exclamation.

"Absolutely not!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the serene atmosphere. You turned to her, puzzled, as she continued, "You can't just sleep in his bed like that! It’s not just friends hanging out; it’s crossing a line!"

Her words hung in the air, and you could feel the tension rising.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "Lily, me and him are just friends! It’s not like we’re planning a romantic getaway or anything," you replied, trying to lighten the mood.

Lily rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. "Fine, but just remember, boundaries are important!" she warned, her tone softening.

Lily leaned back, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she took a swing at the golf ball, sending it soaring into the bright blue sky. "You know, you and I both understand that Max is head over heels for you," she remarked casually, a teasing grin spreading across her face.

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, everything around you faded into the background. Your heart raced, a sudden flutter of disbelief and excitement coursing through you.

This was the first time anyone had ever suggested such a thing, and the thought sent your mind spiraling.

"What? Are you serious?" you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. The revelation felt like a jolt of electricity, igniting a mix of hope and confusion within you.

You had always thought of Max as a close friend, someone who shared laughter and late-night conversations, but the idea of him harboring deeper feelings was entirely new.

You could hardly process it, your thoughts racing as you tried to recall every interaction you’d had with him, searching for signs that you might have missed.

Lily chuckled, clearly enjoying your reaction. "What? You really didn’t know? Wow, you two are like two peas in a pod, completely oblivious to each other’s feelings," she teased, shaking her head in disbelief.

"It’s almost comical how you both dance around the truth. I mean, the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention? It’s like he’s trying to memorize every detail of your face."

Her words painted a vivid picture in your mind, and suddenly, the world felt a little brighter, filled with possibilities you had never dared to consider before.

As they lounged in the sun-drenched golf park, Lily leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You know, there’s a way to find out if he really likes you," she said, a playful grin spreading across her face.

The anticipation bubbled within you, and you leaned in, eager to hear more. "How?" you asked, your curiosity piqued.

Lily's expression turned conspiratorial as she glanced over at Alex, who was engrossed in a game of golf with Lando. "Guys secretly enjoy it when you gently cup their cheek or run your fingers through their hair," she explained, her voice low and teasing.

"That’s how I figured out that big guy over there was into me. It’s all about those little moments of connection." You watched Alex swing his club, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, and wondered if Max would respond the same way if you tried something similar.

"Just think about it," Lily continued, her tone light yet encouraging. "If he doesn’t like you, he’ll probably pull away or act all awkward. But if he does… well, you’ll definitely know."

She nudged you playfully, her laughter ringing out like music in the air.

The thought of testing the waters sent a thrill through you, and you couldn’t help but imagine the possibilities.

Would Max react positively?

The idea of a shared moment filled with unspoken feelings made your heart race, and you felt a surge of confidence at the prospect of taking that leap.

The anticipation bubbled within you, and you leaned in, eager to hear more. "How?" you asked, your curiosity piqued.

"Just think about it," Lily continued, her tone light yet encouraging. "If he doesn’t like you, he’ll probably pull away or act all awkward. But if he does… well, you’ll definitely know."

She nudged you playfully, her laughter ringing out like music in the air.

The thought of testing the waters sent a thrill through you, and you couldn’t help but imagine the possibilities.

Would Max react positively?

After the golf session was over, your phone buzzed with a text from Max.

"Hey, come over to my place. I’ve got something cool to show you," it read.

Your heart skipped a beat, excitement mingling with nerves as you replied with a quick, "Sure, be there soon!"

The drive to Max's house felt longer than usual, every passing minute filled with anticipation.

As the door swung open, Max stepped into view, his presence commanding immediate attention. His muscular physique was evident even beneath the casual attire he wore; a fitted t-shirt clung to his broad shoulders and sculpted arms, accentuating the definition of his biceps.

The fabric of his jeans hugged his powerful thighs, hinting at the strength that lay beneath. With a confident stance, he exuded an aura of both approachability and strength, making it clear that he was someone who took care of himself while still embracing a laid-back style.

Max's features were striking, framed by tousled hair that added a touch of rugged charm to his overall appearance. His chiseled jawline and high cheekbones gave him a classic handsomeness, while his warm smile revealed a friendly demeanor that put others at ease.

The way he carried himself suggested a blend of confidence and humility, as if he was fully aware of his physical prowess but chose to remain grounded.

The casual outfit he wore—a simple t-shirt paired with well-fitted jeans—allowed his natural charisma to shine through without overshadowing his approachable nature.

As he stood there, the light from the hallway illuminated his figure, casting a subtle glow that highlighted the contours of his muscles. Max's eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief, suggesting a playful spirit beneath his strong exterior.

When you arrived, Max greeted you at the door, his usual easygoing smile on his face

"Glad you could make it," he said, leading you inside. As you stepped into the cozy living room, you couldn't shake Lily's words from your mind.

You found yourself glancing at Max, wondering if this would be the right moment to test her theory.

"So, what’s the cool thing you wanted to show me?" you asked, trying to sound casual while your heart raced.

Max's grin widened, a spark of excitement lighting up his eyes. "Come on, I'll show you," he said, motioning for you to follow him further into the house. The anticipation in his voice was contagious, and you felt a thrill of curiosity pique your interest.

As you walked through the hallway, the walls adorned with photographs and memorabilia hinted at stories and adventures shared within these walls.

He led you to a room at the back of the house, the door slightly ajar.

Inside, the room was warmly lit, and the first thing you noticed were two cats, Jimmy and Sassy, lounging comfortably on a plush armchair. Their curious eyes followed your every movement, as if they, too, were eager to see what Max had in store.

Just beyond the armchair, on a small table, you spotted a beautiful bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates, elegantly arranged as if waiting for a special moment.

Max turned to you with a proud smile, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction. "You mentioned you've never gotten flowers or chocolates from anyone, so I wanted to change that," he said, his voice filled with genuine warmth.

The thoughtful gesture took you by surprise, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of emotion. Max's attention to detail and the effort he put into making you feel special spoke volumes, deepening the connection you felt with him.

"Oh Max, you shouldn't have," you muttered into your hands, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.

The warmth of his gesture melted away any lingering doubts, leaving you with a soft, glowing sensation in your chest. Max's eyes softened as he watched your reaction, clearly pleased with the effect his surprise had on you.

The room seemed to shrink, the world outside fading away as you stood there, enveloped in a bubble of shared affection and understanding.

Max stepped closer, his voice gentle and sincere. "I just wanted to make you feel appreciated because you deserve it," he said, reaching out to gently take your hand.

The touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself looking up into his eyes, feeling a connection that words could scarcely capture.

Overwhelmed by the depth of emotion his gesture had stirred within you, you found yourself stepping forward, wrapping your arms around Max in a heartfelt hug. His warmth enveloped you, and for a moment, it felt as though time had stopped.

Without thinking, you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, a spontaneous act that seemed to convey all the gratitude and affection words could not express.

Max's breath hitched ever so slightly, and when you pulled back, his eyes were shining with a mix of surprise and happiness.

He gazed at you with a softness that made your heart flutter, and it was clear that the moment had deepened the bond between you. "Thank you, Max," you whispered, your voice filled with emotion. "For everything."

Max smiled, a tender expression that spoke volumes, and he squeezed your hand reassuringly. The two of you stood there, silently promising each other that this was just the beginning of something truly special.

"I got you your favorite chocolates," Max muttered, a shy smile playing on his lips. You looked at him, puzzled.

"But they don't make them here?" you replied, confusion evident in your voice.

Max's smile widened as he watched the realization dawn on your face. "I had them specially ordered," he explained. "I know how much you love them, and I wanted to do something that would truly make you happy."

Your eyes widened in surprise as you processed his words. The effort and thoughtfulness behind his gesture left you speechless. "Max, I can't believe you went through all that trouble just for me," you said, your voice trembling with emotion.

He stepped closer, his hand still holding yours. "You're worth it," he replied softly. The sincerity in his eyes made your heart swell with gratitude and affection, solidifying the special bond that had formed between you.

Eventually, the two of you left the room and went to sit with each other on the sofa, leaving only a small space between you. The TV was on, but after ten minutes, neither of you was paying attention to it.

The quiet murmur of the show served as a background to your own thoughts and the unspoken emotions hanging in the air.

You glanced at Max, catching his eye, and he smiled softly, a silent acknowledgment of the shared moment. It felt as if the world outside had faded away, leaving just the two of you in this bubble of newfound connection.

You decided to try Lily's theory. "Max, there is something on your face," you muttered, not waiting for him to respond as you cupped his face with your hand.

He blinked in surprise, a puzzled look crossing his features as you gently brushed your thumb across his cheek. "What is it?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It's nothing," you replied, your eyes locking onto his. "I just wanted an excuse to be closer to you."

A blush spread across Max's cheeks, and he chuckled softly, the sound a mixture of relief and amusement. "You don't need an excuse," he murmured, leaning into your touch.

He closed his eyes and leaned against your hand, his breathing steady and calm. The warmth of his skin against your palm sent a comforting shiver down your spine.

You could feel the unspoken words that lingered in the air, the depth of emotions that neither of you had fully expressed yet. It was a moment of pure intimacy, a quiet understanding that spoke volumes more than any words could.

As the night wore on, the comforting presence of Max and the emotional weight of the evening began to take their toll. You felt your eyelids grow heavy, and before you knew it, you had drifted off to sleep on the couch, cradled by the warmth of the moment.

The last thing you remembered was the gentle rise and fall of Max's chest beside you, and the soft hum of the TV creating a soothing lullaby.

When you awoke, the first thing you noticed was the lingering scent of Max on the throw blanket draped over you. It was a mix of his cologne and something uniquely him, a smell that brought an immediate sense of comfort.

You blinked, trying to shake off the grogginess, and realized that Max was no longer beside you.

The room was quiet now, the TV turned off, and a sense of emptiness replaced the warmth that had been there earlier. . . .

The long-anticipated day had finally arrived: Max's birthday celebration. Although Max had expressed a desire for a low-key gathering, his friends Lando and Charles had other plans.

They were determined to throw him a memorable bash, and before he knew it, you found yourself hailing a taxi to a trendy club that promised an extravagant night. As the city lights blurred past the window, you felt a mix of excitement and anxiety bubbling within you.

What if Max didn’t enjoy the party? What if he felt overwhelmed? These thoughts raced through your mind as you approached the club, its vibrant atmosphere pulsating with music and laughter.

Stepping out of the taxi, you hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of uncertainty. The entrance loomed ahead, and the thrumming bass from inside made your heart race.

Just as you were about to gather your courage and walk in alone, you spotted a familiar figure leaning casually against the wall, seemingly lost in thought.

It was Max, his usual confident demeanor replaced by a hint of contemplation. You felt a wave of relief wash over you, and without thinking, you called out, "Max! What are you doing out here? Aren't you supposed to be inside celebrating?"

Your voice cut through the noise, and you watched as his expression shifted from one of mild annoyance to a bright, welcoming smile.

"I was waiting for you, of course," Max replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. The tension in your chest eased as he stepped closer, the warmth of his presence making the bustling club feel a little less intimidating.

"I thought I’d give you a chance to make a grand entrance," he teased, nudging you playfully.

You laughed, feeling the camaraderie between you two. "Well, I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long. I was just trying to muster the courage to walk in there," you admitted, gesturing toward the club.

Max chuckled, shaking his head. "You know I’d never let you face this alone. Let’s go in together. It’s my birthday, and I want you to enjoy it as much as I do."

As you both stepped inside, the club's vibrant energy enveloped you. Neon lights flickered overhead, casting colorful patterns across the dance floor where people moved rhythmically to the beat of the music.

The air was thick with the scent of cocktails and the sound of laughter, and you could see Charles at the bar while Lando was being the DJ, waving enthusiastically as soon as he spotted you.

You made your way through the crowd with Max by your side, feeling a little more at ease with each step. As you approached the bar, Charles greeted you with a wide grin and a raised eyebrow.

"Well, well, look who decided to grace us with their presence," he teased, his eyes darting between you and Max. "I was starting to think you two had run off for a private celebration of your own."

Max rolled his eyes playfully, nudging you with his elbow. "Oh, come on, Charles. You know we wouldn't miss your expertly mixed cocktails for anything," he retorted, reaching for a drink that Charles had just finished preparing.

You laughed, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks as Charles gave you a knowing wink. "Just saying, you two seem pretty inseparable tonight,"

Charles added with a chuckle. "But I'm glad you're here. Now let's get this party started!"

As you navigated through the bustling crowd, you felt a warm sense of connection as Max's fingers intertwined with yours. It was a surprising gesture, one that felt so unlike the sober Max you knew, who typically kept his distance in social situations.

Yet here he was, leading you through the throng of partygoers with an air of confidence that seemed to defy his usual demeanor.

"Can you believe I actually agreed to this?" he chuckled, glancing back at you with a playful smirk.

You could see the hint of discomfort in his eyes, but he was trying to make the best of it, and you admired him for that.

Max had been thrust into the role of the gracious host, forced to thank each guest for attending his birthday celebration, even though he had made it clear he wasn’t keen on the idea of a party in the first place.

"Thanks for coming! It means a lot," he said, his voice dripping with a forced cheerfulness as he greeted a group of friends. You could see the strain behind his smile, and it made you want to laugh and cry at the same time.

"You’re doing great," you whispered encouragingly, squeezing his hand tighter. He shot you a grateful glance, and for a moment, the weight of the party seemed to lift just a little.

As the night wore on, the inevitable questions began to surface. "So, are you two dating?" one of Max's friends asked, a teasing glint in their eye. Max's response was quick, a playful grin spreading across his face.

"Oh, absolutely! We’re planning a wedding next week," he joked, his tone light but his eyes darting to you for a reaction. You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a rush of warmth at the thought. "Or maybe we’ll just stick to being best friends," he added, shifting the conversation away with a wink.

You felt a mix of amusement and affection for him, knowing that beneath the humor, there was a genuine bond forming between you two, one that was becoming increasingly hard to define.

You liked Max more than you cared to admit, and each shared smile or inside joke only deepened that feeling. His ability to switch from playful banter to genuine warmth made your heart flutter in ways you hadn’t experienced before.

Tonight, seeing him step out of his comfort zone for the sake of others, you admired his resilience and adaptability. It was a side of him you rarely saw, but one that made you appreciate him even more.

As the party continued, you found yourself gravitating towards him, drawn by an invisible thread of mutual understanding and unspoken feelings. Every touch, every shared glance, seemed charged with a new, electric energy.

You wondered if he felt it too, or if you were simply projecting your own hopes onto the night.

Either way, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something significant was unfolding between you, something that went beyond the confines of friendship.

As the evening unfolded, you found yourself nursing a drink, careful not to indulge too much. The last thing you wanted was to wake up the next day regretting a bold confession of your feelings for Max.

The thought of revealing your heart to him sent a shiver down your spine, but the atmosphere was electric, and you could feel the tension building.

Lando, Charles, and a few others were gathered around, their laughter echoing through the room as they engaged in a lively game of truth or dare.

You were lost in your thoughts, contemplating the fine line between friendship and something more, when suddenly, a light tap on your shoulder jolted you back to reality.

“Hey, it’s your turn! Truth or dare?” Lando’s voice rang out, playful and teasing, pulling you from your reverie. You glanced around the circle, the eager faces of your friends urging you to make a choice.

“Um, dare,” you replied, a mix of excitement and apprehension bubbling within you. You felt a rush of adrenaline, as if the game itself was daring you to step outside your comfort zone.

Lando’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in closer, clearly relishing the moment. “I dare you to sit on Max’s lap for the rest of the night and kiss him,” he declared, a knowing grin spreading across his face.

Your heart raced at the suggestion, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. The room fell silent for a moment, all eyes on you, waiting for your reaction. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and thrill coursing through your veins.

Max, sitting just a few feet away, looked equally surprised, his expression a blend of curiosity and amusement. “You heard him,” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

With a deep breath, you made your way over to Max, your heart pounding in your chest. As you settled onto his lap, the world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you in that electrifying moment.

The laughter of your friends faded into the background as you leaned in, your lips brushing against his, igniting a spark that had been waiting to be unleashed.

Max immediately cupped your cheek with one hand, his touch sending a jolt of warmth through you, while his other hand rested on your waist, pulling you a little closer.

The connection between you was undeniable, a magnetic force that neither of you could resist.

His lips pressed against yours with a tenderness that made your heart flutter, and for a moment, it felt as though time had stopped.

As you pulled back slightly, your eyes met his, and an unspoken understanding passed between you. The room erupted in cheers and applause, but their sounds were distant, muffled by the intensity of the moment you shared.

Max's eyes held a newfound softness, a hint of vulnerability that mirrored your own.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

"Max, you're drunk. You don't mean that," you dismissed his words with a nervous laugh, though your heart was pounding even harder at his confession.

You tried to brush it off, convincing yourself it was just the alcohol talking, but the sincerity in his eyes made it difficult to ignore. Your mind raced, torn between the desire to believe him and the fear of what it might mean if he was telling the truth.

Max's hand remained on your waist, holding you in place as he shook his head slowly. "No, I mean it," he insisted, his voice steady despite the slight slur of intoxication.

"I've always felt something for you, but I never had the courage to say it. Tonight just gave me the push I needed."

The vulnerability in his gaze was unmistakable, and in that moment, you realized that perhaps the alcohol had simply loosened his tongue, allowing him to finally voice what had been in his heart all along.

Your breath caught in your throat as you looked into his earnest eyes, and you felt a wave of emotions crash over you. "Max," you began softly, "I've felt it too, but I was always too scared to admit it."

His grip on you tightened slightly, a silent encouragement, and you continued, "Maybe we should talk about this when we're both sober, but I don't want to ignore what we're feeling right now."

"Will you say the same thing tomorrow?" Max asked, his voice tinged with fear. You could feel the weight of his question, the uncertainty that mirrored your own.

"I promise, I'll still feel the same," you replied softly, your heart hammering in your chest. "But let's give ourselves a chance to wake up and see if this moment is just as real in the light of day."

"Tomorrow, you might just earn yourself a girlfriend," you added with a playful smirk, trying to lighten the mood. Max's eyes sparkled with a mixture of hope and relief.

"Want to get a taste of her before the night ends?" you asked, leaning in closer.

The tension melted away as he pulled you into another kiss, this one filled with a newfound certainty. The world around you faded once more, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of shared emotions and possibilities.

"Get a room!" Lando yelled from across the bar, his voice cutting through the intimate moment. Max didn't miss a beat, raising his hand to give Lando the middle finger while still kissing you.

You couldn't help but laugh against his lips, the absurdity of the situation adding a light-hearted touch to the intense emotions swirling between you.

As you finally pulled away, both of you breathless and grinning, Max's eyes held a promise of tomorrow. "Let's get out of here," he whispered, his forehead resting against yours.

"I want to spend the rest of my birthday with you, just us." You nodded, your heart full and your mind clear for the first time in a long while.

Together, you made your way out, hand in hand, ready to face whatever the morning would bring. . . .

586 notes · View notes

prentissluvr · 6 months ago

Text

something about being close — sam winchester

pairing : s.2!sam winchester x gn!reader, featuring platonic dean ➖⟢ genre : angst, fluff, ➖⟢ cw : sam and reader are lovingly mean to each other, bad insults (weird, stupid, lame), bad jokes, swearing, canon typical violence and ghosts, arguing, so much kissing, could be ooc but idc, edited but most likely still contains a few mistakes, single usage of y/n ➖⟢ wc : 9.5K summary : sam is acting weird, and when it puts people in danger, you can't let it slide (despite the fact that you're totally in love with him).

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

“hey, check this out,” sam calls to you and dean, not bothering to look up from his computer screen. “think we found our violent spirit.” you part from your own research without a single qualm, resting a hand on the back of sam’s chair as he leans back for you and dean to get a better look. “marissa hancock. she was a student at the college, died a violent death there, just like we thought. it’s thought that the janitor impaled her with his mop while he was working in her dorm hall, but he was never put away for lack of evidence.”

“explains the janitor kabob,” dean quips, already headed to shrug on his jacket.

“easy solve,” you admit. it only took a solid half hour of searching through records to find the right murder. “but why’s she killing now? she’s had, what?” you lean further over sam’s shoulder to inspect the record, “fifty some years to be killing janitors, why start now?”

“dunno,” sam shrugs, and you can feel his shoulder brush against you, reminding you how close he is. doing your best to stay casual and maybe not stare longingly at his pretty face from this close up, you straighten your back and go to grab your own jacket as sam types away on his keyboard. “looks like her original murderer died two weeks ago.”

“right when the killings started,” dean finishes. “alright, let’s go. you got where she’s buried, sam?”

“yep,” he stands, shutting his laptop. “saint mercy cemetery, not too far.”

“hm,” you laugh out, “second saint mercy cemetery this month. people need to get more creative,” you note as you exit the motel room and head down the short hallway to get to the impala.

“and what would you name a cemetery?” dean asks, ready to catch you off guard or tease you for anything he can get his hands on.

“i should have thought of a clever answer before saying that,” you admit, “but i do wish it were socially acceptable to call them dead people neighborhoods.”

“that’s lame,” sam grins, throwing his arm around your shoulders for just about two seconds before he has to let go to get through the small doorway and outside.

“c’mon,” you complain, “i know it’s kind of lame, and definitely insensitive, but imagine someone just asked you where you’re headed after work and you get to tell them you’re going to the dead people neighborhood. cemetery’s no fun, at least dead people neighborhood is accurate.” you close the back door of the car behind you as you settle in to punctuate your point.

“you’re weird,” sam teases in a matter-of-fact tone, not even looking back from the passenger's seat to see the sneer on your face.

“no, you’re weird,” you fire back.

“alright, kids,” dean interrupts, “enough bickering like we’re four, we’ve got a job to do,” he snickers as he backs the car up.

“okay, dean,” you and sam chime, voices full of mocking and almost totally in sync. dean rolls his eyes hard, because it’s just one of those days where the two of you can’t stop feeding into the antics of the other, regressing the combined mental age of the three of you by at least twenty years.

having known the brothers since you were kids through bobby, and starting to hunt with them about a year and a half ago, you’ve certainly grown close with the both of them. but a little closer in age, you and sam are nothing but two peas in a pod. and much to dean’s chagrin, that means it only takes a split second for the two of you to switch things up and turn against him when he tries to break up your banter. it’s pretty much all loving argumentation, of course, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t annoying as all hell for whoever has to witness it.

“and for the record, i like dead people neighborhood,” dean offers, ignoring your moment of synchronicity with sam.

“yes!” you celebrate, reaching around the seat in front of you to lightly hit sam’s shoulder. “you’re the lame one, you’re no fun.”

he scoffs, mumbling something to himself about how, “of course dean likes dead people neighborhood. it’s stupid.”

you resist the urge to tell him that he’s stupid, and instead follow dean’s direction to focus on the case.

“hold on, dean. you should drop me off on campus first, one of us should make sure another janitor doesn’t fall on his mop handle before we can burn the bones,” you suggest.

“no.”

your brow furrows at how fast sam shuts you down, his serious tone a harsh contrast to his practically whiny mumble moments before. you glance at dean to see that he’s got his own eyebrows raised in confusion.

“what’d’you mean, ‘no’?” you question.

“i mean,” he clears his throat as if he’s just realized his strong denial was awkward, “that that could be dangerous alone, so i’ll go and you can stick with dean.”

you send a bewildered look to dean, one he doesn’t catch trying to pay attention to the street name up ahead. “i’m sorry, are you suggesting i can’t handle a measly ghost?” mostly you’re confused by sam’s words, but you can’t help letting a bit of offense slip into your voice.

“n-no, no that’s not what i’m saying,” he fumbles, trying to fix what he said, “i meant– i meant it would be safer for anyone not to go alone. so– so i’ll go with you and dean can stick with burning the body.”

it’s a clumsy, bad save that’s entirely unconvincing.

“you’re seriously gonna stick me with grave digging duty?” dean grunts, “y/n’s right, it’s just one ghost, we don’t need two of us to deal with it. digging up a grave is arguably harder.”

“exactly,” you reason, “which is why i should go scope out the dorm hall, and you should go with dean to the dead people neighborhood.”

“she’s buried in a family mausoleum,” counters sam, “her grave doesn’t need to be dug up, which means it’s a one person job, and since there could be an actual violent ghost in the dorm, two people should go. and don’t try to make dead people neighborhood a thing, at the very least it’s too long, not to mention it’s not funny.”

despite the fact that he’s teasing you, you’re glad to hear something normal come out of his mouth. his hesitancy to let you take on the ghost is odd, especially considering the ghost might not show up at all. it’s not like he’s never been protective of you, it’s in both his and certainly dean’s nature. but he knows full well that you are completely capable of handling one violent ghost, and he’s been weird like this for the past two weeks.

you laugh when you admit, “it wasn’t quite as good in context as i thought it would be, but it wasn’t that bad, i’m just tryna to stick with my bit,” you defend, “and fine, two people at the dorms, one on dead person arson.”

“are you serious?” sam laughs, halfheartedly tossing his head back to give you a judgemental look through the corner of his eye.

“dead serious, pun absolutely intended,” you let out a full laugh at the strangled sigh he lets out. oh how you love to rile him up with bad jokes. “you’re too easy, sam. for that, i’m sticking you on grave duty. dean and i will handle the dorm.”

“you should be on grave duty, for all the bad jokes today,” he argues.

dean practically growls in annoyance, “how about i go on grave duty, so i can get away from your annoying asses.” it’s not a suggestion, and the both of you huff out a sigh, but don’t argue.

dean drops you off a little ways from the dorm hall for you to grab a shotgun and salt rounds with less of a chance of being seen. you leave the other shotgun for dean just in case, bothered that yours is still broken from the last hunt. there hadn’t been enough time to fix it yet. so, you grab an iron rod, hoping to use that before any guns on a college campus. it’d be a sticky situation to get out of, being caught with shotguns in a dorm, and at the very least incredibly inconvenient to scare the hell out of a bunch of college aged kids at eleven pm. sam sticks the shotgun under his jacket, generally hiding it from the view of anyone not looking too closely.

walking a few minutes, you find the right dorm hall and sam hands the gun off to you to pull out his lock pick. but, glancing behind you, you shove the gun back into his hands and yank him into you.

“the hell?” he resists for a split second before you quickly interrupt him.

“shut up! hide the gun and act like you’re piss drunk. someone’s coming,” you hiss. in a swift movement, he tucks the gun back under his jacket as you shimmy the iron rod into your sleeve, then he swings his free arm around you, practically dropping half of his weight on you. “dude,” you complain, before falling into character. “sammy, come on!” you whine loudly. “i can’t reach my id with you like this,” you pretend to feel around for something in your back pocket while keeping him standing, and he immediately picks up on what you’re trying to do. he stumbles forward so that you have to use both hands to keep him upright, and you curse at your false struggle. “help me out here, sammy, will you?” you try to make your voice sound overly desperate, maybe a little innocent too, “why don’t you lean against the wall so we can get inside,” you beg, trusting sam to play his part well.

“nooo,” he slurs, dragging the word out in a whiny pitch, “don’t wanna.” he turns into you and haphazardly wraps his lanky arm all the way around your form, tugging you to him and nearly knocking the both of you over. you feel heat rush to your cheeks at this and desperately remind yourself that he’s only pressing his face into your neck so that he can get a look at the person approaching and keep the shotgun well hidden from view.

you see the girl out of the corner of your eye, young and clearly a student headed for the dorm.

“oh, thank god!” you exclaim, “hey, i’m so sorry to bother you, but do you think you could open the door for us?” you ask as sweetly as you can, pulling your eyebrows together to gain sympathy, before adding on a humorous tone, “my boyfriend is stupid drunk and i can’t get us inside.” you can feel sam stiffen for a split second at your words, and you yourself wonder if you should have just gone the “friend” route for the sake of your own sanity. you’re going to want to keep calling sam your boyfriend, over and over again.

“oh my god, of course,” she laughs goodnaturedly, and you thank the lord she’s laid back, rather than some uptight rule follower ready to report you to administration. she swipes her id and holds the door open for you, and as you struggle into the building, you think that sam is making this harder for you than it has to be. but there’s absolutely no denying you love the way it feels to just have him all over you, even for the sake of illegally entering a building with a gun.

“thank you so much,” your voice is one big sigh of relief, slightly muffled by the fabric of sam’s jacket.

“yeah, don’t worry about it,” she smiles, “you two are super cute, by the way,” she compliments before turning towards the stairs and waving a kind goodbye.

you do your best to not stumble over your words as you thank her, heat once again rising to your face, and you’re sure that sam can feel the warmth of your neck. body stiff, you turn and head down the hallway in the opposite direction, sam still clinging to you until it’s clear.

“alright, get off, you big dork,” you snort, gently pushing him away and doing your best to regain your composure to proceed as if you don’t have a massive crush on him. “did ya have to make it so hard for me?”

he shrugs with a sly grin, “had to make it convincing, didn’t i? besides, it was your idea, you don’t get to complain.”

you stick your tongue out at him and he raises his eyebrows as if to say, “really?”

“she was really nice,” you note, voice almost wistful in a way that sam easily picks up on. about a year into hunting with the brothers and dean was off buying food, you and sam had collapsed onto a motel bed together as you had many times before by then, both exhausted after a long case. that night, as you spoke in tired, hushed tones, with no need for anyone but the other to hear your words, you had somehow ended up with your head resting on his biceps and one of his legs swung over yours.

that’s the night you told him you were jealous that he got to go to college, even if it wasn’t for long. you’d told him how you liked the idea of that life, even if you had to return to hunting after it was over. you wanted friends your age, to learn, go to stupid parties and have a college partner. you knew the experience wasn’t all rainbows and butterflies, but you wanted it anyway. he’d said, sure, it wasn’t perfect, but it was a hell of a lot better than hunting in his opinion. he wanted you to have that. once this was all over, and you both got justice for your families, he’d help you apply, make sure you got in somewhere, maybe even go with you. a hush fell over the room and he knew you weren’t convinced.

“yeah, she was,” he says, his own voice a touch more gentle than moments ago. “we were lucky.” he doesn’t want to tell you that most college kids would be at least cool enough to let you inside, maybe not as friendly as her, but that it’s true you’d like it here. he doesn’t want to remind you of what you can’t have.

a silence falls over the two of you, punctuated only by the shuffling of your feet or the rustle of clothes. it’s comfortable and easy because you’ve done it a million times before. you don’t have to say anything to agree that you’ll head to the basement where the original murder occured. the both of you stay quiet and light on your feet, sam always peering around corners before rounding them.

in the basement he stops you with a simple finger to his lips. he leans in close to whisper as quietly as he can, “janitor’s here.”

you resist the urge to call said janitor an idiot, because who the hell is going to be cleaning an area in which three of your coworkers have mysteriously died in the past two weeks, but you just nod instead, taking in the way that sam’s eyes look under the dim light.

“wanna wait around til dean calls or warn him?” you ask, equally as quiet. he turns his head to look back around the corner before continuing.

“well, we should warn him, but we can’t use the drunk ruse on an employee. he probably has a radio scanner on him, might even be connected to campus security,” he points out.

“fbi?”

“we look too much like college kids right now,” he reasons.

“right,” you agree, “well then, stupid college kids trying to see a murder scene? we’ll link arms and you can hide the gun behind your back. just so we’re near him til dean burns the bones. hopefully nothing’ll even happen.” it’s as if you jinxed it all in that moment, as the lights immediately begin to flicker, the buzz of electricity filling your ears and a sudden chill filling the air. “nevermind,” you curse, flicking the iron rod back into your hand and barging around the corner, only a hair behind sam.

“way to jinx it,” he grunts.

you just scoff and beg him, “just try not to use the gun.” this time neither of you attempt to hide your presence as your shoes pound against the tile floor.

“no promises,” sam says, the gun up and loaded in front of him.

“what the hell?” the janitor barely has the time to exclaim before he’s thrown against the wall.

“i got it,” you warn sam, eager to avoid gunshots and sprinting full speed towards the apparition, iron rod in front of you. you throw all your weight into reaching the ghost of the young girl before she can flicker out of reach. the iron in your hand makes contact, and she evaporates for the time being. unfortunately for you, your momentum keeps you going, through the space the ghost just occupied and straight into the section of the floor slick with soapy water. with no time to gain any semblance of your balance, you slip and come crashing to the ground. your back hits the floor and the wind gets knocked out of your lungs in the same moment that the iron skitters out of your hand.

you struggle a bit to sit up due to the wetness underneath you, gasping slightly and letting curses fall from your mouth the moment you can speak again.

in a split second reaction, sam shouts your name, his voice inappropriately taught and worried for such a silly accident. he’s by your side in an instant, strong hands pulling you up and his anxious voice asking if you’re alright. you wave him off easily, unconcerned for yourself.

“help him,” you urge, “i’m fine.” but he doesn’t back off nearly as easily as you’d think.

“are you sure, did you hit your head? you couldn’t breathe for a second there,” his hands stay glued to you as he rattles off his concerns, ones that you find utterly unnecessary and unhelpful considering the fact that you’re fine, and the ghost could reappear any second. his strong grip keeps you from bending down to scoop up the iron rod, but you have to wrench yourself away from him when you hear a strangled cry come from the janitor. he whirls around with you to see the ghost with her hands around the janitor’s neck, crushing him against the wall as his feet dangle just above the floor. the iron rod is back in your hand in an instant, but sam’s shotgun lays abandoned on the floor a few feet away.

he dives for the weapon, but with a flick of the ghost’s hand, he’s knocked against the wall with a noise so loud it hurts to hear. before she can pay you attention, you fling the iron towards her, vaporizing her once more. the iron clatters to the ground as the janitor collapses to his knees. you rush towards him, pulling him away from the wall before tugging a container of salt from your jacket’s inside pockets. apologetically, you haul the poor man to his feet, throwing a quick look over your shoulder at sam. he’s groaning painfully, but already moving to get back up.

knowing he’s easily survived worse, you turn your attention back to the janitor, who’s sputtering out confused and incoherent questions about what in the goddamn hell is happening.

“just stay there,” you urge him, too pressed for time to add adequate sympathy to your tone. “stay in the circle and she can’t get you.” with practiced ease, you shake the salt onto the ground with barely enough to make a small, solid ring around the man.

you scoop up the gun from the ground, then turn to help sam onto his feet. “we’re gonna have to tough this out til dean gets done,” is all you say when you place the weapon into his hands, despite the urge to ask what the hell is wrong with him and why he’s so off his game. you turn to grab your own weapon, but it seems the ghost is reappearing faster and faster. this time, you’re the one who gets tossed into the wall, but you stay pressed against the cold surface as a mop flies to meet you, the long handle pushing against your throat and cutting off your air supply. you take in a strangled gasp, hands clawing at the old wooden handle and giving yourself a few splinters that you couldn’t care less about in the moment. of course, it doesn’t budge.

the second you’re flattened against the wall, sam shouts your name again, this time with his gun in the air, swinging around to get a shot at the ghost. but before he can react, it flies out of his hand and she reappears right in front of him, pushing him against the wall across from you.

he struggles against her wildly, his hand itching to get free of her hold to reach the hidden iron knife in his pocket. but before he can get there, her grip weakens and she lets out a strangled scream as she bursts into flames. the flames climb up her old fashioned pencil skirt and swallow up the bloody wound in her abdomen. her grip on you and sam falters as she burns away, then dissolves completely as the last of her ashes fade out into the musty basement air.

you drop to your knees, coughing and gasping for breath as the sound of the mop clattering to the floor echoes through the hallway. sam’s saying your name, half through a cough and his voice still so worried as he stumbles towards you. then he’s on his knees too and his hands are sturdy on your shoulders.

“‘m fine,” you rasp out, hand reaching for his bicep to ground you to something solid and steady. he stays right there, completely ignoring the poor man who’s still practically frozen in fear in the tiny circle of salt and the ringing of his phone. one of his hands slips around you to rub soothing strokes up and down your back and it brings you even closer to him, your forehead dipping to rest on his shoulder. you feel silly for how much he’s fussing over you, but you can’t quite scold or question him until you’ve caught your breath. clearly something is bothering him (and you want him so bad), so you let him hold you close.

“are you hurt anywhere?” he finally asks once he feels your breathing even out under his touch.

you pull away from him gently, shaking your head before verbally confirming, “no, i’m alright sam. nothing more than your typical bumps and bruises.” your voice is a touch raspy from the pressure on your throat, but it’s nothing that won’t go away with some water and rest, maybe some tea if really necessary.

his hands stay on you as he stands. “are you sure?” he asks, and you can’t figure out why on earth, heaven, or hell he’s so overly concerned about you. frankly, it’s starting to worry you. and definitely annoy you. all the sudden he’s acting like you’re fragile, like you can’t take care of yourself. things which he should know for a fact aren’t true.

he lets you slip away from his hold as you swoop down to pick up your lost weapons and face the poor janitor.

“sorry about that all. you can step out of the salt now.” he looks at you as if he can’t be sure, and your tone softens a bit. he’s young, probably just a college kid himself. “she’s really gone this time, i promise. you won’t ever have to worry about her again. though, i wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to look for a different job.”

he nods and thanks you, and you tell him to repay the favor by not mentioning you and sam. then, at a pace you certainly can’t blame him for, he scurries away.

“c’mon,” you nod to sam, “we should get out of here. you should also call dean back. he’s probably worried you didn’t answer.” with that, you turn back in the direction of the stairs without looking back at sam, rolling your eyes when your own cell ring. you pick up with a, “we’re fine, dean,” before he can even ask why the hell it took you so long to answer him. he lets out a sigh, half relieved, half annoyed.

“what took ya so long?” he asks anyway.

“had a few bumps in the road since little miss janitor-killer showed up, but we’re fine. neither of us are hurt. would’ya pick us up in the same spot you left us?”

“yeah, ‘course. already on my way, see you crazy kids in five.” with that, he hangs up and you don’t have to glance over your shoulder to feel sam following behind. it’s all just the familiarity of his footsteps, the sound they make, and the pace at which he walks. it’s the particular rustle of his favorite jacket, soft and scratchy sounding all at once. it’s the feeling of his tall figure, his broad chest so close behind you that he’d run right into you if you stopped even for a moment. you debate whether to ask him what the hell is up now or at the motel. for now, the priority is getting out unnoticed, so you clench your jaw a bit and continue in silence because you’re beginning to feel a little angry with him. you think he can feel it, so he stays quiet too, all the way out the dorm and down the street to wait for dean.

it’s not uncommon to be quieter after a hunt is finished because you’re all usually tired and more often than not achey from some toss around or another. but sam can tell there’s something else bothering you tonight. from the way you tilt your shoulder away from him, the distance so nearly imperceptible that only he would notice, he’s willing to bet that he’s that something. and though he doesn’t want to admit it, he thinks he knows why. he just won’t be the first one to say something about it because he’s stubborn, a little prideful, and most of all, too afraid to explain why he’s acting this way.

even so, he just can’t help himself. he hovers near, so near that once you’re settled by the side of the road, you can feel him without actually touching him. you’re tempted to nudge him away, just because of how overprotective he’s acting. you’re also tempted to lean back into his chest because somehow you know his hands wouldn’t waste a second in gathering you up and keeping you closer than ever before. it starts to rain a little bit, soft and almost unnoticable if it weren’t for the new chill in the air. for a moment, you can feel one hand hover over your waist, just for a second before there’s a light swish of fabric when it falls back to his side. you wonder if he’s worried about you getting too cold.

you hear dean before you see him, the rumble of the impala coming into earshot moments before its headlights appear around the corner. the car slows as it nears you, pulling to the side of the road with the front windows down and some classic rock guitar riff filtering into your ears. the music’s quieter than you know it was just moments ago from when dean was alone. he greets you two with a simple, “hey,” once he’s fully stopped and you place your hand out, palm up and wordlessly asking for sam to hand you the rifle to put in the trunk.

“i got it,” he says, not waiting for you to argue when he takes the iron from the loose grip of your fist and makes his way to the trunk. you slide into the back seat behind the passengers side and return dean’s greeting.

he twists in his seat to watch you as you close your eyes and massage your shoulder with a wince. it’s beginning to become more sore, just like all the rest of your body.

“you okay?” he asks, voice full of his normal gruffness that tells you cares enough to ask but knows not to be too worried.

you open your eyes back up to give him a nod. “‘m fine. just the usual ghost beat down. y’know, bumps and bruises.”

“mm, sure do,” he agrees, “so what? dearly departed marissa thought you were janitors?” he asks skeptically. you hear the slam of the trunk, and moments later sam’s settling into his seat in front of you.

“no,” you scoff, “some idiot kid was actually cleaning down there. told ‘im to get a new job,” you snort humorlessly.

“well, i’ll say,” dean raises his eyebrows in agreement before twisting back to face the wheel. he sneaks a look between you and sam before switching the car out of park and getting back on the road. for a few minutes, all you hear is the muted music, the constant roll of the engine, the light patter of rain on the metal roof, and the road under the tires. then dean switches off the music. “anything happen back there that i should know about?” he ventures.

“no,” sam answers casually, “nothing, just the usual.” you don’t even answer. you just can’t figure out if you should involve dean, tell him how sam was unthinking and almost entirely uncaring about the innocent civilian involved, all because he was so worried about you.

“alright,” dean concedes, glancing at you through the rearview mirror and sounding entirely unconvinced. he doesn’t turn the music back on, just lets the silence reign, so you close your tired eyes and lean your head against the cold glass of the window. you’ve fallen asleep in the back of the impala countless times before, but your drowsiness doesn’t take over this time in favor of letting your mind wander over what to say to sam. you can’t just let it be, and tonight is certainly the worst it’s gotten. plus, it’s an easy habit for you to wait for sleep when you’re already so close to the motel.

when dean pulls into the parking lot, he doesn’t turn off the engine. “gonna grab some grub. i’ll be back in a bit with the usual.”

“grab me something for dessert, will ya? ‘m craving something sweet,” you request, leaning towards the driver’s seat.

“sure thing,” he nods, and you slide out of the car and close the door after a thank you and tired smile. “anything for you, sammy?” you hear him ask.

“i’m good, just the regular,” sam responds as he exits the car. you unlock the motel door, and he’s inside the room just a moment later, closing and locking the entrance behind him. you stand facing away from him at the shitty table, your jacket already strewn across the back of a chair. you can hear him behind you, going through his routine movements. he’s taking off his jacket, setting it down on the edge of the bed. then he’s pulling comfier clothes out from his pack.

“you wanna shower first?” he offers, breaking the silence of the room. you can feel his gaze on your back.

“sure,” you swallow, “thanks,” you say without any sort of edge to your voice.

“‘f course,” he says, and he means that. his eyes follow you as you pull out your own change of clothes, just a tshirt and sweats, and make your way to the dingy bathroom. you’re tired, so you’re quick with it, but the water’s already lukewarm by the time you’re done. you dry off and dress quick, eager to lay in bed.

and yet, when sam takes your place in the bathroom and the sounds of the shower start up again, you sit at the table instead, picking out a few splinters in your hands before folding your arms and resting your head against them. you stay that way, even when you hear the water turn off, the bathroom door open, his heavy footfalls that are only heavy because he’s so tall and not for lack of gentleness, then the scraping of the chair across from you. he doesn’t even say a thing, just looks at the top of your head and the tip of your nose. the shape of your hands, the point of your elbows, and the curve of your back.

with a deep breath and some pain in your neck, you lift your head. you look back at him and slump your chin into your palm.

“i’m upset with you,” you state.

he frowns. even his frown is pretty. “i know,” he sighs.

“so? why are you acting like this?” your voice is tired, but you still manage to infuse accusation into your tone, “sam, why are you suddenly acting like i can’t take care of myself out there? you’ve been weird for nearly two weeks now, and i don’t like it. i don’t like this.”

sam doesn’t know how to respond. he’s used to being yelled at, shouted at, angry at. he’s used to yelling and shouting and getting angry back. and though he’s certainly fought with you before, he’s still not used to the level tone and the way you say each word so slow, like you’re not actually arguing. just upset and rightfully a little angry, like you just want to understand.

sure, he can hear the plain anger in your voice. you’re not trying to hide it. but you’re not yelling. how’s he supposed to use the heat of the moment to shout back, “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” or “i’m just trying to help,” when there is no heat in the moment? instead, he’s embarrassed and the only answer he can come up with, the only one that he can mean if he answers in that same, level tone you’re using is, one he’s having too much trouble saying aloud. any other answer would just be too wrong like that. or maybe if you were shouting, he’d tell you the truth, because he could yell it out, loud and rash without thinking about it. if he says it now, it’s not because he just let it slip. if he says it now, there’s no way to take it back, to get around everything threatening to bubble over the surface like forgotten water on a heated stove.

“i don’t think that you can’t take care of yourself. i know you can,” is all he says, because it’s true and it skirts around the real questions. his voice is rough, halfway between pleading and holding back from the anger he doesn’t yet know how to control. you heave a sigh.

“so why, sam? why?” you let the heavy question stew for a moment, then go on when he doesn’t even meet your gaze, “or, i don’t know, if you’re not gonna tell me, just promise me you’ll stop?”

he clenches his jaw because he knows he can’t. he just wishes you would shout. then, he’d tell you. he can imagine the words coming out of his mouth, but only if they’re loud, only if you’ve pressured him to do it. he realizes that’s probably fucked up. but the other way is too vulnerable, too vast of a leap to take to when he’s just not sure.

“sam,” you press, “you don’t have to worry about me, i swear. i don’t understand what’s got you like this, but it’s getting in the way of you being able to do your job right. that kid could have died because all you could do was worry about me,” that’s when you begin you raise your voice, just a little. because that’s what’s making you most upset about this. you hate it ‘cause you feel like he’s doubting your abilities as a hunter, but you hate it even more because it’s making him disregard the safety of others and of himself, for you. “sam, i only slipped. sure i got the wind knocked out of me, but you dropped your gun for that? frankly, that was stupid. and the poor kid was being choked, and if i hadn’t been lucky enough to throw the iron before she could react, he could have died. i need you to understand that. i need you to understand that i can do this job, that i’m strong enough, and that if you don’t trust me with that? people could die. and i’m not about to let that happen. so either you tell me what’s up and we figure it out, or you stop and i pay you the huge favor of just dropping the whole thing, okay?”

suddenly he looks all sad. “i do trust you,” he says, voice all sincerity and nothing more.

you close your eyes for a moment, half in frustration and half because you could really use some shut eye right about now. “that’s not– well, it is. it is part of the point. but i need an answer from you, i need you to tell me you won’t let whatever this is put somebody else in danger.”

he clenches his jaw. he’s still stuck. you still haven’t shouted.

“just spit it out. i can practically see something rolling around on the tip of your tongue. just say it, sam.”

there’s an edge to your voice, so maybe he can.

“i can’t lose you.”

there it is. it’s said with an edge, too, like he wanted to shout it but couldn’t. it’s said rough and a little bit angry and full of this undying faithfulness and yes, love.

but you still don't quite understand it, so it makes you sigh. it makes your eyes soften a bit and it makes you a little angrier than before. it makes you want him to mean that with all his chest and it makes you want to shake him hard until he comes to his senses.

“that’s always been a danger, ever since we met. you know that,” your voice is something so oddly gentle in its frustration, “sammy, you’re my best friend, and i can’t lose you either. hell, i don’t think the words “best friend” even begin to cover the depth of how much i care about you. but we’ll both be safer if we trust each other, if we trust in both of our abilities to keep ourselves and the other safe. tell me that you understand that.”

it takes him a minute to speak again, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he searches for what to say. “two weeks ago,” is all he manages at first. you try to think back to it, and it immediately dawns on you. “i couldn’t prote–”

“sammy, no,” you interrupt, “that wasn’t your fault, okay? i know this doesn’t help to say, but we can’t always protect each other perfectly, to the extent we really want. i’d do anything for you, sammy, you know that.” after that there’s supposed to be a “but” where you explain to him that you can’t let that get in the way of your thinking straight and keeping everyone safe. instead, those last words just hang, suspended and weighty in the air.

“but you could’ve been killed,” the way he says your name is almost desperate. “it was dean that saved you. i was there and i couldn’t even help. what if next time, dean isn’t there? what if–,” his voice breaks, and he effectively cuts himself off from finishing the sentence. you know what he was trying to say.

any answer you give to that, you know isn’t enough. “but i wasn’t killed, sam. i’m here. i’m right here and i’m alive and i’m well and i don’t want to spend all my time worrying about you worrying about me. not like this.” you let that sit for a moment or two, and though his eyebrows are still all sad and pinched together, you think you’re starting to get through to him.

“but i can’t lose you,” he repeats stubbornly.

“sam,” you’re practically begging at this point, frustration creeping back into your voice, “the best way for you to keep me safe from ghosts and monsters and everything else is to take care of the problem, efficiently and effectively, like we always do. if there’s no monster, it can’t hurt me. but if you drop your weapon just because i slipped on soapy floors and lost my breath for a second? then it’s not just you and whatever innocent bystander around who’s more vulnerable now, it’s me too. so if that’s what it’s gonna take for me to convince you to stop fussing over me, then, please, think about it like that.”

sam is smart. he loves logic and reason, and you’ve handed him just that. but even more than that, he loves you. in the end, that trumps all.

“but i love you.”

he says it like a plea. like he didn’t mean to say it at all but it was the only thing running through his mind, and therefore, the only thing running off his tongue.

“sammy,” you breathe out, and then it’s like there’s no more air for you to breathe back in. that sweet nickname of his coming out of your mouth, resting on your tongue before tumbling into the air, is half like a drug to him, half like a bitter wind to sober him up quick.

“i– i only meant that i–,” he meant just that and now it’s said and now he’s never going to take it back, even if you hate him for it. “i meant that,” he says it firm and true this time, “i love you, so i can’t lose you.”

the way he looks at you, right into your eyes like they’re the prettiest things he’s ever seen, like you’re the best thing he’s ever had, oh, it has you hooked like bait has a fish who bit down too hard. it has you praying he never looks at anybody else like that again. it has you rising out of your seat and it’s pulling you across the small, wobbly table. he’s wedged into the grooves of your heart, so deep it could kill you to pull him out, so you follow the tug and he leans in too so the line isn’t so taught, so that it’s easy and comfortable and beautiful to reach his lips.

his hands are like a net that catches you up in big, lovely swaths. they travel from your own hands, that lean against the table to keep your lips pressed to his, up to your elbows and then he knows he can never get enough. so he pushes up out of his own seat, drags his hands further up your arms until they can wrap around your biceps and push you up. not for a moment does he let his lips leave yours as he stands and pulls the both of you away from the table until he can bring you close, right into his wide, warm chest. then his hands can roam, gentle over your sensitive back, up to your neck then the back of your head to push your face into his. the other hand gets to go from your waist to your hips, or dip to the small of your back and press you flush to him.

you can only get away from him for a second, just enough time to whisper, “i love you, too,” before he swallows you back up. you melt right into him, and he loves it so much, but he feels how tired you are and he remembers he is too. so he only kisses you for a minute longer before letting your head rest on his shoulder. without any reservation, he presses a long kiss to your temple and you sigh a sweet sigh into his worn out tshirt.

unwilling to let go, he waddles with you, all bundled up into his arms, to the edge of the bed. without warning, he collapses into it, taking you right down with him and pulling out a little shriek from your mouth that he finds to be nothing short of endearing. he laughs, a belly laugh that you can feel the vibrations of as it moves up into his chest and out of those pretty lips of his. with some struggle to readjust yourself, you press a sweet peck to those lips. another easy i love you.

then you collapse back into his hold and the low quality plush of the motel bed. “now promise me you’ll pull yourself together next time we get a case?” this time your ask is so much more lighthearted, sweeter because it’s mumbled into the skin of his arm. you mean it just as much, but you can’t help the fact that you feel like you’re floating, “now i really, really can’t have you getting us in trouble. i’ll need to be able to kiss you at any given moment, so you have to promise me that you’ll trust me to take care of myself. because it works, and you know it. it’s the safest way. for both of us.”

the sigh he heaves can be felt through practically your whole body. it’s heavier than you wish it’d be, but he relaxes against you just a bit more. “i know,” he relents, “i’ll do my best, okay?”

“thank you,” you breathe out, too relieved to care that he couldn’t quite promise. you know this all means he’ll just be more protective of you, but you can say the same for yourself. now that you’ve kissed him and he’s told you he loves you and you’ve said it back, right against his lips, you’ll worry about him extra. but the both of you know the best ways to keep each other alive, and that has to be enough for you. you allow yourself to snuggle closer into him before joking, “d’you think dean’s ever gonna come back?”

you feel sam’s quiet laugh more than you hear it. “yeah, he really did us a favor with that one, didn’t he?” you can hear the smile in his voice before he remembers himself, “do not tell him i said that.” having you in his arms like this has got him a little giddy, saying things aloud that he normally wouldn’t.

letting out a laugh of your own, you promise, “i won’t. but i’m starting to get hungry. maybe we should call him and tell him the coast is clear, we didn’t tear the room to shreds or anything like that.”

sam chuckles again, and you decide very quickly that you like the way it feels for him to laugh with you so close. neither of you move, not to get a phone to call dean or to stop yourselves from growing drowsy. not for anything.

you’re half asleep when you hear the familiar sound of the impala’s engine near the room. it turns off, then comes the sound of its front door being open and shut. just because you’re hungry and it spells the arrival of food, you force your eyes open and let out a groan when you wiggle your arms out of sam’s hold to stretch. the way his hands shift to your waist as you do so has you a bit flustered and you wonder if you’re supposed to pretend in front of dean that you haven’t spent the last half hour kissing and cuddling. but sam doesn't seem to care, because he just sits up when the door’s lock clicks, one hand by your head to hold him up, the other still settled decidedly on your waist. so you decide not to care either, and turn your head around to accidentally grin at dean when he peeks his head through the door. you had meant to look casual, but the second someone else becomes a witness to the fact that you’re laying together like this, you’re beaming.

dean visibly relaxes when he takes in the sight, pushing the door all the way open to walk in, then lock the door back up behind him.

“hey, there,” is all he says, shooting the both of you a look that says, really, you’re just gonna keep sitting there like that in front of me? it’s not that bad, but he’s allowed to tease because he just turned a twenty minute food trip into an hour purely for yours and sam’s sake. you clear your throat awkwardly, and only when you sit up does sam’s hand fall away from you.

you pad over to the table as dean places the paper bag of fast food on the surface. he drags over an extra mismatched chair and sam follows close behind you, pulling the remaining chair to sit beside you. as you begin to pull food out from the bag, now clearly gone cold to the touch, dean sits down, complaining that they didn’t have pie, so he bought you two cookies for dessert instead.

“well, thank you for the food anyways,” you smile, hoping he picks up on the fact that you’re thanking him for the other thing too, “damn shame there was no pie, though,” you say, more for his sake than yours. you wonder why he didn’t just pick some up from somewhere else since he was gone so long.

“mhmm, and don’t sweat about the pie. just got a slice somewhere else,” he shrugs, “ate it in the car, there was only one slice left and i didn’t want you to feel like you were missing out,” he explains with that familiar teasing edge which makes you think he indeed caught onto the double meaning of your thanks. you let out a small huff of laughter before tearing into the food, only now realizing just how hungry you are. you’d felt it creep up on you on the car ride back, smiled at the mention of food from dean, even stupidly thought about it during a quiet moment in the argument with sam. but the second your lips found his, that was the only hunger you’d felt. to keep kissing him, to keep him close, keep him loving you. only when you settled all the way into his arms, sure that you’d be able to satiate that hunger again, could your body remember you hadn’t eaten since early this afternoon.

the three of you eating like this, late at night and without much conversation, is common and comfortable. dean is on what you assume to be his second burger, because there’s no way he’d have just sat in the car, probably parked in a random lot and wondering how long he should be gone, and just waited to eat an extra-bacon burger until he came back. sam’s nearly the same as always, too, but tonight he sits so close that his forearm brushes against yours. you bump elbows or knees every so often, and the side of his socked foot is pressed against yours the entire time.

you sigh, content with the nearness of him that’s so much more complete and full than it was just hours ago. now, there’s no need to hover. now, you can just swoop in and land, take what you want, give what the other needs.

dean makes no teasing comments, but you can feel the way he’s been examining, reading the two of you. you’re not sure if you’re supposed to say something aloud, but you know that he knows the two of you so well that he understands almost exactly what must’ve happened while he was gone. maybe he’s not teasing because this is the outcome he wanted to come back to. he probably knows better than the both of you how you were crushing, pining even, over the other.

he takes his turn in the shower when he finishes his food, and you and sam begin to clean up a few minutes later. once all the trash is crumbled up and tossed away, you go around and turn off all the lights but a single bedside lamp. as you turn away from clicking off the lamp in the corner of the room, sam’s right there in front of you. you don’t have the time to be startled by him sneaking up on you, he’s so quick to cup your face with his hands and slot his lips against yours. he lingers a long moment before pulling apart just enough to rest his forehead on yours.

“gonna kiss you forever,” he whispers, and you realize you’ve turned this giant man into a complete and utter sap.

“you better.” your grin is wide and real and he can almost feel your lips moving, he’s so close. just as you’re ready to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him hard, the steady white noise of the shower shuts off. you sigh and laugh a little, leaning in to steal one more chaste kiss before brushing past him. but he turns with you, hands still warm on your cheeks and not letting go until he’s kissed you once more.

when dean’s gone from the bathroom, sam follows you in to brush his teeth with you. you’ve done so plenty of times, but tonight, sam gets to loop his free arm around your waist and pull you into him, rather than stand shoulder to shoulder in the cramped space. he gets to make you giggle through toothpaste when he does so, and you get to switch your toothbrush to your other hand and wrap your own arm around his waist, too. he gets to make you laugh dangerously harder when he tightens his hold on you to prevent you from bending and spitting into the sink when you’re done. you try to hold back the laughter with your mouth full of toothpaste, then he’s the one laughing around his toothbrush because there’s white, foamy spit rolling down your chin from the corner of your mouth and threatening to drip to your dark-colored tshirt. of course, he lets you spit and rinse your mouth, relishing in the continued sound of your laughter.

“you asshole! almost ruined my shirt til the next time we make a laundry stop!” you take revenge as he rinses out his own mouth, splashing the running water onto his face as he swishes water around in his mouth.

he spits the water out in surprise and sputters an indignant, “hey!” before he bursts into laughter again.

you’re both giddy, high off of kissing each other, and silly from the exhaustion of a hunt, so he tugs you into him by your hips and keeps laughing into the crook of your neck. you wrap your arms around his neck and thread your fingers up through his soft, newly washed hair. you kiss the closest thing you can reach and he melts right into your arms.

it’s only when you yawn that he pulls away from you. “we should get to bed, huh?”

you nod and twist towards the door, peeking through it to see dean sleeping in his bed, his still form highlighted by the warm light of the cheap lamp. taking sam’s hand with a shy smile, you lead him to the other bed, turning off the last light and climbing under the covers with him not far behind. he loops his arm under your head, then the other over your waist to splay his hand flat across the small of your back. the way he does it is exactly the way you wished he would, as if he’s thought about holding you like this every night you share a bed, just as you had. with a final glance towards dean, he kisses your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips.

you try to stifle the giggle that the soft, ticklish contact of his lips wants to pull from your chest, praying that dean is really as asleep as he looks. the both of you stiffen a bit when you hear dean’s blankets rustling, but you let out another breathy, quiet laugh when it goes silent again.

sam’s about to kiss you all over again when dean’s voice rings out into the hush of the night, startling you both.

“no shenanigans while i’m asleep, lovebirds,” he grunts.

that brings more laughter out of your lips and a rush of heat to your face that you’re sure sam feels, too. he just groans in annoyance at his brother, because of course dean had to get in at least one borderline dirty comment. neither of you really answer as dean shifts around in his bed again, likely turning his back to you and mumbling something mostly unintelligible.

the only word you can catch is “finally.”

954 notes · View notes

mrkis · 2 years ago

Text

this is (not) easy. (m.l)

PAIRING: mark lee x reader GENRE: fwb, f2l, crack humour, fluff, smut, angst WORD COUNT: 13.2k

SYNOPSIS: getting into a friends with benefits situation with your all time best friend was so (not) easy

CONTENT WARNINGS: explicit content, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, sofa sex, doggy, creampies, big dick mark as always (he gets cocky bc his cock is big), a lot of crack humour, kissing, make-outs, sorta slow burn, heavily implied jaemin x reader moments, alcohol consumption, mentions of weed

[AN]: a thank you gift for being patient with me while i take some time off, and also a thank you gift for the follower milestone. you guys are insane.. i love you.

“Wait, you what?” You screech incredulously, not caring about the loudness of your tone as you abruptly straighten up in your seat, the legs squeaking against the wooden flooring of the library. Other students with their heads shoved in books and laptop screens peek over to shush you angrily, one warning you about the volume of your voice but you pay them no attention as you’re staring wide eyed at Mark who sits across from you sheepishly.

Mark Lee—one of the hot throbs living on campus, the smartest and kindest guy in class, and the biggest marvel freak has been your bestest friend for the past few years, having met in the middle of a school’s basketball court where fourteen-year-old Mark had tried to shoot some hoops to impress his newfound friends, only for the ball to come flying straight at your face and leaving you with a swollen eyeball and a busted up nose.

Mark was unbelievably apologetic, buying jellies and ripping up flowers from potted plants to give to you, begging for your forgiveness over and over again until you socked him in the face, giving him a hefty nosebleed and a bruised cheek. A toothy grin was spread across your cheeks as you had taken the gifts out of his hands, a happy ‘now we’re even!’ leaving your lips as you had ripped open the packet, offering a jelly, offering your friendship.

The two of you became inseparable and if someone saw one of you, they knew that the other would be trailing along behind them. You were two peas in a pod, the dynamic duo. You were so joined at the hip that when you both enrolled for college, you tried signing up for a dorm on campus, wanting to be roommates.

It didn’t happen much to both of your dismay. Mark ended up rooming with one of his friends, Jaemin, while you got stuck with some girl you didn’t even know but had become acquainted with over a short period of time.

Still, you and Mark never strayed far from each other even with your roommates lingering around. Mark slept over at your place from time to time and vice versa, you’re certain that he even has a drawer for himself in your dresser filled with spare shirts, sweatpants and underwear. A lot of your mutual friends found it suspicious how you two could be so close with nothing going on, complaining how neither of you could be just friends even though it was the truth. You are just friends, you’re best friends.

“I’m just saying you’re complaining about not hooking up with someone for a few days while I haven’t slept with someone for, like, a month” Mark repeats to you with flushed cheeks, adjusting the black cap on his head with one hand while other skilfully flips a pen around his fingers, bottom lip jutting out. “Times are hard, dude. I got assignments coming out of my ass—”

“There’s no way you haven’t hooked up with someone recently” You hiss between teeth, refusing to believe a word that comes out of his mouth when he’s talking about such nonsense. A student from the table next to yours turns around in their seat in annoyance to look at you, pressing their finger aggressively against their lips to tell you to quiet down and you scoff, throwing them the middle finger with your own irritancy and annoyance.

“Can you not?” Mark scolds you as he wraps his hand around your own, squeezing in warning as he pushes it back down to the table and sends the student an apologetic smile, and as always, it works like a charm as they shyly smile back and return back to their book. It makes you scoff again and Mark is quick to look at you, “I’m telling you the truth, you know”

“Bullshit” You murmur, sending him a glare. “That girl from my study group was over at your dorm last weekend—I saw her snapchat stories”

“Dude, we’re in the same study group. She came over for some of my notes and stayed longer because Jaemin offered her an ounce of his ‘premium weed’” Mark explains, putting emphasis around the word ‘premium weed’ which has you snorting, knowing that there was nothing premium about Jaemin’s stash. “She eventually ended up sleeping over and fucking Jeno anyways”

Your face contorts into a look of confusion at that, “What? Jeno isn’t even your roommate?”

“I know,” Mark grimaces. “Jaemin’s sheets are still in the dryer”

“Oh…” You pause, humming as the realisation finally hits you. “So that’s why Jaemin didn’t have any sheets on his bed when I came over on Monday”

“Yea—wait, you came over Monday?” Mark’s head snaps towards you, eyes narrowing in on you as he jabs his pen in your direction. “Did you fuck in my bed?!

“No, of course not” You scoff, deeply offended by his accusation and Mark lets out a sigh of relief, relaxing his shoulders as he leans back into his chair. “We actually fucked on the sofa—”

“Are you fucking kidding m—”

“That’s besides the point!!” You cut him off before he can grill into you, silencing him as you raise your hand in front of his face as he tries to retaliate again. “You haven’t fucked anyone in a month, Mark. That’s… that’s blasphemy!!”

Mark deadpans, “I’m pretty sure that’s not blasphemy”

“Whatever, you know what I mean” You discard it, shoving your books and pens as far away from you as you possibly could, no longer interested in studying the endless amount of words on that page now that you’ve discovered your best friend hasn’t gotten laid in so long. You sit comfortably in your chair as you fully face him, tucking your legs beneath you. “I can’t believe you fucked someone in a month…”

“You’re telling me” Mark huffs, deciding to push away his studies too for the time being as he rubs at his face in frustration, groaning beneath his palms. You console him with a frown, rubbing his shoulder in pity and Mark drops his hands to his lap, looking over at you with a glare. “I can’t believe you didn’t believe me, dude… why would I lie about something like that?!”

“I don’t know—you fuck more than I do, of course I’m not gonna believe a word you say when you tell me something like that!!” You’re quick to defend yourself, both you and Mark knowing you’re speaking the truth.

Mark does fuck more than you. His boyish charm and adorable face doesn’t hide the fact that his body count is currently sitting in its twenties and that his online bank statements show how many packs of condoms he’s buying weekly, and maybe a few plan B’s lingering there somewhere for extra precaution. He was always on the safe side which didn’t surprise you, he was nowhere ready to be extremely stupid and possibly impregnate someone, especially a stranger.

“Dude… you didn’t have to say it out loud like that…” Mark mutters under his breath, cheeks dusting a slight pink as another student turns around in their seat to glare at the pair of you and comically widens her eyes as she meets Mark’s, shyly tucking her hair behind her ears with a kind smile that Mark reciprocates. You scoff at her reaction and lean back in your seat just as Mark’s attention is brought back to you. “Are we done with this conversation? I’d like to change the topic from my non-existent sex life to something more appealing”

“Fine… you still going to Johnny’s later?”

“Nah, he’s got some important family thing to go to so we’re hanging another time” Mark sighs softly, taking the cap off of his head to run his fingers through his hair before adjusting it back on. “You cool if I came over with you?”

“Sure” You grin, already shoving your books into your tote bag, eager to leave the library as soon as you possibly can. Mark snorts in amusement but follows closely behind as he shoves his own belongings into his backpack and rests the strap on his shoulder. You turn your head to see the girl still staring over at Mark and you smirk, slamming one hand on the desk in front of her to get her attention before jabbing your thumb in Mark’s direction. “If you want his number, I can give it to you. He’s been stuck in a dry spell recently so—”

Mark’s fingers curl around your elbow, dragging you away from the traumatised girl with a huff, “Move”

“I’ve been thinking about something…” You begin after a few hefty hours of studying and bingeing out on food, dropping your chopsticks in the empty ramen cup and pushing it to the side. Mark sits beside you on the sofa, his own ramen cup in hand as he stares at his laptop screen, taking in the words that need to be remembered for his class.

Mark gives you a pointed look as he slurps his ramen, “That doesn’t sound good”

“Wow, hilarious” You deadpan with a roll of your eyes as he chuckles under his breath, turning his head back to the laptop screen. “Anyway—and hear me out before you say some dumbass shit—I’ve been thinking about something that relates to that little problem we both have, and I may have just thought of a way to fix it”

“Why are you still hung up on this?” Mark whines between mouthfuls. “I don’t want to be reminded that I’m not having sex, dude—"

“Ah!” You hold up your hand to shush him and he goes cross eyed to stare at your palm. “I said hear me out”

“Okay”

“Great! Okay, so, me and you are the best of friends, right? Like, we always help each other out and—”

“Where is this going?”

“Hear. Me. Out” You warn once more and Mark sighs, nodding his head to let you continue. “We always help each other out, right? And there’s no awkwardness between us at all which makes us close. Do you remember that time we had to make-out in front of Sejun so he would stop awkwardly hitting on me? And that time I pretended to be your girlfriend so Rina would get the hint that you didn’t want to fuck her anymore?”

“That didn’t exactly work out because we slept with them a few days after it happened—”

“That’s not the point” You say as you frustratingly rub at your temples. “The point is that we always help each other out, no matter what the situation is because we’re best friends. So, as best friends, I think we should help each other out with our little situation”

“And how can we help each other out”

“By fucking each other” The second those words leave your lips, Mark chokes on his ramen, fist banging against his chest as he coughs, eyes watery and face red and it has you cackling, wishing you had your phone nearby to take a picture. Mark takes deep breaths as he finally consumes air, reaching down to grab his bottle of water that rests beside the leg of the sofa, gulping it down almost immediately. “You’re so dramatic”

“And you’re crazy!!” Mark shoots back, water droplets falling from his chin as he looks at you with wide eyes. “Do you realise what you just said?”

You grin, “Perfectly!”

“We’re not fucking each other, it’ll be too weird” You instantly find offense to that, your jaw dropping and Mark rolls his eyes. “We’re best friends. Best friends don’t do that type of shit—Stop looking at me like that!”

You huff, turning your head away from him childishly, “I’m just trying to help us out. I don’t think it’ll be weird, people have done weirder”

“Do you know how many friendships have been ruined because they fucked?” Mark questions you and you take a moment to ponder, wincing as you can easily name a few from the top of your head. “Exactly. As much as I find you attractive, I’m not going to ruin our friendship. We’ve been best friends for too long”

Your head slowly whirls back to Mark who’s already staring at you and you smile, flirtily batting your eyelashes at him, “You think I’m attractive?”

“You’re unbelievable, jesus fucking chri—” Mark cuts himself off, rubbing his forehead as he exhales deeply due to his frustration. You beam at the thought of getting under his skin, but you roll your eyes and reach over to press your foot into his side to bring his attention back to you.

Mark looks over at you with a deadpan expression and you grin softly, tilting your head to the side as you admire the view. You’ve always found Mark attractive even if it was in a friendly way, and you’d be lying if you said that sleeping with him has never crossed your mind, but that’s because you’re nosy and want to see what all the fuss is about when you continuously hear the girls gush about what he’s like in bed.

Some say he’s pretty giving, tending to their needs in all ways possible while others say he comes across as needy and desperate, begging for his cock to be sucked. It piques your interest immensely… Maybe it was wrong of you to think that way about someone you know so well, but you’re human after all, sometimes you can’t help the way you think.

“Look…” You speak first. “What I said was just a suggestion, okay? If you don’t want to do it then that’s fine—”

“How do you know that it won’t ruin our friendship?” Mark cuts you off and your eyebrows raise in surprise at the question. “We’ve been friends for, like, nine years or something, dude… I don’t know about you but I don’t want to throw that all away because we messed up and decided to fuck each other just because we’re horny”

“We’re not going to get into anything serious” You tell him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Sure, we’re probably going to be in some type of friends with benefits situation but we’re not going to include any of that ‘official’ or ‘exclusive’ bullshit. We just fuck each other for a release when we can’t find it anywhere else, it’s as simple as that. No complications”

“So…” Mark purses his lips in deep thought. “We can still fuck other people?”

You scoff, “Of course. You think I’d drop Jaemin for you that easily?”

“Fuck you”

Your lips curl into a smirk, “I’m hoping you would”

Mark stares at you before chuckling, shaking his head as his tongue pokes at his cheek. The little act spurs you on but you remain seating, wanting Mark to make the first move if he was game in fucking you to help relieve the stress you’re both feeling, maybe Mark more than you considering you fucked Jaemin a few days ago, but you were desperate to be filled again.

You watch Mark ponder for a moment, his bottom lip jutting down deep in thought, brows pulling together as he thinks about the pros and cons. His hands come up to pull the cap off of his head, his hair messily falling in front of his eyes and your thighs press together at the thought of seeing it between your legs with your fingers tangled through the locks. You snort at how deluded you sound.

“What time does your roommate come back tonight?” Mark questions you, his low voice bringing you out of your thoughts and your body buzzes with excitement, reaching over to snag your phone off of the coffee table to check the time and you grin wildly when you realise she won’t be home for another three hours. You inform him immediately and he nods, “Cool. Good to know”

“So?” You press, chucking your phone back onto the coffee table as you look at him expectedly. “What’s it going to be?”

“No titles—”

“None at all”

“We can still fuck whoever we want—”

“Even the neighbours”

“And most importantly…” Mark pauses with a deep sigh, leaning closer to you and holding up his hand with his pinky finger outstretched. “We’re still best friends”

“It’ll be like nothing ever changed” You say softly with a smile, raising your own hand to curl your pinky finger around his own, squeezing tightly. It’s silent between you both for a while and you can clearly see the cogs turning inside Mark’s head as he thinks about his next move, yet you’re the one that takes the initiative.

You rip your hand away from his to throw your arms around his shoulders, dragging him towards you to plant your lips on his in a heated kiss. You’re surprised at how fast Mark responds as his palms come up to cup your cheeks, tilting his head to the side to kiss you deeper as his tongue moulds with yours.

The few drunken kisses you’ve shared with Mark to help each other out of situations is nothing like the kiss you’re experiencing now and it catches you extremely off guard. You almost expected him to allow you to take control of the situation and lead him through, but with the way Mark’s pushing you down to the sofa and crawling in between your open legs with his lips still attached to yours, you’re stumped.

“Wait” You stop him, pressing your hand against his shoulder to push him back and Mark moves away with puckered lips, his fingers hovering above the waistband of your shorts which causes you to snort, “Why are we doing this on the sofa when there’s a perfectly good bed in my room?”

Mark glares down at you, “That didn’t stop you and Jaemin fucking on my sofa”

“Actually, there was no sheets on Jaemin’s bed, so—”

“Think of this as payback” Mark smiles at you sweetly and you snarl, knocking your knee against his side with force and he laughs through clenched teeth, “Besides, you’ve probably fucked a lot of people on this sofa…. Do you really care?”

“Are you implying that I’m a slut”

“Yeah”

“God, that’s so hot of you”

Mark snorts out a laugh and leans down to reconnect your lips as his hands pull your shorts and underwear down your legs, carelessly throwing them somewhere to the side and you hiss at the cold air that hits, yearning for warmth.

Mark’s lips trail down your throat and to the collar of your shirt, heading south to where your thighs shake in anticipation, watching as he shifts down to lay between your legs, hands pushing against your knees to spread you apart further.

Your hand reaches down to pull the cap off of his head, revealing his messy hair beneath and you toss it over the sofa, caring so little about where it lands as you thread your fingers through his locks, trying to tug him closer but he barely budges, staring up at you with his brows laced together.

“Hurry” You whine.

“Are you always this impatient?”

“Of course” You look at him like he’s stupid. “We’re both doing this for a reason and it’s to cum, not to take our sweet little time and—Oh fuck!”

“You talk too much” He drags his tongue through your folds, the pink muscle swirling around your clit and your body jerks, a gasp flying past your lips as you dig your fingers further into his hair, the feeling of his tongue wiggling between your folds and licking upwards to flick over your clit before his fingers tease at your entrance.

Your body goes slack against the sofa cushions as he eases his two digits inside the warmth of your walls, curling his fingers upwards as his lips wrap around your sensitive bud and you whine, tugging on his hair a little harder which causes him to groan, the vibrations causing goosebumps to rise to your skin.

You’re in shock at how well Mark uses his tongue and fingers against you. You’ve heard stories from your girl friends and Mark himself, but you didn’t realise he was this good and it completely caught you off track, unable to control the noises that rip from your chest when he begins to pump his fingers in and out of your pussy while his tongue continues to work wonders on your clit.

“Mark” You say his name with a moan, thighs twitching and closing in around his head and you feel him smile against your cunt, causing you to squeeze around his head in warning, “Stop it”

“You gonna cum already?” He asks as he lifts his head, mouth glistening with your arousal and his fingers hitting the spot that has your toes curling and back arching against the cushions. “You can cum, if you want. Let it go”

“You’re so cocky” You chuckle, but your amusement slips away and is overcome by pleasure as he pumps his fingers a few more times, the tightening band in your stomach snapping as you cum all over his hand, gasping through high pitched whines and trying to control the convulsing movement of your body.

“That’s it” Mark hums, pressing a quick kiss to your clit. “There you go…”

“Oh my god” You choke out, your hand falling limp on his shoulder as it drops from his hair, your fingers twitching over the material. “What the fuck was that?!”

“Me eating you out” He answers simply with smugness in his tone, popping his fingers into his mouth to lick them clean and your mouth drops in shock at the action. “You good?”

“Yeah, good” You nod dumbly, completely astonished at how nonchalant Mark is, watching as he tugs his jeans and boxers down his legs awkwardly when he sits up, your eyes immediately zoning in on his cock that slaps against his stomach once freed from its confinements.

Truthfully, you’ve seen Mark naked as he’s so comfortable stripping in front of you without any thought. But, you’ve never seen Mark hard and the sight alone is enough to have your mouth watering in anticipation. Your best friend is huge.

“Okay” Mark speaks to himself, shuffling forwards on his knees and hooking his hands under the back of yours to pull you closer, his thumbs caressing your skin. “You ready? You know there’s no turning back from this, right?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be” You grin, wiggling against him excitedly. “Give me what you got, baby!”

“Don’t call me that, dude” Mark tuts, shaking his head as he slowly slides his cock into you. Your eyes slowly start to widen at the stretch, the burn obvious in your thighs and your hand flies down to his in hopes to slow down his movements despite him going as slow as he possibly could.

You breathe steadily through your nose, lips pressed together tightly as you wince at the uncomfortable ache that spreads, your pussy squeezing down on him as if you were trying to prevent him from entering any further.

“Ow” You mutter beneath your breath, twisting your hips to try and get comfortable and relax but you wince at the movement you make, causing Mark to raise his head from where you’re connected to look into your eyes, his own pooling with concern.

“You alright?”

“Mhm” You hum with a curt nod. “Nothing of that significant size has been up there before, you know? I’m just… feeling uncomfortable, that’s all”

His lips curl into a grin, “You calling my dick big?”

You give him a hardened glare, “Not as big as your fucking head”

Mark laughs loudly, his hand laying flat across your lower tummy as he adjusts himself in between your legs, head ducking down to watch himself carefully push into you once more but the second your legs tense up, he sighs apologetically and strokes your tummy as he slides out of you and you whine at the feeling of emptiness, looking at him with a pout.

“Hold on…” He tells you softly, gently grabbing your waist to help flip you over on all fours, his hands sliding around your back and pressing down slightly, arching it to hold you in place as you feel his cock prod at your entrance. “This should feel better. But tell me if it still hurts, okay? I don’t want to hurt you anymore”

“Just—” You grit your teeth together. “Just fuck me, Mark”

“Okay” Mark whispers as he eases himself into you again at a slow pace and you gasp, your fingers gripping the arm of the sofa, your head dropping to rest on the cushions as you try to control your breathing. The new position was definitely better than the last, but you can still feel him stretch you out to fit you around his cock. “Is my dick really that big?”

“Are you asking because you’re concerned or because you want me to boost your ego?”

Mark smiles, “Maybe both”

You don’t even get a chance to retaliate as Mark begins to fill you up completely, his hips pressing against your ass and you whine at how full you feel, unable to think properly as he pulls his cock out, leaving the tip nestled in your cunt before thrusting back in.

He curses loudly behind you, fingers digging into your hips as he rocks his hips into you, his powerful thrusts sending your body jerking forwards. You squeeze around his cock and he moans, his pace speeding up and you can’t help but fuck yourself back onto him, whining and panting at the pleasure that swirls in the pit of your tummy.

The sound of skin slapping against skin is enough to have your eyes rolling back, the lewd sounds driving you even closer to the edge along with his rapid thrusts and continuous cursing. You’re positive you can hear him mumble about how ‘fucking tight your pussy’ is. You would’ve never guessed he was into such dirty talk, Mark continues to amaze you.

Your pussy swallows around his length when you feel his hand sneak beneath your body to reach between your fingers, the pads of his fingers rubbing diligent circles on your clit and you mewl, your own hand coming down to latch around his wrist.

“Sh...shit” You slur, drool seeping past the corner of your lips. “So good—Fuck, don’t stop—s’good”

“I’m not gonna stop” You hear Mark whisper and you could feel the tears build up in your eyes as Mark leans over your body, holding himself up with one hand on the arm of the sofa, his other playing with your clit as he quickens his thrusts, his cock hitting deeper than before that it has you seeing stars. Your toes curl and your body tenses up as his cock ploughs into your cunt, repeatedly hitting that spot over and over before your second orgasm of the night hits you violently.

Your screams are muffled by your own hand, walls pulsating around his cock as you cum, struggling to hold up your weight as your body falls limp on the sofa, pleasure buzzing through your veins and sending your mind whirling as Mark fucks you through it to reach his own high, moving his hand from your clit to rest on your lower back, arching your ass up to fuck you deeper.

“Where do you want me to cum?” He pants, his thumb stroking the top of your ass cheeks. “Fuck, tell me where I can cum”

“Anywhere you want” You garble your words, turning your head to the side to look at him, noticing how his eyes widen slightly.

“Anywhere?” Mark repeats as he slows his hips and you nod, yelping in shock when he pulls out of you completely and flips your body around once more, staring at him in surprise as he crawls up your body, resting his one hand on your cheek and pulling down your bottom lip with his thumb. “Here?”

Instead of giving him a verbal answer, you open wide and Mark grins, pushing the head of his cock into your mouth and sighing as your lips close around him, letting you suckle on his tip as he cums in long spurts down your throat, brows lacing together in pleasure and moaning softly as your tongue presses against his slit, drinking up everything he gives to you.

It’s silent between you both as Mark removes himself from above you, opting to crash down in the limited space between your body and the sofa, running his fingers through his sweaty hair as he breathes heavily.

It takes you a few seconds to comprehend what had just happened, staring between Mark’s naked lower half and yours before you abruptly sit up, rolling onto your knees as you stare down at him incredulously.

“Dude!” You screech, punching his shoulder with such force that has him wincing.

“Ow! Jesus Chri—”

“What the fuck?! Why did you tell me you were that good?” You immediately cut him off, not allowing him to speak as you shake your head. “We should’ve done this years ago!!”

Mark rolls his eyes in annoyance despite the grin that spreads across his lips as he throws his arm over his face, “Shut up”

“Okay, so, let me repeat that—” Renjun pauses to chew and swallow his sandwich, pointing between you and Mark on the opposite side of the table “—you two decided to fuck each other last night because neither of you have fucked someone in a long time and now you’ve made some sort of deal that when you can’t find release elsewhere, you’ll go to each other?”

“Yeah”

“What the fuck?!” Renjun exclaims, looking at you both as if you’ve grown an extra head before abruptly turning to Donghyuck and Jaemin who sit silently together, watching everything unfold. “Why aren’t you guys saying anything?!”

“I don’t think it’s as bad as you’re making it out to be” Donghyuck shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly as he turns to look at you with his brows laced together, “Although, I’m kind of offended you didn’t ask me to fuck you”

You grimace, “It makes me queasy thinking about where your dick has been”

“When was the last time you got tested, Hyuck?” Mark teases, a slight smirk curling at the end of his lips as he leans back into his chair, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his pants. Donghyuck rolls his eyes and retaliates by throwing him the middle finger to which Mark laughs at.

“And you’re okay with this?” Renjun questions Jaemin who slowly nods as he rolls a blunt beneath the table, lips pursed in concentration.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He grumbles, lifting his eyes to Renjun and raises a brow before looking back down to his lap. “Besides, sometimes I get so faded that I can’t even get my dick up. She needs good dick and I can’t give it to her when I’m that out of it”

You gasp in awe, reaching out to pinch his cheek, “You are so thoughtful!”

“So I’m the only sane person that thinks this is a stupid idea?” Renjun shakes his head in disbelief, biting into his sandwich with a sigh. His eyes widen, a piece of lettuce hanging from his mouth as he erratically pats his pockets, “Where’s Jeno? Somebody text Jeno”

“You know damn well Jeno isn’t going to give a shit” Donghyuck cackles. “Pretty sure he fucked his best girl friend last year”

“Yeah? And where is she now?” Renjun looks at you all for an answer and you frown, sinking into your seat with your arms crossed over your chest, “Exactly!!”

“Come on, dude, it’s not like that…” Mark tries to explain. “We talked about it. We’re not doing any of that exclusive or official stuff, we’re not making it weird”

“Meaning we can still fuck whoever we want” You add on, turning to look at Jaemin with a pretty smile and he looks back at you with a smirk, dropping his left eye into a flirtatious wink before resuming back in rolling his joint.

“So, what I’m hearing is—” Donghyuck pauses, leaning his elbows on his table and resting his chin on the palm of his hand as he bats his eyelashes at you, “There’s still a chance for you to fuck me?”

“I have more of a chance of getting fucked than you, Hyuck” Jeno’s voice interrupts from behind and you whiz around in your seat, grinning as you see Jeno nearing towards your table with his jacket in one hand and his books in the other.

He greets you all with a smile, placing his belongings down on the table before grabbing an empty chair from another, scraping the metal across the floor as he drags it to place beside Mark, slapping his hand down on his shoulder in greeting as he sits.

“Anyway, what are we talking about?”

“Mark and Y/N fucked” Renjun immediately jumps into it and you sigh, throwing your head back in frustration as Mark laughs beside you. “And they’re going to continue to fuck whenever they have no one else to, so—”

“Cool”

Renjun stares at Jeno incredulously. “That’s not cool!! You’re all helpless, every single one of you”

Jeno pulls a face, “You know, it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be—”

“That’s what I said~” Donghyuck sings.

“—and besides, they’re grown adults, they can do whatever they want” Jeno’s words make your brows raise with little surprise, watching as he flips open his book and grabs the pen that rests behind his ear, tugging off the cap with his teeth before looking at you, “I’m surprised it took you this long to actually hook-up, I thought it would’ve happened months ago”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just means I thought you two would’ve fucked months ago” Jeno smiles and shrugs innocently, blowing the cap out of his mouth and catching it with his hand before he begins scribbling on the pages and you roll your eyes, craning your neck over your shoulder to look at Mark who shrugs his own shoulders, not fully understanding the meaning of Jeno’s words but chooses not to dwell on it any longer as he reaches for his drink, sipping through the straw as he gives his attention to Donghyuck who angles his phone in his direction to show him something that you could barely see.

Renjun shakes his head in disbelief, shoving the last remaining bite of his sandwich into his mouth and grabbing his own book out of his backpack to take notes alongside Jeno before comically raising his head up to point his pen at you and Mark.

“Also, I don’t want to hear any complaining from either of you when this whole ‘friends with benefits relationship’ bullshit ends up going to literal shit” Renjun warns before slowly turning the pen to point it as himself, “Because I will laugh in your face and simply say, ‘I told you so’”

A scoff leaves your lips as Mark speaks up, “Relax, dude, everything is going to be fine. And besides, it could just be a one time thing… It might not even happen again” Mark eyes you, “Right?”

Your lips curl into a smile as you lean your elbows on the table, chin resting on the palm of your hand as you give him a short nod, “Right”

“Mark, Mark, Mark” You moan out his name repeatedly, back arching off of your bed and gripping the pillows behind your head, mouth open wide as Mark’s fingers pump in and out of your pussy, waves of slick splashing onto the sheets below and his boxers. He laughs as you shove your face into your arm, body trembling and whines slipping past your lips from the overwhelming sensation of him fucking you with his fingers.

Your legs clamp shut around his hand but he’s already prying you back open with his other, holding them down to the bed as his fingers curl up into the sweet spot that has you trembling through your orgasm, almost bringing yourself to tears at the pressure in the pit of your tummy.

“There we go…” Mark hums, milking you for every drop you can give. You quiver and gasp as Mark comes to a stop, grinning as he pulls his fingers away from your cunt and you mewl, struggling to raise your foot and kick him in his side but he captures your ankle in his grasp, drawing circles with his fingertips. “You good?”

“You good” You mock with a scoff, arms flopping to your sides as you take a deep breath, ignoring the way Mark laughs again. “I felt like I was going crazy... that was intense”

“Thank you” Mark cheeses, eyes beaming as he slips off of your bed. “You need to change your sheets though”

“So gentlemanly of you to offer to help” You mutter sarcastically under your breath with a tut, standing up from the bed and your knees buckle beneath you, causing you to reach out and grab onto a surface to steady yourself, throwing your middle finger up in Mark’s direction as he snickers.

He tells you to go shower while he takes care of the sheets and you immediately oblige, patting his arm in a quick thank you as you wobble out of your bedroom and into the bathroom, eager to clean yourself up after previous activities.

You take a little longer than usual to shower, taking your time to scrub your body clean and even wash your hair, not even caring about what Mark could be doing inside your home as he waits for you, but you pause your routine as you begin to think about your relationship with Mark.

You’ve been hooking up for almost three weeks, showing up at each other's place whenever you’re in need of sex and getting the deed done before hanging out, getting a bite to eat or even watching something on the TV. You still sleep with Jaemin, you’ve even fucked Jaemin and Mark on the same day. Mark doesn’t care, and personally neither do you, but you start to recall the amount of times you have chosen Mark over Jaemin, and it was a lot.

You and Mark fuck whenever you have no one else to go to, yet given the choices… you still choose Mark.

“Dude!” Mark bangs his fist on the bathroom door, yanking you out of your thoughts, “I need to piss, hurry up!”

“Just come in!” You yell back at him, frowning as you face the stream of water to let the soap run off your body as you mumble, “It’s not like you haven’t barged in before”

You hear the door yank open behind the shower curtain and you poke your head around just in time for Mark to unzip his pants to relieve himself, his head tilting back with a sigh. His eyes meet yours and his brows pull together, giving you an odd look.

“What?”

“Can I ask you a question?” He blinks before giving you a nod, “Are you still fucking other people?”

“Yeah” That answer relieves you a bit. “I was with Arin last weekend”

“Okay, I have another question”

“Why are you—”

“I’m asking the questions” You cut him off and he chuckles, nodding for you to continue as he zips up his pants and washes his hands. “Has Arin, or any other girl, been available on the same day that I’ve asked you to come over?”

“Um…” Mark ponders for a moment, his bottom lip poking out in deep thought as he dries his hands on the towel. “Yeah, I think so”

“And who did you choose to go to?”

“You” It shocks you at how fast he answers and you grip the shower curtain for support, the slippery floor of the shower almost making you tumble. He chose you too. Is that wrong? You’re uncertain and it makes you feel a little uneasy. Surely there must be a reasonable explanation to why you choose each other instead of fucking the other available people. “Why are you asking me that anyways?”

“Curious” You say as you close the curtain shut to block him out and continue showering, ignoring the way he’s laughing and muttering beneath his breath how funny you are. “Wait, I have another question—”

“Ask me when you’re done showering”

“Why?” Your voice turns sultry as you begin to smirk, “Is knowing that I’m naked behind this flimsy shower curtain turning you on?”

Mark doesn’t answer, instead his arm shoots out from behind the curtain, hand curling around the tap to turn the temperature of the water, laughing like a maniac as he hears you scream from the cold water that splashes on your skin.

You hated birthdays.

Realistically, you hated your birthday. You hated knowing you’re getting older every year, desperately wanting to go back to the ages where all you worried about was not making a fool of yourself in front of someone you crushed on or not knowing the biggest high school gossip about who was seeing who behind whoever's back. Now, at your growing age, all you worry about is failing college and not being able to get a good job to provide a future for yourself.

You wish nobody knew it was your birthday, but having such close friends who knew you better than you knew yourself, it wasn’t going to be easy, and you nearly spun around and darted out of campus when you saw Donghyuck twirling a gift bag in hand with helium balloons that spelled out ‘birthday girl’ in big, bold letters tied to his wrist.

“Oh! There she is!”

You wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

“Happy birthday!” Donghyuck yells loudly when you reach their circle, letting your backpack drop to the grass beside Jaemin who looks up at you with a dopey smile. Donghyuck shoves the gift bag into your lap when you finally sit down, huffing at the weight of the bag. “I bought you something!!”

“We told him not to” Jeno tells you, a cigarette hanging between his lips as he looks at you through his bangs, “But as always, Donghyuck doesn’t listen”

“And I never will” Donghyuck chirps, untying the string of the balloons from around his wrist to tie them around yours instead, ignoring the dark look you give him as he smiles cheekily at you, “Look inside. It’s all the essentials you need, pretty”

“I swear to god, If you—”

“Shh” He presses his fingers against your lips. “Less talking, more looking”

You roll your eyes, whacking his hand away from your face before peering into the bag, a soft laugh leaving your lips when you first see two bottles of your favourite alcoholic beverage and a few chocolates, but you immediately deadpan when you see a pack of condoms and a plan B box sandwiched between the pair, staring back at you.

Jaemin peers over your shoulder to drop a premade joint and a few gummies into the bag for later but makes a funny noise when he sees the condom pack, dipping his hand inside the bag to pull it out, throwing it back at Donghyuck who fumbles to catch it.

“Hey—”

“She doesn’t use condoms”

Donghyuck gapes, slowly turning his head towards you with his eyes wide as he leans forward, his nose brushing against yours as he speaks lowly, “Are you sure you don’t want to fuck me?”

“Positive” You giggle and pat his cheek as he whines in defeat, slumping back into his own space. “Thank you for the gifts, but please… you know I hate celebrating my birthday. And were the balloons really necessary too? Did you have to make it more obvious?”

“But the balloons are pretty” Donghyuck frowns, tugging on the string.

“She doesn’t like balloons, dude”

Your head whizzes around so quickly that you’re positive you could hear it crack at the speed, grinning wildly when you see Mark standing behind you looking at your balloons in disgust, and your brows raise in surprise when you see Arin beside him. You greet her with a wave and she reciprocates, wishing you a quiet happy birthday which you thank her for and you gesture them both to join you in your circle but Arin shakes her head with an apology, announcing that she has to meet up with someone else.

You watch as she places her hand on Mark’s bicep and asks if they can meet up later but Mark shakes his head, telling her that he already has plans and her face deflates before nodding in understanding, bidding him and the rest of you goodbye before leaving.

Mark lets out a huff as he drops down to the grass, stretching out his legs and knocking his foot against yours, mouthing you a quick happy birthday and you smile in gratitude.

“Arin seems to be hanging out with you a lot recently” Jeno points out, taking a drag of his cigarette and blowing out the smoke in Renjun’s direction, causing him to cough and swat the smoke away with the book he’s got his face buried in. “You like her?”

Mark shakes his head, “No. She was just asking me if I wanted to come over this weekend”

“Are you?”

“Nah” Mark mindlessly starts plucking the grass, avoiding everyone's eyes as they zone in on him. “I don’t have time, got some assignments to finish for my classes”

Hearing him say he hasn’t got the time sparks interest in you and you begin to wonder if Mark would end up asking you for some well needed release. It excites you, especially when you realise you haven’t been under or on top of him in a few days and you press your thighs together at the thought of possibly being dicked down sooner rather than later.

It’s a birthday gift, you think to yourself when you try to give an excuse to why you’re so needy to be fucked by Mark. It’s just a birthday gift. Yet, you have Jaemin right beside you, someone who’s easily available and someone who used to be frequent in giving you the best birthday sex.

You could ask Jaemin to come over tonight, but why isn’t the question being asked? Why does it feel like you’re stopping yourself from asking something so simple and easy? Perhaps you’re so used to sleeping with Mark that it doesn’t even occur to you to ask someone else anymore. Jaemin doesn’t seem to be bothered, maybe because he’s been getting his fix elsewhere too, so why does it bother you?

A soft call of your name brings you out of your thoughts and you turn your head towards the source, seeing Mark looking back at you with a kind smile. He shuffles further into the circle to get closer to you, voice dipping low as he speaks.

“Come home with me later? I have something for you”

“What is it?” You ask back, excitement filling your voice. Even though you weren’t a big fan of celebrating your birthday and receiving gifts, there was no doubt in your mind that Mark was probably one of the best people to receive gifts from, knowing he usually goes above and beyond to give you the most memorable birthday. You smile when you remember the three-day spa voucher he gave you last year when he had taken you away for the weekend.

It was the most breath-taking cabin you have ever been to, the sunset above the lake still photographed in your memory. The sight was beautiful, and you were grateful to have seen it with your best friend.

“You’ll find out” Mark tells you with a smile, refusing to give you a hint of any sort as he turns his attention to Renjun to engage in a conversation and you pout, shoulders slumping in defeat and Donghyuck knocks his arm against yours, voice dipping low as he whispers in your ear.

“That plan B will come in handy after all—OUCH!”

“This is fucking ridiculous” You giggle as you’re blindly walked in Mark’s apartment, his hands covering your eyes to prevent you from seeing anything even though you tried to peek through the gaps between his fingers. Mark’s chest rumbles against your back as he laughs, waiting for you to toe off your shoes at the entrance before leading you further into the apartment.

You have the layout completely mapped out in your head from the amount of times you’ve been at his place, already knowing that he’s bringing you into the kitchen just by the cold marbling that you feel beneath your feet.

You almost trip as Mark plants you down on a chair and he whispers a countdown in your ears before he removes his hands from your face. Your vision is blurry for a moment and you try to adjust to your surroundings with a few blinks, your jaw dropping in awe as the splotches begin to disperse, allowing you to see what’s in front of you.

“Are you kidding me?” You whisper softly in astonishment at the gifts that are presented in front of you on the table. You spot a few of your favourite scented candles stacked on top of each other, a bottle of perfume that you were 100% sure that was sitting in your wishlist on an online store you were browsing a few days prior and a miniature bag with the logo of your favourite jewellery store.

You feel overwhelmed, the urge to cry becoming harder to keep at bay as your eyes water and sting, throat tightening over how thoughtful Mark had been. You turn your head towards him with your bottom lip quivering and Mark snickers, pulling a party hat from god knows where and comes closer to you

“You asshole” You insult jokingly, using the sleeves of your shirt to wipe at your eyes, hoping that the tears wouldn’t dare fall as Mark secures the pointed hat on top of your head. You point to it, “Isn’t this a little cheesy?”

Mark rolls his eyes, snapping the elastic bad against your chin for extra measure and you hiss at the slight sting it causes, punching his arm in retaliation but he pays no mind, smiling to himself as he faces his back to you as he pulls open the refrigerator door to pick up a white squared box. He balances it on the palm of his hand with ease, using his foot to kick the refrigerator door shut as he makes his way back to you.

You’re grinning widely at the thought of what could be inside the box even though you’ve already guessed its cake, rubbing your hands together excitingly as Mark places it on the counter and gently slides it over to you, the box still in his grasp as it stops in front of you, drumming his fingers on the cardboard.

Sensing your eagerness, Mark lifts the lid off of the box and the excitement on your face drops almost instantly, turning blank as you peek inside to see the miniature watermelon themed cake staring back at you. You raise your head at Mark who’s already grinning at you, tongue poking at his cheek as he opens up a drawer to retrieve two plastic forks, twiddling them between his fingers.

You deadpan, “Are you sure we’re not celebrating your birthday right now?”

“Shut up, you like watermelon just as much as I do” Mark scoffs, handing you one of the plastic forks and you take it out of his grasp with a smile. You go to take a piece but Mark makes a weird noise, causing you to freeze mid cut. “Wait—dude—jesus, let me take a photo first”

You roll your eyes but happily oblige as Mark fishes his phone out of his pocket and angles it towards you. You pose, pointing to the cake with a wide grin, almost blinded by the flash when Mark takes the picture and you immediately rub at your eyes, trying to get rid of the blotches with a few creative curse words that make Mark laugh.

He quickly takes this opportunity to slide beside you and holds his phone high to take a selfie of you both. You poke out your tongue, using your free hand to make bunny ears behind Mark’s head who grins and uses his own free hand to grip your cheeks and squeeze to force you into pulling a weird face.

Before you have the chance to complain, you gasp in shock when you feel the coldness of the cake’s frosting touch your cheek and the shutter of the camera goes off when Mark takes another photo, capturing you mid chaos as you dig your fingers into the side of the cake to smush a piece against his cheek, grinning evilly as the green frosting covers his skin.

“Alright, I deserved that” Mark sighs with a light laugh, making sure his phone is tucked away and out of the icing zone. “Makes a good blackmail photo though, don’t you think?”

“If that goes anywhere, I will kill you”

“You already know that's going on my Instagram, baby~” Mark teases you and you scoff jokingly, shaking your head as you reach for the napkins that are laying on the side, trying your best to wipe away the frosting before it drops and stains your clothing.

Mark manages to clean himself easily but notices you struggling, deciding to help you out as he picks up another napkin and takes a hold of your chin, facing you towards him as he gently taps at your cheek, careful not to rub too hard at your skin.

You’re suddenly aware of the close proximity and you grow silent, watching as he cleans you up. The concentrated look on his face causes your stomach to whirl and chest feel warm, his brows furrowed and eyes narrowed in on the area he needs to clean, tongue swiping over his bottom lip.

“Mark…” You call out his name softly to grab his attention and he pauses, staring right at you. He seems to notice how close you both are too as he takes in the limited space between you both, slowly taking his hand away from your face but he stops himself with a quiet noise, bringing his hand back to finish his job.

“Happy birthday, dude” Mark whispers to you as he finally wipes the frosting off of your cheeks, smiling down at you with adoration swirling in his eyes.

Your breathing stops for a moment at the affectionate gaze, unsure of what to say or what to do with him looking at you the way he is. Your hands move up to take the birthday hat off of your head, dropping it to the side carelessly as you curl your arms around his shoulders, pushing up onto your tiptoes to embrace him.

Mark’s arms slither around your waist, holding you close to his chest as he hugs you back, burying his face in the crevice of your neck and exhaling deeply.

“I’m so thankful” You mutter, squeezing him tight as the emotions within you struggle to be contained. “Truly, Mark. I’m grateful too… Thank you for making this birthday special again”

“It’s not over yet, you know” You hear him mumble. You go to pull back, to ask him what more he could possibly give you to top everything else but he’s already bending his knees, arms falling down to lock around your thighs and throwing you over his shoulder with a huff, smacking his hand roughly against your ass as he carries your giggly self to the bedroom.

Friday nights will always be your favourite nights to let loose and party: dressing up in your prettiest outfit that makes you feel confident, decorating your body with the shiniest jewellery you own and drinking the most intoxicating drink you could find while mingling with your friends.

Talking with your girls face to face after a week of classes had unfailingly lifted your mood, catching up with all the gossip you missed or briefly discussed over the phone, adding your own two cents into a situation which they eagerly agree with a nod their heads, tapping their cups to yours before taking a sip.

“Speaking of unusual relationships—” Sakura, one of your dearest friends, speaks up as she turns to look at you with a grin. “—girl, how’s it going with you and Mark? Things turned weird yet?”

“Nope” You shake your head, buzzing happily. “We’re fine. The whole hooking up with your best friend culture isn’t as complicated as everyone makes it out to be. Everyone gets dramatic about that shit”

Sua lets out a heavy sigh, nursing her drink in her hand. “I don’t know how you do it… I couldn’t imagine hooking up with Yeonjun. I mean, he’s attractive, but we’ve seen and know too much about each other to get physical on an intimate level. Props to you”

Heejin looks at you. “Do you still fuck Jaemin?”

“On occasion” You admit. “But honestly, I’ve been so wrapped in assignments—”

“And Mark”

You give Sakura a smirk, “—that I haven’t really had time to call up Jaemin and ask to fuck. Besides, he doesn’t mind. He’s been busy smoking and selling weed for extra cash”

“What about Mark? Is he still fucking around?”

You pause at that, lips pursing deep in thought before you shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know. I haven’t asked recently”

Sua gestures over your shoulder, “Looks like you’re about to find out the answer”

You crane your neck to follow the direction she’s pointing in, noticing Mark standing near a back wall with a drink in hand, deep in conversation with Arin who’s smiling and nodding to each word he’s speaking to her.

Feeling your eyes on him, Mark looks up to capture your gaze, raising his drink in greeting and you grin, lifting your own cup and watching as he resumes back in conversation.

You take in his appearance with interest: a baggy white shirt paired with some loose fitted pants and doc martens you’re certain he stole from Donghyuck. A silver chain hangs from his neck and a cap sits backwards on the top of his head, you stifle a laugh at how much of a fuckboy he looks but you must admit, he looks good.

“Subtle with the lovey dovey eyes, sweetheart” Sakura teases, nudging your shoulder to bring your attention back to her and you laugh, tipping your head back to finish the contents of your drink. “He looks good though, so I don’t blame you”

“When was the last time you fucked Mark?” You aim your question towards Heejin who shrugs her shoulders.

“I don’t remember” She smacks her lips together. “Definitely more than two months, that’s for sure… No disrespect to you but god I miss his cock. How he walks around with that thing completely baffles me”

Sua's eyes widen. “Is Mark’s cock big?”

“Yes” You and Heejin answer instantly, causing you both to laugh and high five each other. You drone out the complaints Sua makes about wanting to fuck someone with a huge cock and how Yeonjun always recommends her people that are both shitty in bed and lack personality, too focused on looking around the room to find a clear path to get more drinks, dismissing yourself from the girls for a moment as you spot Jeno and Jaemin pouring vodka into each others cups.

You bound over to your boys, throwing your arms around their shoulders and startling them both with your presence, but Jaemin lazily smiles when he sees it's you and presses a chaste kiss to your temple as Jeno pats the back of your head in greeting, offering to fill your cup up which you happily give him.

“Where have you been?” Jaemin asks you, taking your hand in his and whirls you around, whistling lowkey as he takes in your dress. “You look pretty”

“Catching up with my girls because I spend way too much time with you guys” You explain, but cheesily grin at the compliment he gives you on your outfit and bow. Jeno hands you your drink back and you thank him, taking a quick sip as your eyes glance around the room. “Where’s the rest of the guys anyway?”

“Donghyuck’s trying to get laid and Renjun’s around here somewhere chatting up a girl from his classes” Jeno informs, gulping down his drink with ease. “Mark’s been talking with Arin for the past hour—sweet girl is trying to make her move”

“Why aren’t you trying to show off your charms tonight?”

Jeno stares at you suggestively, smirking behind the rim of his cup. “Why would I when I got you and Jaemin right here?”

Your tongue pokes at your cheek, struggling to fight the urge not to smile. “Not funny. It was a one time thing, Lee… You were only there because Jaemin felt guilty he couldn’t last long enough to make me cum”

“Still had you screaming on my dick though” Jeno teases, gently knocking his fingers against your cheeks as you laugh. “And don’t worry, I haven’t told anyone. Pretty sure if I tell Donghyuck I actually did get to fuck you before him, he’d end up losing his mind”

You ponder it for a moment, “It would be kind of funny though”

“What would be funny?”

“Donghyuck!” You squeal as he appears beside Jeno, staring at you all with a confused look but grins when you throw yourself in his arms to hug him tightly, swaying you both back and forth. “I thought you were trying to get laid?”

“I was” Donghyuck sighs, pulling away from the hug but keeping an arm wrapped around your middle. “But she had a boyfriend and he’s, like, six foot something and I didn’t feel like getting my ass handed back to me by slenderman himself”

You pout, pinching his cheek. “What a shame. The dry spell continues”

Donghyuck leans into your touch, batting his eyelashes prettily at you with a smirk. “You can change that for me if you want”

“In your dreams”

Donghyuck sighs jokingly, dropping his head low as his shoulders sag. “Guess I’ll keep on dreaming then. You sound even prettier when you’re moaning my name there—”

“What’s going on?”

The sound of Mark’s voice speaking up behind you causes you to whiz around quickly, beaming as your eyes meet his but it falters slightly when you notice the fake smile he’s sporting, wanting to turn the question around and ask him what’s going on.

But you didn’t want to bring attention to the subject, knowing it’ll make Mark uncomfortable putting him on the spot despite him continuously being open with the others. It’s not something to speak publicly about if it’s serious.

You touch his arm and give him a comforting squeeze to which he seems to relax, using your grip on him to tug you into his side and for Donghyuck’s arm to slip from your waist.

“The usual. Donghyuck trying to get her into his bed” Jeno fills him in, fishing a strawberry flavoured vape out of his pocket to take a drag and Jaemin retches at the smell, wafting it away with his hand. “How’s Arin?”

“Fine” Mark quips, licking at his lips as he turns to you. “Do you want to get out of here? Just me and you”

Donghyuck immediately takes offence to that, “What about us? We all came here together, man!”

“I’m taking her home to fuck her, Hyuck” Mark deadpans, giving him an unamused look while your tummy swirls with excitement. “Do you want to watch?”

“Well—”

“I was kidding”

You’re in complete bliss with Mark hovering above you, your back arched, bare chest pressed to his as he nips and licks at your neck, his hips lazily grinding into yours, cock hitting deeper than he’s ever been.

The pace is slow, something that you’re not used to when it comes to Mark, but you don’t find the voice within yourself to complain, fingers winding through his hair with cries spilling from your lips, legs hooking over his waist.

He’s grunting in the crevice of your neck with each deep thrust, one hand caressing the side of your face while the other rests beside your head, stopping himself from laying his entire body weight on you.

You’re whining from the loss of contact when he moves his head away, missing the feeling of his teeth on your skin and looking up at him pleadingly but he’s frozen staring down at you, despite his hips thrusting automatically into you.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty” You barely hear him mumble and your heart pounds in your chest at the compliment, body feeling a little more heated and warm.

“Mark—”

He cuts off your words by planting his lips on yours with the most sweetest and soft kiss, and you melt into the touch, fingers untangling from his hair to cup his cheeks in your palms, gasping through the kiss as Mark’s cock slowly pulls out of your pussy before pushing back in, causing electricity to shoot up your spine.

The band in your tummy tightens with each slow but powerful thrust he gives you, thighs quivering around his frame, unable to keep up with his kisses as your mouth falls open with short gasps and whines, white specs flickering in your vision as you feel yourself inching closer and closer over the edge.

“Cum” Mark whispers, breath fanning over your face. “Do it. Cum on my cock”

You wail as the band snaps, orgasm crashing down on you violently. Your body convulses, pussy squeezing around his cock, keeping him buried deep which has him moaning, his own hips stuttering as he cums. You feel him pulsing inside, painting your walls white as he fills you up.

Mark’s head slumps down on your shoulder as you try to catch your breath, cringing and wincing as you feel him slowly moves his hips back to pull his cock out of your sensitive pussy, your hand falling from his face to drop down to your centre, gathering his cum that pools out on your fingers.

“I’m sorry” Mark mumbles against your skin. “I’m sorry, I—shit, I should’ve asked if I could, you know—” Mark raises his hand to make a jerking off motion which causes you to snort. “—I got too overwhelmed. I’m sorry”

“It’s kinda cute that you’re apologising” You admit, gently pushing him off of your body to sit upright. “But you don’t need to apologise. This isn’t the first time you came in me, Mark”

“I know” Mark runs his fingers through his sweaty bangs. “I usually ask though”

“Mark. It’s fine” You reassure him, placing your palm on his bicep. “I’ll forgive you if you help clean me up though”

Mark smiles softly as he slips off of the bed, disappearing out of the room for a moment and returning with a wet towel. He sits between your legs as he gently cleans up the mess, gently dabbing around your sensitive areas and whispering apologies after apologies every time you hiss at the contact, thighs closing around his hand which he carefully pries open to resume his job.

You watch in silence as he cleans you up and you frown at the troubled look you see on his face, not used to seeing Mark being so closed up with his feelings and emotions. Mark hasn’t been open with you in a few weeks, he hasn’t come to you and asked for your reassurance or help. It makes you feel a little bit defeated.

Something was different, and you struggled to pinpoint what it was.

The questions lay on the tip of your tongue, desperate to be asked and even more desperate to get the answers you’ve been craving. Your relationship with Mark has changed since the proposition you’ve made about sleeping together, but he was still your best friend.

“What’s going on?” You finally ask. Mark freezes, hand clutching the wet towel in his grasp tightly. “And don’t lie to me. I can tell when you’re being truthful or not—”

“What am I to you?” Mark questions and you're a little stunned at your question being answered with his own question. He takes his hand away as you blink at him, feeling confused. “Even with all, like, this going on… what am I to you?”

“You’re my best friend?”

Mark seems to frown deeply at that, “So nothing has changed? At all? Even with us sleeping together? I’m still your best friend?”

“I—of course!” You’re baffled, assuming that with the way Mark is speaking about yours and his situation that he was worried that you’d have negative feelings towards him. You’re eager to reassure him, to let him know that everything is okay. “Mark, you’ll always be my best friend. We promised nothing would change. I’m keeping that promise”

Mark closes his eyes as his shoulders sink, “Dude, I—” He drops his head with a sigh. “I can’t do this anymore”

“Do what?” You ask quietly, bringing your knees up to your chest.

“This” He gestures between the two of you. “I just—I can’t. Not anymore. I can’t continue sleeping with you”

“Oh” You swallow thickly, a little surprised. “Why?”

“Things have changed” His voice is quieter now and it makes your heart crumble at the tone. Does he hate you? “I can’t continue whatever this is and be your best friend. It has to stop, it—” Mark sighs, rubbing at his forehead. “It can’t go on, I’m sorry”

“It’s okay” You mumble as your chin rests on your knees, hugging your legs closer to your chest to cover your modesty. You refuse to look at him now, finding interest in the sheets below you both as your throat tightens at the thought of him hating you so much that he can’t do anything with you no more. “I’m sorry too, by the way. I don’t know what I did you make you hate me, but I—”

“Wait, what?”

“—I’m just sorry. Especially if I came across too strong and for putting you in such a position” You’re babbling your words now, unable to control yourself due to the overwhelmed feeling that washes over you. “Fuck, I’m so sorry”

“Wait. I don’t—”

“Let’s just not tell the others, okay?” You raise your head to meet his eyes this time. He’s looking straight at you, confusion and disbelief swimming in his irises but you ignore it, chewing the inner skin of your cheek. “Mostly Renjun. I don’t really want to hear him laugh in our faces and give us the whole ‘I told you so’ speech he threatened us with at the start”

Mark calls out your name softly and reaches out to touch you but you’re already climbing off of the bed, looking for your underwear and dress that was thrown across the room due to prior activities.

You’re too embarrassed to continue the conversation, to ask him what exactly you did to make him grow to hate you. Truthfully, you didn’t really want to dwell on it too much, the pain of losing someone like Mark already making your heart ache.

You just wanted to go home—to be in the comfort of your own bed and curse yourself out, and probably cry to the point you might forget everything that just happened. You are feeling a little teary, but you wouldn’t dare to cry in front of Mark right now.

“I’ll, uh, see you around” You mutter, shoving the heels onto your feet, casting one final look his way. “I’m sorry”

It's been almost two weeks since your last encounter with Mark.

You shouldn’t be avoiding him like you are. It’s childish. But you can’t force yourself to face someone who used to be your best friend and now hates you.

Maybe you should’ve waited a few more minutes, to give him time to explain the entire situation and how he was feeling but you were selfish, you didn’t want to hear him explain in detail what you had done to make him change his feelings towards you.

You miss him. Of course you miss him. He’s been your best friend for years—your other half, more like. There was no you without Mark and vice versa. You weren’t exactly sure on how you could continue functioning with Mark by your side, as dramatic as it sounds, but you’ve always been dramatic.

The other boys have been blowing up your phone—courtesy of you ignoring them too, not wanting to hear Renjun rub it in your face on how the ‘friends with benefits bullshit’ you had with Mark did actually go to shit. And you didn’t want to hear the others continuously question what had happened and what had changed.

You’re not the type to let anyone know your worries, but you’re surprised when you find yourself explaining to your roomie what happened.

She gave you a deadpanned look, calling you stupid for not staying behind and listening despite you voicing that you couldn’t bear to listen to why his feelings had suddenly turned negative towards you. Your face twisted and turned, offended at her harsh words but you allowed yourself to let her talk and not jump in even though you desperately wanted to.

“You’re jumped to your own conclusion” She told you when she was clearly up the dishes. “You know, for two close best friends who talk to each other every second of the day, you sure have some serious miscommunication issues”

So that’s what leads you to now: you sitting alone in the living room with your phone in hand, staring down at yours and Mark’s chat room with your thumb between your teeth, biting down on the skin anxiously as you try to figure out how to start a conversation, to let him know you will listen.

you: i think we need to talk.

mark: i’m almost at ur house anyway i had to go get something

you: ???? u coming over

mark: yeah mark: i was going to make u listen to me mark: its important dude.

You snort at his last message, sending a quick thumbs up emoji before throwing your phone to the side, awaiting his arrival. You catch your leg nervously bobbing in the corner of your vision and your brows furrow, placing your hand down on your knee and squeezing tight. As if that will stop you from feeling nervous.

You’re about to hear the reason why Mark’s feelings had changed for you so negatively, nothing can prepare you for it. Bite the bullet. Take it like a champ.

The rapid knock on the door rips you out of your thoughts, slowly turning your head with a confused look plastered across your face. Was that Mark? Mark never knocks—he freely walks in like it’s his own place usually, always makes himself at home.

You push yourself up from the sofa and make your way towards the door, peeping through the hole to see Mark’s form, teeth nibbling at his bottom lip with his hands behind his back, swaying back and forth nervously. You grow even more confused and concerned, unlocking the door and pulling it open to face him fully.

“Why did you kno—”

“Hate you?!” He cuts you off with a shout, immediately startling you with his tone. His eyes are wide as he stares at you, full of disbelief. “Hate you, I—jesus christ—how could I hate you?! Dude, I’d never hate you… god, you’re so frustrating sometimes”

Your lips quirk upwards, “Nice to see you too”

“I don’t hate you, at all… When I said to you that things have changed, I didn’t mean anything bad by it… it’s actually quite the opposite…” Mark trails off and before you can get the chance to ask him to explain what he means, your breath hitches at the back of your throat as he pulls his hands from behind his back: a bag of jellies in one and a handful of ripped up flowers in the other. Your heart thumps rapidly. “I’m going to tell you something and I just—I need you to listen”

You barely whisper, “Okay”

“Being in this friends with benefits relationship with you was not as easy as I thought it was going to be” Mark tells you, his honesty making you pull your attention away from the things in his hands to his eyes. “We promised each other that we’re not going to involve any of that official or exclusive title bullshit to make it complicated for us… yet here I am standing in front of you right now with the same jellies and flowers in my hand from when we first met about to confess my fucking feelings to you, I’m so—”

“You’re rambling” You cut him off quietly, a smile creeping onto your lips.

“Right, yeah, of course I am” Mark laughs with a shake of his head, awkwardly scratching his neck before he straightens out, keeping his eyes on yours. “I fell for you. I think I sort of realised it on your birthday but I didn’t want to say anything just in case I wasn’t really thinking straight… but when we were at that party and I saw the guys flirting with you, I realised how much I actually do like you and that it wasn’t my dick talking”

You snort as you repeat, “Dick talking”

“Shut up” He smiles at you, his own laugh fleeting past his lips. “I’m in love with you, dude. And I totally get it if you want to reject me because of how weirdly this turned out but, uh, I would like to continue seeing you if I could be your... boyfriend”

You’re too busy repeating his confession in your head to notice that Mark is waiting for an answer, bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he bites down nervously, visibly shaking for excitement or the fact that he just confessed his entire feelings—you weren’t sure.

The silence from you kills Mark, and his face drops when you step forward to quietly take the flowers and the jellies out of his hand and step back inside the house. His shoulders slump in defeat, taking your non verbal response as a rejection to his proposal of him being your boyfriend and he goes to turn around, to get the fuck off of your doorstep and hope that the intense embarrassment that he feels coursing through his veins is enough to make him disappear quickly.

But he freezes mid escape when he hears the rustling of you ripping open the pack of jellies, turning his head to see you looking at him with the most gentlest smile. He watches, chest erupting with warmth as you reach your arm out, angling the treat in his direction and a grin spreads across his face, unable to control the giggles that leave him.

You’re giving him a jelly, you’re giving him a relationship.

©𝗠𝗥𝗞𝗜𝗦

#nct smut #mark lee smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #nct mark smut #mark lee scenarios

7K notes · View notes

cherry-leclerc · 8 months ago

Text

purely platonic ☆ ln4

genre: fluff, maybe a bit of angst??, secret crushes, just two idiots who can't read the room of what we call 'feeeelingsss', they friendzone each other without knowing they're friendzoning each other BAHA

word count: 3.8k

It goes without saying that you and Lando are like two peas in a pod; always finding something to do. But when things suddenly shift after the summer break, it leaves you two to settle with the idea of one another with a rather doubtful mind.

req!...got this one a long time ago and the request was kind of confusing?? but i tried to make something out of it hahaha enjoyyy??

“Does this top make my boobs look big?”

Lando’s watercolor eyes quirk up, squint, then shakes his head full of curls. “You don’t have much to worry about.”

You muster a dirty glare before prancing over to the mirror, picking up a tube of gloss, laying it onto your plump lips. When you first started working at McLaren, you never truly thought you would end up here, on holidays with a witty British driver, but your friendship had blossomed rather quickly.

Don’t bother—they taste like absolute rubber.

Looking up to face the mysterious voice, you awkwardly choke, dainty hand dropping the last chocolate wafer.

Have you tried them?

Lando grins widely before reaching out to pick it up and popping it into his mouth. He winks.

Mmm. New recipe or something like that.

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” you call out, pulling the baby voice he hates with a strong passion. Rolling his eyes, he kicks his feet against the bed frame, twisting like a pretzel. As long as I don’t get a ransom call, then yes. Go. You’re giddy with excitement; pick up your purse, spray some perfume—probably the entire bottle—and finally peck his cheek, to which he grimaces, instantly pulling away.

“Make sure to wake me up once you’re back.”

You do. Patting him, you eagerly bounce up and down against the fluffy mattress. “Brazil was a mistake.” His lashes flutter tiredly, skin slightly pink from rubbing his eyelids. Why? Folding your legs beneath your butt, you huff, tangled hair flying towards him. He can almost smell the sea salt that lingers onto your clothes, the scent of aperol spritz. It makes him wonder how many you’ve taken as he props up against his elbows, dark brows drawn together with attentiveness.

“First of all, I paid for the entire thing.” No, he gasps. You nod, pursing your lips tightly. “I’ve never seen someone so tan turn paper white in a matter of seconds. It was quite fascinating, actually. Sucks,” you ponder, shoulders dropping drastically. “He was stupidly gorgeous too.”

I hate it when they do that. You laugh, eyes crinkling with true emotions for the first time that night. “He did dance like a pro though, oh God, I could barely keep up.” A lazy arm flies up to massage your neck, wincing as if you’ve just stubbed your toe against a brick wall. “I might have to see a chiro.” Tapping your finger against your chin, you close your eyes. “After all that, he invited me back to his place.”

The Brit sits up straight away, turns on the lamp that sits besides him. “Why are you here then?” he screeches. You curl a brow. The fuck is that supposed to mean? Lando sighs heavily and rubs his temples before flashing you with a pair of stern eyes. “We’re here to have fun, remember? Sex, sex, sex. That’s our priority.” The twenty-four year old relaxes against the comfy pillows. “We made a pact.”

“But I just—” You become visibly green, too grossed out with the idea. “He was handsome—don't get me wrong—a fucking hunk.” He gags. “Probably had a massive dick.” You’re disgusting! A giggle erupts while you wiggle your way underneath the covers. “But I think I need to form an actual connection with someone in order to actually…yeah. A connection.”

It was about five months ago that you got dumped. Constant travels, not enough quality time. Too much work, not enough fucking. Far too lovey dovey eyes batted towards a certain brunette—that’s where you drew the line. You stood up for yourself; for Lando. It had taken you years to gain his trust and now that you had an unbreakable bond, you weren’t going to let the first insecure man make you feel like shit for it. But he didn’t like it, leaving you to cry on someone else’s shoulder.

For some factor, the Brit felt bad. Perhaps it was his fault—perhaps he did intervene—but he was pissed too. For the way your ex had treated you, for him even considering the twenty-four year old would hit on somebody’s girlfriend. He knew the difference between flirting and a platonic relationship. Yeah. You were better off.

Brazil was great. Summer break was great. One night stands were great. At least he thought so.

Placing his hands over his broad chest, he releases a breath. “That’s actually pretty cute.” A sudden growl slides up your throat as you kick his shin. He scoots further away. “I only suggested because I thought it’d help…”

“Now you know.” A beat. “I can’t keep up with the Sex God.” Loopy eyes flicker over at him. “I’m talking about you, Sex Machine. Sex enthusiast. Can’t keep it in his pants— ”

He gruffs. “Understood.” He steals the blanket away as you squeal, hands flying out to tug it back towards your body. “Loud and clear.”

He had a plan to visit as many places as possible, and while that was fun for a while, you reasonably started to miss home. I’m tapping out, you would declare when you got to Bali, enjoying the view with an exhausted state. Last one. But he would somehow, always, convince you. There’d be too much to see. Too much to experience. And you would stay.

It’s only up until Australia where you find yourself taking an actual break. Maybe it was because you were staying at Daniel’s, but you were grateful nonetheless. Days consisted of hikes, rodeos, undercooked steak, wine, and dirt biking. Quite fun—definitely better than being back home feeding your pet fish. Ms. Lockwood has it all taken care of, thank you very much.

“This is nice,” the Australian murmurs as he bites down on a slice of pizza. “I’m glad you guys made a pitstop.”

Wandering eyes roam the open field, dusty boots kicked up against his car. “Us too.”

Lando clicks his tongue knowingly, tilting his head at you as you hush him. For once in his life, he was glad to have someone around. Oftentimes, there’d be moments where people would assume you two were dating—possibly even married—but it was simply an unhinged friendship. Exactly what he was looking for. Thank God all of that is over now.

“How long have you two been together?” Heidi asks sweetly, leaning against her boyfriend. Mid-sip, you spit, red wine painting Lando’s white tee. Bloody hell, he moans, drying his face with the back of his hand. “Sorry,” you gurgle. “We’re not…” When you gag, the Brit scoffs.

“She’s too immature. You think I would willingly sign up for that?” The couple share a skeptical glance, eyebrows raised to where he hands you a napkin. “Come on, mate, who do you take me for?”

As you both make your way over to the house, Daniel and Heidi settle into a deep conversation. There was not a single doubt within them that you two weren’t meant for one another. It made perfect sense—but why were you both so blinded to the idea?

“Hmm,” the blond says. “Two months of traveling together? That just doesn’t happen.” Heidi spins on her heel, facing the Australian. “There’s obviously a connection between them.”

Men like you are the reason I left Finland. Men like you are the reason I left Finland. A sip of water. Men like you are the reason I left Finla—

“What are you even talking about?” Lando groans from his seat. Peeking over at him, you shrug, and continue mumbling. “For the love of God, must you keep repeating yourself? You’re making a simple twenty minute drive feel like four hours—stop it already.”

Coldly glaring at him, you pinch your face like a clam and point a narrow finger at him. “Men like you are the reason I left Finland.”

The Brit lets out a scream and jumps towards you, slapping a large hand over your mouth. You squirm for a good minute before biting down, forcing him to pull away with a sudden hiss. “Rascal.”

The view was breathtaking; the white snow, the green trees, the sunlight beaming from afar. His agenda continued and you kept tagging along. You’ve never visited, so everything was a pleasing journey. Staring out the foggy window of the van, you pout, pondering. “You’ve seriously never watched Confessions of a Shopaholic?”

“A Cock-A-Who?”

You laugh. “Not even close. I’m not doing this again.”

You’re sure you get frostbite by the end of the day, but the Northern Lights make up for it. After snapping a couple thousand pictures, you finally settle down on the snow next to him. “Hey.” A white puff exits his mouth, chapped lips.

“Hey.”

The silence prolongs, then you let out a sore cough, taking a sip of hot chocolate. You can’t help but roll your eyes when you barely get a drop, realizing he had finished it all while you weren't looking. “Out of all the places we’ve been to, this has to be my favorite.” You direct your attention over to him. “Thank you for bringing me along. It means a lot.”

“Ah. Don’t mention it.”

You hum. “I never get bored of you.” You can hear his snowsuit scratch as he shifts to face you, wide eyes admiring the colorful lights. “I keep thinking I might—even just a little bit—but I don’t. It’s weird.”

He chuckles, relaxing. “I’m glad you haven’t. We’ve been traveling for a while now, so if that were the case, then I’d be worried.”

Pursing your lips, you let out a sheepish grin. “You’re like…the Suze to my Rebecca.”

“Is that supposed to be a good thing?”

Finally, you turn to him, taking in his puppy lost state. Specks of snowflakes cling onto his long lashes, the bridge of his nose is beet red, a hint of dried blood coats his overly frozen lips. Patting his shoulder, you let out a light whistle.

“Let’s just say, I never want to leave Finland.”

The season picks up once again, and so do the travels. But they’re not the same. Maybe it has to do with the fact that it’s not only you two anymore. Sure, you have your friends, but…it’s not the same. The thought alone is confusing, but you don’t let yourself think about it too long. Running after Oscar, you hand him a black binder. “What's this?”

“Not sure. Zak just wants you to read over it before the meeting.”

Frantically, he skims the white pages, flipping eagerly. You giggle. “I know it looks bad, but it’s not!” The Australian barely has a chance to protest before you skip away, shooting a quick thumbs up. “Take notes!”

Reaching the familiar dressing room, you find yourself gently knocking, foot tapping against the tiles. He swings open with a loopy grin. “Hey.”

“Hey.” A beat. “Meeting in ten minutes. Don’t be late.”

He nods. “Is there anything I should go over?”

You shake your head, extending a singular piece of paper towards the British driver. “As long as you go over these notes, then you’ll do just fine.” You take a step back. “Ten, Lando, ten.”

“Got it.”

You’re the last one entering the crowded conference room, teasing snickers spilling from McLaren colleagues. Zak claps loudly. “Great! Let’s get started.”

You’re bored halfway through, zoned out, doodling onto your notebook. You were aware of everything, so you suppose it didn’t really matter. Gray led slides coolly. A sharp sound rips you away from your daydreaming as you look up, eyes flickering between the three main men.

“I wasn’t aware there was any special treatment.” His accent is laced with humor, brown eyes drifting over to you. You curl a brow at Oscar.

Zak chuckles. “I wasn’t either.”

Once the meeting is adjourned, Lando strolls over to where you sprawl onto a row of chairs, blanked out. He swallows a chuckle down. “You alright?”

“What have I done?” You sit up, maniatic eyes dancing . “I’ve never done that before—not intentionally.”

The Brit closes an eye teasingly before releasing. “The notes?”

Leaping up, you march over to him. “Yes, the notes! Since when do I sum up things for your benefit? God, I didn’t even think about Oscar…”

“I’m sure you weren’t thinking straight. We all know you like to help both of us out.”

A queasy feeling flips inside of you as you tilt your head. He was right. You got caught up, made one set of bullet points, and coincidentally gave it to Lando. No further meaning.

“I need coffee.”

As soon as you bolted out of McLaren Hospitality, Lando made his way through the paddock. “Norris,” a deep voice calls out. Alex grins widely, jogging closer.

“Done for the day?”

Alex nods. “What about you?”

“I think so. Had my last meeting. Reckon I should be good.”

The Williams drivers shimmies with a low chuckle. “Why are you still here then?”

The Brit freezes. “I actually don’t know…”

Huh, Alex hums.

“You’re looking for someone?”

He unfreezes, chest tightening. “I don’t know.”

“Hey, hey, watch out.”

“Daniel!” you shriek. He lets out a toothy smile, extending his arm out as a silent greeting, cup of coffee in hand. You rip it away, taking a large chug. “Thank you—gotta to go.”

“Wait.” He reaches for the hem of your shirt, stopping you from slipping away. “Are you okay? You look a bit…” He motions a crazy sign. You glare back at him.

“I need air, I need air,” you gasp, zigzagging past him. Running after you, he hauls you into the nearest restroom. You screech, panicking. “Air, Daniel, air.”

“What happened?”

Something in his voice tells you he knows. You don’t want him to know. How could anyone know what you don’t even know? No one can know.

“You’re right—I’m losing my mind.” You step out of his embrace. “Let me out before I kill you.”

Brown eyes stare back in amusement. “You can be honest with me.”

“I’ll scream, Daniel.”

“Be honest with yourself.”

“I’m a black belt. My limits are endless.”

“Just say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say it.”

You close your eyes, groan, and kick the wall. “Shit, I like Lando.”

Heavy pants, desperate huffs. Anticipating eyes, nervous fiddling with your hair. His lack of response makes it all worse.

Daniel clicks his tongue. “I knew it.”

“Want anything?” he asks, gazing up at the wall of foreign treats. Singapore knew what they were doing. Your voice catches, releases, then wave him off. Weird, he thinks to himself, but continues to pay for his own sweets. The way you prance around the small convenient store makes him smile, occasionally making sure you were still there.

“I won’t be going to the next race. Thought you should know.”

It obviously catches him off guard as he spins to face you with a neutral expression. He’s good at hiding things—feelings.

“I…um…” He coughs. “Can I ask why?”

“It’s my Nana’s birthday.” A beat. “She only has so many left, dude.”

The Brit would love to relax and laugh at your dark humor, but one simple word makes him deflate, nodding along with a sheepish look. He hands you a bag of penguin gummies. “From me, to her.”

The colorful bag crunches against your touch, awkwardly beaming at it, then looking up into his soft stare. “She has diabetes, but thanks.”

He realizes just how much he misses you once you jump onto the plane back home. He had been kind enough to offer to drive you to the airport, and you had been rude enough to decline. A weak exchange of words ensued between you two before reluctantly coming to an agreement.

Here is fine!

Blue eyes wander the busy drop off zone; humming with concern.

Let me help you with your bags, then.

No! Drive safe, Lando. Oh—and make sure to take your vitamins!

The British driver wonders why he feels different; pacing the room back and forth. Vitamin C is important. He eyes his watch. That’s probably why—he forgot to take them. Or maybe it was his biotin.

“Mate! You have my charger!” The twenty-four year old gazes at his taking door and makes his way over. Daniel stands with loopy eyes, half shaved mustache. “Bon Iver died mid-For Emma, so you better hurry and give it to me.”

“I have it right here, chill.” The Australian invited himself in, brown orbs flickering carefully through the dark room. He chuckles.

“Can’t find your birth control?”

Lando cocks his head to the side, recognizing his mess that lies on the floor. The orange bottles make him stutter, briskly pushing the white charger towards his friend. “B6, I’m looking for my—” A nervous hand runs through his messy hair. “Got what you need? Great. Off you go.”

“Ah, ah—hold on a second; is that my girl, Isla Fisher?”

The Brit cackles, remembering about his open computer. “How do you know?”

Daniel plops down. “Confessions of a Shopaholic? Classic. Heidi loves it.”

The brunette hums, finding a spot next to the Aussie. “Who’s Suze?”

“Have you not been paying attention?”

“I’ve been looking for my calcium!”

The thirty-four year old pouts. “I thought it was your R2-D2?”

“Clever.”

A Tim Burton looking girl comes on-screen, perfect bangs hanging just above her brows. The redhead and black haired duo exchange a small phone back and forth, panic evident. “That’s Suze. She’s Becky’s best friend. They go through a bit of a rough patch, but they come back together, don’t worry.”

“Suze? Rebe…” He pales. “Friends?”

“You thought they were lesbos?”

Lando shakes his head, harshly. “What about Finland?”

“A fantasy land, sort of.” Daniel props up against his elbows. “It’s her getaway from all her debt. It’s real, but it’s not real.” The blue eyed boy’ shoulders droop furthermore as he watches the scene play out.

“Friends…”

Chomping down on a mysterious pill, Daniel shrugs. “Mhm. Just friends.”

It’s safe to say that you’re refreshed. You thought things through—you could never speak about your sudden realization. This probably happens all the time, all around the world, nothing to see here. Your feelings were there, but they wouldn’t be your downfall. Not when he mattered this much to you.

“Read over this. Pay close attention to three and seven—Zak is going to ask you about it.” Lando hums slowly, eyes tracing your beauty. You’re a shade tanner due to your small vacation, if you can call it that, and that somehow tugs at his heart. If he pays close enough attention, then he could point out a few new freckles. “Any questions?”

He blinks. “Zero. Thank you.”

“Just doing my job.”

Something has shifted inside of him, something…new? Every chance he gets, he would peek and admire the way you laugh with a couple of the engineers, with Zak. Then, he would have to pinch and remind himself that he was your friend; nothing more, nothing less.

“Any additional notes? Oscar? Lando?”

Raising your hand timidly, you beam. “If I could suggest one thing, maybe we can keep the floor the same? I know we spoke on how a drastic change can possibly lengthen our kph, but if we actually think about it, then we would be able to see that it’ll only worsen things. It’s perfect, really, where it’s at. What we should be focusing on instead are other areas. Find ways to lighten the car, mark our attention to the aerodynamics.” Red creeps carefully onto your cheeks, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you shrug. “Just a…thought.”

Zak hums, crossing his arms in deep thought. “We could do that…we could definitely do that.” He grins. “Boys?”

“Anything to make us faster, count me in,” Oscar agrees, voice steady.

“We should change it.”

Everyone turns to face the twenty-four year old. Pens glide faster, keys click harder, and you stumble clumsily. “Sorry?”

Lando tsks. “I like what you were saying, but we need to change it in order to stand a chance against the Red Bulls. They’ve cracked the code, and we’re so close. We need to adapt.”

You burn up. “I’m sorry, but I disagree, Lando. Things should stay the same. Same is safe. Change is…” You lick your lips, biting down momentarily. “Not necessary. Not when things are already good where they’re at.”

The British driver hisses. Oscar jumps at the cold sound. “Safe is a pussy move. How will you ever know what could have happened? One thing can flip everything around.” His eyes soften. “A-and put us in front of the grid for good. Good, good.”

Caught in the flame, you grit your teeth together. Who were you to have a say after all? Your attention circles the quiet room before nodding stiffly. “Alrighty then.”

“You embarrassed me in front of everyone!”

Lando frantically chases after you, shoes squeaking with every drastic turn. “I was just being honest!”

The sudden speed you turn back to face him with makes him flinch, forced to come to a halt. He can practically see the fumes exiting your body. “But did you have to say it in that tone?”

“What tone? I didn’t have a tone.”

“Yes! Yes, you did!” You continue your march. “Oh, hi! I’m Lando Norris, professional Formula One driver, who knows everything you don’t.”

“I do not sound like that.”

“You’re right. You sound worse.” A huff. “Listen, I’m not actually mad, but I do need time to myself, so can you please…” You motion him away and he scoffs. Are you being serious right now? “I am! Leave!”

He sort of replicates a zombie, the way he drags his feet back to hospitality. Was he really ready for any of this? He liked you, a lot, but things like this would eventually stir up in any relationship, and maybe he didn’t have the strength in him to fix things yet. But if you stayed friends, then…yeah. Things would stubbornly fix themselves.

You, on the other hand, have a sudden bounce in your step. A stride. This is what you needed. Suddenly, your stupid little crush wasn’t as important as you had imagined. Fights would bubble between you two if you ever dared cross the invisible line, and you weren’t the biggest fan in facing them. Friends. That’s all this was.

Daniel crosses Lando first, intrigued by his dead-like state. “What’s up with you now?”

The Brit blinks. “I’m no Luke, Danny.” He kicks a rock. “I’m fine, however, being a Suze.”

Son of a bitch, the Australian thinks as he watches his friend stroll away. He actually paid attention.

Placing his headphones back onto his head, he continues his walk down the paddock, confused. When you make your way with a bright smile, he, too, reciprocates. Your lips move fast, hand gestures flying theatrically, and he can’t hear a single thing. The Alpha Tauri driver snakes his hand to slip them off once again. “Having a g’day?”

“Best,” you beam. “Connection lost.”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

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sammyluvr · 2 months ago

Text

something about being close — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, angst, fluff, sam and reader are lovingly mean to each other, bad insults (weird, stupid, lame), bad jokes, swearing, canon typical violence and ghosts, arguing, so much kissing, could be ooc but idc, edited but most likely still contains a few mistakes, single usage of y/n, 9.5K words. requested !

summary : sam's being overprotective of you, and it leads to an argument and something more.

“explains the janitor kabob,” dean quips, already headed to shrug on his jacket.

“right when the killings started,” dean finishes. “alright, let’s go. you got where she’s buried, sam?”

“yep,” he stands, shutting his laptop. “saint mercy cemetery, not too far.”

“hm,” you laugh out, “second saint mercy cemetery this month. people need to get more creative,” you note as you exit the motel room and head down the short hallway to get to the impala.

“and what would you name a cemetery?” dean asks, ready to catch you off guard or tease you for anything he can get his hands on.

“i should have thought of a clever answer before saying that,” you admit, “but i do wish it were socially acceptable to call them dead people neighborhoods.”

“that’s lame,” sam grins, throwing his arm around your shoulders for just about two seconds before he has to let go to get through the small doorway and outside.

“you’re weird,” sam teases in a matter-of-fact tone, not even looking back from the passenger’s seat to see the sneer on your face.