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#don't want them to think Im faking shit
vitiateoriginator · 1 year
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My datemate was sick recently (only had it for 2 days). I knew I'd catch his cold regardless, so I kissed him, despite it increasing the odds of illness. I am a sick, empty headed frog, who is too full if love
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everhoods · 14 hours
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i say I hope jakey dies but the girl I like* is into weird ass guys... He's not even jakey he's a craig
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dispotatorulzz · 11 days
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In my heart I have a cool tail and ears and cool awesome claws . Alas my physical body fails me
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olliecoded · 2 years
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thank u to the person who called me a "transtrender" and said i'm faking it and not queer enough and learned about queerness through tiktok etc etc. all because i made the absolutely fucking buck wild claim that we should let bi lesbians live their lives in peace. wow
#keira don't look#<- it wasn't keira they just know the person im talking about and this was AGES ago i dont want them to know im still upset about it hehe#anyway for context i was talking about how attempts to place queer people into rigid boxes & draw unbreakable lines in the sand r always#going to fail bcs queerness is complex and messy! and human beings sometimes have identities that don't fit neatly under one label!#and the people who say shit like ''aphobes terfs and anti-neopronouns dni'' r the same people who now bully mspec lesbians#like. ur exclusionism isn't better just because it's ''woke'' this time. it's still bigoted tee hee#ANYWAY IN SUMMARY. i was just saying that i don't think it's our business to police how others identify and why they do so#and this person starts saying that im only queer bcs of tiktok and saying that i cant have an opinion on queer issues#and that im faking being trans#which is. incredibly hurtful especially bcs im bigender genderqueer genderweird etc so exactly the kind of trans person that exclus hate#and it's like. is this what people do? they just start trying to kick queer ppl out of our own community when they dont like what we're#saying??#sorry i think about this periodically and it makes me really upset it's like. keep trying to define the entire fucked up weird spectrum of#human attraction and gender and then make everyone use ur definitions. dont worry bro itll work this time.#queerposting#<- i talk in depth about queer issues sometimes so ill start using that tag for ppl who dont wanna see the discourse
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savage-rhi · 8 months
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I'm very much a, "fuck yeah and fuck you, I don't need validation! I'm me, cunts!" kinda fella, but sometimes I could use support.
#today i fucked up by reactivating my fb account which i haven't done in 2 yrs just to check on some folks id been sending good thought to#place is depressing everyone is miserable and everything feels fake and my mind is like#LOL this is why we left bitch byeeee#so i deactivated again went to work and idc what anyone says there are folks like me that can and do feel the energy and emotions coming of#people and it can fucking suck especially when so many are disregulated so i got a sensory overload and boss was nice enough to let me take#a bunch of breaks today and even scream in her office cause She Gets It (TM)#the weather is rainy and cold i'm getting so many fibro flares idk how i'm moving anymore#ive missed so many days of work already and it's not even fully winter yet i still have my job and im thankful i have an understanding team#but that doesnt pay the bills im still trying to find a way to pay for that doctor appointment coming up#graduate courses began for college and i think i'm gonna be okay but damn did they throw too much info all at once at me and that made#my adhd brain go WELL SHIT#ive been feeling incredibly lonely and not wanted in so many spaces that im struggling to even communicate with the few that i know do#love me for me and nothing else im trying so so so hard to keep being there for people and to keep loving#people that need it cause i don't ever want another human being to ever feel as miserable and unwanted as i have felt#but im also tired because i feel like thats all anyone ever sees me as just this being that can take their woes away and make them feel#amazing and i love that i can do that and listen to so many traumatic stories and help folks process that trauma my boss and many throughou#life have told me i have a gift for healing people and a vibe to me thats different than most and it feels good being around me but today i#just felt like people keep taking and taking and taking and i dont expect anything back thats not who i am id rather give than receive#but damn it i just wish someone could just give me the biggest hug in the world dont even have to say a thing just hold me and be present#and hold space for me to just feel weightless id cherish that more than anything in the world right now#on a positive note...#my dinosaur vo stuff got traction im getting a new cosplay put together i havent done that in 4 years i got to pet a wild deer i made#a coworker laugh so hard his juice went out his nose and my boss peed a little#im slowly taming another wild flock of turkeys and i got a bag of my favorite takis the guacamole flavor#i got a lot to be thankful for and i acknowledge it#but damn it im tired#thank you for coming to my Ted Talk rant and rave#if you made it this far: you're an incredible human being and i love you#please go treat yo self to something nice and know i love you for you
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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months
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baby shoes
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words: 2.3k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, best friend!rafe, childhood friends to lovers, pretty fluffy :), p in v sex, unprotected smut, breeding!, pregnancy kink?, no actual sex while pregnant but lots of like. bump descriptions?
rafe rolls his eyes as you let out a squeal, already knowing what is happening.
“oh. my. god.” you pick up the baby shoes off the shelf, a pair of sparkly flats with the cutest flower straps you've ever seen. “rafe, they're so tiny!”
you hold them up for him to look at as if he's never seen baby shoes before, despite you pointing them out to him every time you're out shopping together.
“yeah, real cute.” he says, keeping his voice completely monotone.
“rafe, don't be so sour.” you pout at him. your friendship is an unexpected one. started in kindergarten and has only grown closer since, your sweet nature in contrast to rafes hard exterior.
“y/n.” rafe sighs, taking the baby shoes from your hands as he sets them back on the shelf. “we look at baby shoes and onesies every time we go to target. i brought you here to buy you a pair of boots, let's go.”
rafe tries to usher you down the aisle. despite you also being a kook he refuses to let you (or, really, your parents credit card) pay for anything.
you nod and continue to the women's section when you cross by a pair of ugg boots made for toddlers and stop in your tracks. “raaaafe!” you coo.
--
look how cute this baby is rafey
“are you serious?” rafe questions reading your text message. “im laying right next to you.”
“too much work to roll over and show you.” you shrug, both scrolling on your phones, having just gotten back from a long day. so long rafe insisted you slept at his because it was closer. only one block closer, but you didn't argue. rafes bed is also yours, and yours his. you've always shared, no need to change now just because you're older.
“that baby isn't even that cute.” rafe huffs out.
you turn over now, rolling onto your stomach to glare at him. “rafe cameron, you are such a dick!”
“oh, so you'll roll over to yell at me?” rafe questions, a smile on his face. usually he wouldn't take shit from anyone, but you're not just anyone to him.
“yes because you deserve it asshole. that baby is adorable.”
“yours would be way cuter.” rafe grins, knowing how flustered you get talking about having a child of your own.
“okay, true.” 
--
“what the fuck is going on?” rafe questions, his mouth literally dropping as he walks in.
“oh my god!” you squeal. “you told me you were coming over at 2, you idiot!” 
rafe looks at the time on your alarm clock. 1:55. rafe may have not knocked before letting himself in, but he figured it was fine. 
“what are you wearing?”
“it's… it's a fake pregnancy belly. my friend carly who works with the school plays said they were getting rid of it bc it was getting old… and i asked to have it.” you shrug, your embarrassment melting away the longer you talk about it.
“why would you want that?” rafe questions.
“i just wanted to see what id look like.” you shrug, turning again to look at yourself in the mirror, running your hands over the tshirt stretching around the plastic material. “i think i look cute.”
rafes eyes are on the round swell of your belly. he thinks you look more than cute, he thinks you look so ravishing he wants to make that belly real right this second.
“gonna take a shower.” rafe makes a turn towards your bathroom before you can argue, saving himself by locking the door behind him.
-- 
“why are you in a mood?” rafe just entered your house but he can already tell from the look on your face that something has upset you.
“freaking kelsey is pregnant.” you spit her name out like it's an insult. she's been your sworn moral enemy ever since she “dated” rafe in the fourth grade and told him he had to choose between staying friends with you or dating her. he chose staying friends of course, but you've despised her anyways since.
“okay…” rafe waits for more reasoning to you being so upset.
“that should be me.” you whine, not ashamed as you throw a little tantrum, stomping your feet on the ground.
“it can be.” rafe shrugs.
“huh?” you question, plopping back on the couch behind you, waiting for rafe to join you for movie night.
“you're not a kid anymore, y/n. you're 21. have a baby if you want.” rafe simply states.
“i- who would i even have a baby with? im single.” you've been single a majority of your life. there were flings in high school, but no one that lasted.
what you don't know if rafe contributed heavily to those relationships ending. he had staked his claim on you, and no guy was worthy in his eyes.
“id help you raise a baby.” rafe says without really thinking, sitting down on the couch next to you, not flinching as you turn to place your feet on his lap, always wanting to stretch out and get comfortable.
“you would?”
“im with you all the time anyways.” rafe nods. “if you had a baby id basically be their dad anyways.”
“id want that.” you admit. “you're the only guy out there i trust enough to get me pregnant.” you're not really thinking about your words themselves as you press your fingers to your stomach, imagining it filled up with a baby, with rafes baby.
“alright, we gotta talk about something else.” rafe shifts on the couch, pushing your feet off his lap to turn himself slightly away from you.
“wait why?” you question, sitting forward.
“just… change the subject.” rafe takes a deep breath, trying to calm down the boner that is growing in his pants.
“no, tell me!” you move closer, which only makes rafe turn away more. “tell me, rafey!”
he's never kept anything from you, and shockingly you can't figure out why he's behaving like this now.
“jesus, stop!” rafe scooches away when you grab onto his arm, trying to get him to face you, to look at you.
“tell me!” you complain again.
“because im fucking hard okay!” rafe shouts, standing up from the couch. “it's getting me fucking hard thinking about getting you pregnant so change the fucking subject!”
you sit on the couch in shock, eyes wide open. you know you shouldn't, he's your best friend after all, but you find your eyes moving lower, and sure enough, the front of rafes pants and tented, cock pushing away from his body.
“i-i-” you stammer.
“you nothing. okay? we forget this happened. just stop talking about getting fucking pregnant and stop talking about me being the one to do it.”
“but i want it to be you.” you blink up at rafe, head suddenly clearing. you do want it or be rafe. he's the only one who should be waking up in the middle of the night with you when your baby cries. he's the one you want to experience every milestone with. he's the one you want filling you up over and over until your tummy starts to swell.
“we can't go back.” rafe says, his tone suddenly serious. “we can't go back to just friends.”
“i know.” it's all you need to say for rafe to surge forward, dropping his knees to the floor as he kisses you, mouth easily dominating yours. you let out a soft moan as his hands cup your jaw, keeping you close even though you press yourself into him, hands fisted in his shirt.
“let me have you.” rafe pants against your mouth. “i need you. let me fill you up.”
“yes.” you nod. “yes, please. take your clothes off.”
you don't care that you're in the middle of your living room, you immediately tug your shirt off over your head, bearing your breasts to him. rafe knew you never wore a bra when in your own home, but seeing your bare tits is still a shock.
he doesn't even take his shirt off despite you tugging at it, cupping your chest as he leans in, mouth wrapping around your nipple.
“oh my god!” you squeal, fisting your hands in rafes hair, holding him close to your body as his tongue flicks over your nipple, hardening it quickly.
“i… im sorry baby i need to get inside of you.” rafe feels crude, tugging at your shorts to pull them down your legs, tossing them away.
“i need you too.” there will be plenty of time now that you've admitted feelings for each other to take your time, to go slow and learn each other's bodies.
rafe stands up, looking down at you in just your underwear, eyes glassy with lust as he pulls his shirt off, followed by him tugging his pants down, finally getting your eyes off his face as your eyes move down. you reach forward, hand rubbing over rafes length, annoyed that the fabric of his underwear is not allowing you to see him properly.
“fuck, stop.” rafe takes a step back. “im supposed to cum in you. get you pregnant. you're gonna make me bust.”
you smile, flattered that your simple touch can cause him to almost lose it.
“where do you want me.” you whisper. you aren't a virgin but you certainly aren't as experienced as rafe. while you know he partakes in hookups at parties you don't attend, you were never interested in sleeping around just for the sake of sleeping around.
“just lay back, baby.” rafe let's out a huff as you turn from sitting on the couch to laying down, your breasts falling beautifully as you wait for him to make the next move. “let's get these off.” rafe pulls your underwear down, but you keep your legs together to hide yourself for a little longer.
rafe shucks his underwear off next, praying his throbbing erection doesn't cause him to cum the second he gets inside of you.
you let out a low moan just from the both of you being naked. “gonna kneel down. wrap your leg around me.” rafe helps position you, spreading your legs as his eyes take in your wet cunt, pretty and perfect as he wraps your knee around his hips as he sinks himself down, moving to drape his body over yours.
“ill go slow.” rafe says, hoping he can stay true to his word as he reaches down, running his cock briefly through your folds, obsessed with the way your expression changed into one of pure pleasure.
“okay, just at first.” you nod. you need slow to open you up, to stretch your walls to allow rafes size, but you dont want it to stay slow, needing to feel him pound into you, make a mess of your cunt.
rafe sinks in with a gasp as your tightness and warmth envelops him. “fuck.” he mutters out, eyes squeezing closed as he inserts himself until he’s fully buried inside you pussy.
“feels real good rafey.” you pout. “cant believe we didn’t do this sooner. could already have a baby by now.” “oh, im gonna give you plenty.” rafe bends down to kiss you, letting himself get lost in the kiss, focusing on your mouth against his to distract from his throbbing cock.
“move.” you gasp, starting to grind your hips. “move.”
its all rafe needs to start smashing his hips back and forth, rocking into you in a steady but fast motion, aiming every time to get his cock as deep inside of you as possible.
“yes, yes!” you squeal, hands gripping his shoulders. as good as rafe thrusting into you feels, you want his cum more than anything. you begin to squeeze your pussy around him every time he pulls out before thrusting back in, and you can tell from the way rafes mouth hangs open that he likes it.
“fuck, im already close, sorry.” rafe has never had a problem cumming too early with anyone else, but hes never been with you, his best friend who he’s been head over heels for since kindergarten, who is begging to have him put a baby in your womb.
“cum in me. please.” you don’t even care about your own orgasm. you don’t even want it, already feeling so overwhelmed from the way rafes cock swells inside of you.
your eyebrows raise when you realize what the warmth spreading inside of you is, never having let a man take you without a condom. you let out a moan to match rafes as he cums, flooding your insides as he grinds into you. 
you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down onto you, not caring about the weight as you squeeze your cunt, milking any last drops out of him.
--
“oh my god, i’m gonna cry its so cute.” tears brim in your eyes as you look at your finished nursery, rafe having done the last of the decorations when you were napping, putting the final touches on.
“you're so cute.” he hums, wrapping his arms around you as he stands behind you, also looking over the room. 
“thank you. its perfect.” you sniffle.
“you’re perfect.” rafe has been overwhelming you with compliments lately, wanting to make sure that you know he is still very much attracted to you with your pregnant belly. “and beautiful. and hot. and sexy.” “oh, stop it.” you roll your eyes with a giggle, turning to face rafe.
“it would be inappropriate to have sex in our babies nursery, wouldn’t it?” despite the baby not even being here yet, rafe looks around the former guest bedroom and realizes that it simply wouldn’t be right.
“you’re not getting me on the floor anyways.” you press your hands to your stomach. seven months along with rafes baby.
“probably for the best.” rafe places his hand on your back, leading you out of the nursery and towards your bed. “wanna eat you out on our bed anyways, mamas.”
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xhoneygirlxx · 8 months
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We’re Not Friends
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Best Friend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
summary: Eddie is just trying to help when he offers to be your date to your sister's wedding, but with all the love in the air will you and Eddie be able to stay friends?
warnings: lots of angst. reader's family sucks. reader's mom makes a comment about her weight. anxiety attacks. reader has low self esteem. fluff. best friends to lovers. fake dating. modern au. (this is titled after an Ed Sheeran song and I also use another one of his songs in the fic, sue me). slight smut. allusions to sex. alcohol consumption. swearing. minors dni!!!!!!!!!! reader and Eddie are both in their 20's. no y/n used, reader is referred to as Birdie. skin color/ethnicity/body type is not mentioned. spelling errors/shitting writing, just pretend you don't notice lmao. also the venue is completely made up and so is the location if you couldn’t tell, im not that creative.
*if I miss anything plz lmk*
a/n: hi my loves!!!! this is one of the last fics on my birthday fic list!!! I want to thank all of you for being patient and being so so supportive of my work. I love you all so much!!! also I do go back to work on Monday so I'm going to try to get as many fics pumped out by the end of the weekend.
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And that's why friends should sleep in other beds
And friends shouldn't kiss me like you do
And I know that there's a limit to everything
But my friends won't love me like you do
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The turning color of the leaves create the prettiest backdrop, tall trees blooming with orange, red, and a pinch of brown. The ones that have already fallen to the ground get swept up under the wheels of Eddie's car, lifting up and swirling around in a pretty dance, and falling right back into place waiting for the next car.
Although the crisp fall morning is peaceful you can't help but feel like you're living a nightmare. As he soft hum of Eddie's playlist flows through the speakers, you're coming up with a plan to turn the whole car around.
So far you thought about faking an illness, one that would stop the whole journey in it's tracks, only to dismiss it because you couldn't put your best friend through that stress. The idea of pulling the steering wheel also came to mind but you quickly threw that out of the window, not wanting to cause injury to the innocent man next to you or anyone else. Your final idea was one you're sure you could pull off as long as you used all the power within your being. If you pushed your feet on the floorboard hard enough, you could poke them out like the Flintstones and stop the car that way.
Between science and logic, you knew that wasn't possible no matter how hard you wished it would. Instead you'll stare out the window, watching all the pretty trees dance in the wind while you push down the rising anxiety that's forming in the pit of your stomach.
"You good over there, Birdie?" The deep voice next to you shakes you from your thoughts.
Turning your head Eddie's already looking at you with a lopsided grin. His demeanor matches the landscape outside, relaxed and serene. As you look at him you wish you could trade places, be as pleasant as he is.
"Yeah I'm just tired." Trying to sell him your answer, you smile lazily at him even though your response holds more tension than a game of tug of war.
Turning his attention back on the road, you watch as the pavement moves on the darkened lenses of his sunglasses. Eddie looks pretty like this, even though you always thinks he looks pretty. Usually he would be a grump having to be up this early, but today he wears his smile like a badge of honor. The dark curls of his hair cascade down his back, while some falls over his shoulders.
He's wearing the same red and black checkered flannel he always does this time of year, the same one you said was your favorite three years ago and it still holds that title. Underneath is a plain black tee shirt, the only one he has that's free of any band name, and a dark blue pair of jeans that have no holes.
He's still the same Eddie, his rings still sit on his fingers and his pick still hangs from the chain around his neck, but it seems that he only gets prettier and prettier as time passes by - like the turning leaves that still hang on the branches of the trees that you drive by.
"I think you're worried about this whole wedding thing," His voice is unwavering, screaming "I'm right" like it always does. "I don't get what's so bad about an open bar and free food."
Although his point is valid, Eddie couldn't be more wrong than that. This wasn't just an event to get drunk for free and stuffed to the gills at no charge. This was your older sister's wedding, the same sister that was the apple of your parents' eyes. Veronica was your arch nemesis since birth, a rival that you had no option but to defeat in order to survive.
You were the outcast of the family, the black sheep if you will, and you had to endure eighteen years of nonstop torture because of it. Your parents, Christine and Tim, were nothing but successful. The doctor and his trophy wife, the star couple in your small community, that had two beautiful and healthy children.
However you were the hardheaded child, the daughter that didn't have a bright future, you didn't carry as much promise as Vee, and your parents made sure to remind you of that every day. So when you moved out three years ago, you made sure to distance yourself as much as you could. But when you received a pristine white envelope with a glamorous invite on the inside, you were roped right back into the hell hole you worked so hard to leave behind.
You could've just ignore it, faked that you were on a trip and couldn't make it but your mother pretty much threatened you into showing up. So that's how you ended up in the countryside right outside of Chicago, driving in Eddie's Toyota Corolla to the Jefferson Manner on a Friday at eight am.
"You're right, Eddie, I should be so thrilled by that. Thank you so much for pointing it out to me." It's snippy with a hint of malice, and your eye roll held enough venom to injure an army of men.
Whistling loudly, Eddie chuckles lightly. "Woah, killer. Relax, I was just tryna help." He's still soft despite your outburst, sweet like your pumpkin spice latte that sits in the cupholder.
Hanging your head, you inhale a deep breath and release it slowly. "I'm sorry, Eds. I just really fucking hate my family."
He switches his attention from you and the road, taking in your saddened features. Reaching his right hand over the console, he places his hand searches for yours and laces his fingers through yours, which you gladly except.
"Don't apologize for that, kay? That's a valid reason for you to not want to go, I was just trying to make you laugh." The sincerity in his voice wraps around you, easing the nerves that go haywire in your body.
His palm is warm like the coffee cups that sit in the cup holders, his voice is as calming as the trees in the wind, and his smile is just as pretty as it was the first day you met him. You're safe with him, the safest you've ever been in your life, and here in the front seat of his car he reminds you of that.
"They just make me crazy, s'why I don't like seeing them." You feel shy being vulnerable, refusing to meet his gaze by focusing on tracing the back of his hand with your free one.
Eddie doesn't mind, instead he reassures you with a quick squeeze of your hand. "If it makes you feel any better, Birdie, I like you a little crazy."
Dimples deep as the sea and smile still as delicate as a flower's pedal, Eddie looks like a painting that hangs in the Louvre. You want to capture this moment of him to have for the rest of your life, so no matter what you can always remember him just like this.
"You say that now." You tease and he eats it right up.
Looking back over to you, he shines his smile onto you, filling you up with the light of a million stars. "And I'll say it till the end of time." There's no tease to it, nothing but truth in the way he says it.
It turns you into jelly, the feelings that swim through your blood stream, and now you've become too sheepish to answer. You decided to trust your touch over your words, squeezing his hand the same way he did to yours, trying your best to communicate the feelings you hold secretly in your heart for your best friend.
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The cobblestone driveway leading to the entrance of Jefferson Manner is, for a lack of a better word, beautiful. It is a straight drive to the property, but once you get closer, a large fountain sits in the middle where the arch of the circle driveway starts.
Different colored cars are already lined up, some you recognize and the rest you have no clue who they belong to. Either way it's pretty evident that Eddie 2018 Toyota sticks out like a sore thumb.
The same dread that you left 45 miles back, is now running through you again. Unintentionally, you squeeze his hand harder as your heart begins to pound in your ear and if it hurts him he doesn't mention it. Instead, Eddie gives you one, two, three squeezes and then lets you continue your attempt to stop the blood flow to his hand.
Pulling behind the Mercedes Benz S Class, he puts his car into park and then shuts the car off. Reading your expression the way he always does, he sits in the silence of the car with you until your features loosen up.
"You okay, Birdie?" Even though he knows you're not okay, you still appreciate him asking anyway.
Breathe in. This is temporary. Breathe out. This is not forever. Breathe in. I am safe. Breathe out. I am here.
You repeat this to yourself a few times, eyes clamped shut as you focus on your breathing pattern. Once your head is above water and your heart stops racing, you open your eyes back up to the real world.
Relaxing your shoulders, you let go of the grip you're holding Eddie's hand in. "I'm okay. I'll be okay." Despite answering him, it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself of what you're saying.
Another brief pause goes by and Eddie continues to monitor you, sunglasses now removed so not only can he see you but you can see him.
Your gaze is unwavering, the thousand yard stare has fallen over you and you have yet to dig out of it. "Are you prepared for what we're about to walk into?"
The tone of your voice scares Eddie, the emotion being sucked right out of the words that you speak despite the feelings that battle in your mind that he doesn't know about.
"Honey, I'm prepared for anything as long as I have you." For a split second he winces, wondering if that was too cringy but when your face breaks out into a sweet smile he feels better.
The two of you get out of the car, retrieving your suitcases and dress bags from the trunk. When the door shuts you begin to count the steps it takes to get to the big wooden doors of the mansion.
You don't have to ask Eddie for his hand, he's already giving it to you and you gladly except it, gripping on for dear life the closer you get. Despite the beautiful landscape and the soothing sound of the running fountain, you feel like this is the soundtrack that plays before your imminent death.
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The tall, thick, wooden doors sit menacingly in front of you, the skeletons of your past standing just right behind it waiting for your arrival. The ghosts that have haunted your dreams, the graveyard of your history, and the phantoms of your family, mingle and laugh right behind this door.
Eddie waits for you, not moving a muscle until you say so, and you silently thank him with a smile. Like a switch, he watches your face change from flight to fight mode. In a flash your looking over your outfit, brushing down the long black sleeved shirt that sits on your torso, and then straightening out the jeans that stick to your legs.
Your hair is the next thing you frantically fix, pushing it behind your ears and out of your face, letting it fall over your shoulders while doing so. Like a buzzing bee, you zone in on Eddie, fixing the collar of his flannel and then smoothing the material of his shirt. With out speaking, you pick off a singular piece of fuzz from his pants and then let it blow away in the wind.
Moving your hands back up to his chest, you center the pick on his chain. Then move his hair, fixing the ringlets that got blown around in the breeze. Once your satisfied, you move back to your spot next to him and sweep his hand right back into your hold. Releasing on more deep breath, you settle your pinched eyebrows and your determined eyes, and let the worst fake smile settle onto your lips.
The smile doesn't reach your eyes the way it usually does, your teeth push against one another so forcibly Eddie wonders if you'll shatter teeth, and you simply look like your in pain. Either way, you push open the big oak door and let yourself inside with him following right behind.
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The lobby of the manner is everything you expected, high ceilings, a crystal chandelier, and every single family member of yours gathered around sipping champagne and speaking to each other like a potential client.
Even though it's magnificent inside with the beautiful décor and lively plants, the sight of everyone in their gaudy outfits and cheap laughter makes it feel like an eternal hell.
Eddie must feel the way your shoulders tense because he's quickly leaning into you, his voice just a whisper in the shell of your ear.
"Hey, it's gonna be okay. You have me and I won't let anything happen." He reminds you, his smile is more sympathetic than anything.
Nodding your head you remain smiling, it's awful and it hurts even doing it but if you want to survive the whirlpool of piranhas, then you just have to fake it until you make it.
"If it isn't our lovely Birdie!" The sound of your mother's voice is like silk, smooth and confident, just like she always was. Walking over to you, she holds a champagne flute in her hand and you wonder how much the bubbling spritz cost your father.
The last time you've seen her was last winter, her million dollar smile outshining the Swarovski crystal tree decorations that sit behind her. Your mother has always been beautiful but her insides are rotten, ugly and maggot infested, all hidden behind the mask that she put on for everyone to see.
You gave up a long time ago trying to figure out her brain, finally accepting defeat to the maze that was her mind. Now when you look at your mother all you see is a shell, a hallow covering that has nothing to offer you other than it's pretty design.
Pulling you into a hug, you're hit with her scent. She smells like Dior and cashmere, the Chanel outfit that sits on her body scratches your skin, and the pearl necklace she wears jabs you right in your collarbone.
"Hello mother, thank you for inviting me to such a wonder occasion." You instantly revert back to your old accent, the same one your mother instilled into you from the time you could even under stand the English language.
A faux laugh comes from her bright red lips, "No need for that, darling, you're always welcome." Her manicured hand waves at you in fake genuineness.
The smile on your face continues to show and you hate to think it matches hers. Even with the sweet tone you use and the gentleness of your actions, the blood that runs through your body continues to boil the longer she stands there.
Eddie on the other hand stands next to you completely and utterly amused by your fake performance. The snort he lets out when you continue to use your "eloquent" voice is quickly covered up by a sniffle.
Like a vulture, your mother's eyes are quick to zero in on the curly haired man next to you. "Excuse my daughter for her bad manner of not introducing us, I'm Christine."
The minute her hand reaches out for a handshake, you're heart stops. This is the one thing that could make or break this whole trip and it was the only thing you didn't prepare your best friend for. Many years of your life, you were trained that a handshake is all it takes for someone to learn about you.
Without skipping a beat, Eddie simply picks embraces her hand like a prince out of a Disney movie and places a kiss to the back of her unwrinkled hand.
"What a pleasure to meet you, Christine, I'm Eddie. And might I say how beautiful you are."
He's all dimples and doe eyes staring at your mother, a true prince charming in his red flannel and jeans. His voice is like a cup of hot chocolate on a cold day, it's smooth going down your throat and it warms your belly better than any blanket can.
That warmth is now tingling your body, a frenzy of butterflies flapping around in the walls of your heart. It clearly works on your mother as well but unlike you she doesn't hide it very well.
"You're really the charmer, Eddie." It's flirtatious and alluring, the same voice she put on for every pool boy your father ever hired.
Annoyance and anger floods through you and you know that your eyes would be shining green to anyone with a trained eye.
While she clutches her pearls and eyes Eddie like he's a four course meal, you intervene into the conversation before it can continue.
"Where's daddy? I'd really like for my boyfriend to meet him." You bat your eyelashes like a pageant queen and your arm acts like a python wrapping around Eddie's, making a mark on what is yours.
"Oh you're father's around here somewhere, you know how he is." She dismisses, taking a drink from her glass and swallowing down the golden liquid quickly. "So how long have you and Birdie here been dating?"
"It's going to be two years next month. Isn't that right, honey?" Eddie turns to you and gives you a playful smile.
Looking back at him you hope he can see the misery that hides being your eyes, a white flag of surrender.
Your mother on the other hand doesn't care about your answer, that's why she didn't ask you. She's reading Eddie, trying to see how much she can push your so called boyfriend until she gets what she wants.
"Well that's just wonderful, young love is a beautiful experience. You have to be careful with Birdie here, she's known to leave the nest quickly." It's a jab, a spiteful and mean comment headed right for your gut.
Eddie doesn't miss the way you're lips falter for a second, the flash of hurt in your eyes. It kills him watching you stand there and take all the comments from your mother like stray bullets.
Turning his attention back to your mother, he gives her a smile, one that you would know as a wicked one but to a stranger would seem kind. "I don't think that will be a problem. Birdie knows where her home is."
It's a direct warning, a clear sign to your mother to not mess with you or what is yours. Just him sticking up for you like that makes your stomach twist in excitement, a feeling you've grown so used to over the course of friendship with Eddie.
"Well, I'm glad she finally found her place then." Your mother responds coldly, clearly hearing the bite in his tone. "Why don't you two go find your room and get settled in, rehearsal dinner is in a few."
Before retreating into the large crowd of family, your mother turns back to you in one more attack.
"Oh and Birdie, wear something that will hide that stomach. Don't want anyone to assume you've been knocked up."
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Once you've found your room, you all but rush Eddie inside slamming the door behind you. In the quiet safety of your suite, you can relax your shoulders that have been sitting high since you've arrive.
"Jesus Bird, you weren't lying." Eddie says as he flops himself on the queen sized bed.
You don't respond, instead you squeeze your eyes shut and try to calm the heaviness of your breathing. Behind the darkness of your eyes, little twinkles of stars flash from how hard you have them closed, the swooshing of your heart continuing in your ears like angry waves of the sea.
Breathe in. This is temporary. Breathe out. This is not forever. Breathe in. I am safe. Breathe out. I am here.
You repeat this to yourself over and over again, trying to erase the cruel words of your mother and the images of disgusted family member's faces out of your mind. You're not sure how long you've been standing by the door until a hand grasps at your wrist lightly.
"Birdie," Eddie's coax goes unanswered, "Come on, Birdie."
Warm calloused hands travel to the plump of your cheeks, lifting your face up just enough that he can see you. Finally opening your eyes, you're relieved to be looking into the golden whiskey pools of his.
Smoothing his thumb over your cheek he doesn't say anything, just lets your breathing calm down. Here you are, in the nice room behind the shelter of the locked door, and he's here.
Breathe in. It's okay. Breathe out. You're safe. Breathe in. You are here. Breathe out. So is he.
It's enough to let your feet move on the plush white carpeting, while Eddie leads you to the bed with the tug of your arm. Sitting on the plush mattress on crisp linen sheets you're grounded, and with the heat of Eddie sitting next to you and his hand in yours, you're anchored.
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The rehearsal dinner goes over well enough, the Irish mule helping with every single speech that's given and every horror story of your childhood that is told. Luckily for you, Vee didn't ask you to be in her bridal party so you didn't have to attend the actual wedding rehearsal, and even better you won't have to deal with her for the real thing tomorrow.
Eddie does great at dinner, he talks to your father who surprisingly likes him, both getting along over their love for vintage cars. Your soon to be brother in law and his groomsmen also get along with Eddie, they laugh and cut up most of the time while clinking beer bottles together. Not to mention every single woman there wanted to get into his pants, swooning at everything he said and giving him the 'fuck me' eyes while doing it.
You hated it, every single minute of it. Like always you were ignored, simply looked over until some story was being told where you were ultimately the joke of. Any time someone asked you what you were doing with your life, you were met with cringing smiles and snickering laughs.
Four separate times your mother commented on your dress, the way it fit, the price value of it, and how it really wasn't a good color on you. All of your sisters friends rolled their eyes and whispered back and forth while staring at you, aunts and uncles acted dumbfounded when you told them that you were a freelance writer for a small music magazine back in Indy, and your cousins made comments about how badly you look since the last time you saw them.
It didn't matter anyway, even if your sister asked how you managed to get a stand up guy like Eddie to agree to be with you, in front of all of the guests. You had to remind yourself that you were there for the free booze and food or whatever the hell Eddie said in the car on the way here.
This wasn't a popularity contest for you, it was simply you being forced to do something against your wishes because your mother said so. You asked yourself why you even listened to her in the first place while letting the brown liquor burn in your stomach.
Why was it so important that you even showed up here? Why did you have to come to the awarding ceremony of favorite kid when you knew you weren't going to win? Why would you even set yourself up for such failure just because your mom said so?
Well, you're answer came when a flushed faced Eddie was laughing with your grandparents at one of the round tables in the corner. His eyes crinkled at the sides and his head was leaned back so you had a clear view of the neck you loved so much.
Then you looked over at your sweet looking grandparents who laughed loudly at whatever was said. Your grandmother had her hands on her cheeks, shaking her head back and forth, and beaming brightly. Your grandfather smiled around his cigar, big round belly jumping with laugher, and his cheeks smooshing up against the frames of his big glasses.
You didn't come here to win a competition. You didn't come here because your mother threatened you within an inch of your life if you didn't. You didn't come here because you thought it would be fun.
You showed up because you wanted to prove to the people who doubted you for so long just how happy you were. You wanted to prove that happiness doesn't come from the amount of money in your account or how many rooms sit in your house. You came here because you wanted to prove that they were wrong, that the grass on the other side of the fence could be green too, and that someone who grew up differently that you could still do amazing things.
Eddie was someone that your father would've had you kicked out over bringing him home in high school. Eddie was the boy your mother would tell you to stay far away from. Eddie was the kind of guy that your sister wouldn't look twice at because of who he was.
But right now, during the beautiful dinner the night before your sister's wedding, your best friend/fake boyfriend has them all wrapped around his guitar calloused finger.
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Not much has been said between you and him, especially when he was the man of the hour. You're not really complaining though, you're happy that he made a good impression with them. When the night began to settle into your bones and the alcohol started to make you tipsy, you slyly walked up to Eddie and tugged on his sleeve to let him know it was time to go.
On the walk back to the room, you sway slightly with every step you take, balancing on the walls with one hand while the other holds your strappy heels. When Eddie stops and turns to the door of your room, you all but smack into him with clumsy steps.
While he fumbles with key, you're in blissful content with your eyes closed. The kick of the lock and the turn of the handle doesn't even pull you out of your daze, instead you hold your arms out like a mummy and feel around until you find Eddie's clothed back.
You can tell Eddie is laughing by the large breath that passes through his nose and the tell tale sign of him kissing his teeth. Large hands wrap around your wrists, guiding you into the doorway that you can't see.
Your cheeks are warm, the smile on your face is permanent, and the buzzing in your heart makes you feel light on your feet.
"Alright mummy, lets get you into bed." Letting go of his hold on you, you feel him slightly brush past you to close the door. His voice sounds like the way stars look, sparkling and bright, twinkling all around.
You giggle, eyes still shut and your nose scrunched up. "M'not a mummy but I could be if ya want."
Putting your arms out, you lean back and forth on your feet to mimicking what you think is a mummy but looks more like a zombie.
"Baaaaahhhhh, I'm a mummy. Be very afraid." You deepen your voice, dragging the syllables of every word to make them come out slower.
Eddie must be entertained because the sound of a loud raspberry comes from where he stands, the clear sign of him losing the grip on the laugh he'd been holding in.
Cracking one of your eyes open, you hope to find him with rose cheeks and dimples flashing, the look you love so much. Instead you see him, beaming at you without the shine of his canines. It's an admiring smile, one where your eyes go all gooey and your smile is simple yet dipped with so much love.
Opening your eyes all the way, you let your arms down slowly to rest by your sides, a meek look painting your face.
"Did I do good?" You ask, even though you didn't really want his opinion.
"I think you're perfect." It comes out even, smooth like the hilltops in December covered in a layer of the purest snow.
The two of you sit there for a while, soaking up the glow of each other and letting it sink into your souls. For a moment you wonder if he feels it too, the spark that you feel whenever he's around. You wonder if he feels like crying simply because he loves you that much. You wonder if he wishes this whole dating thing wasn't just a lie and that it was true, the same way you wish it was.
Once the moment ends for him, he's clearing his throat to clear any lovesick daze that's left. "I guess we better head to bed, huh?"
Scratching at the back of his neck, you try with everything in your power to not look down where his turtle neck rode up, where the patch of mouth watering hair trails from his belly button to underneath the waist of his pants.
A part of you wishes you stuck it out longer, stayed in your seat at the dinner table just to see him in his outfit longer. He asked you to help him pick it out this morning and when you think back to it, you get flustered with thinking how domesticated it felt. Making him try on different shirts and jumping for joy when he walked out of the bathroom wearing a turtleneck he swore he'd never wear. The khakis you pulled out of his suitcase was the cause of so much laughter and the pink tinge that sat on the rounds of his cheeks.
God, he looked so good, especially with his hair pulled back and the dangled earring that sat in his ear, but now it would all be a memory for you to file away in the back of your brain.
Eddie had already started taking off his dress shoes, sitting on the edge of the bed bent over and messing with the knots that kept the laces together.
The smile that once held your lips high and proud, now weigh down in a sad frown. Even after the success of the dinner and proving everyone wrong, you are now brought back to the reality of what you and Eddie were. Just friends.
"Since I'm a gentleman and I can't see to get these shoes untied, I'll let you shower first." His voice comes out strained from how hard he pulls on the knotted strings.
You don't say anything, quietly nodding your head before shuffling over to your suitcase that sits by the closet. Grabbing a sleepshirt and some shorts, you go to move around the lanky man that can't get his shoes off no matter how hard he tries.
Without a sound, you kneel in front of him, placing your clothes somewhere off to the side. Taking his calf in your hand, you place his foot on your thigh. Delicately, you remove the first shoe and then the next.
"Y'didn't have to do that." It's quiet but not enough to be a whisper, still you shrug.
"I didn't but I wanted to." It seems so simple when you say it, even though deep down inside you wanted that last piece of your fantasy before it goes away for the rest of the night.
"Will you help me with my dress?" You ask him, standing on your feet and turning so that the golden zipper is facing him.
In the mirrored closet door you can see him and how he hesitates for a moment, shaky hands lingering in the air before they close in on the gold slider.
The sound of the metal teeth unlatching from one another fills the room, clouding the unrhythmic beat of your heart. You try to remember the feeling of him on the sacred part of your skin, the way his light touch tickles you and makes goosebumps rise. You want to memorize it like your favorite song, so that when you leave this place and the fake nature of this whole thing goes away, you still have something to think about on those bad days.
It ends too soon for your liking, his hands retracting right back to the sides of his body like a measuring tape. With the fuzz of your tipsy has now wore off but the sting of everything still remains.
Giving him a small smile and muttering a thank you, you hide in the bathroom where the sound of running water hides the muffled cries that leave your throat.
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Waking up felt more painful than any hangover you've ever had. The pain of Eddie's bare back facing you was heartbreaking. You force yourself not connect the freckles that litter his skin or trace your fingers along his spine and shoulder blades.
It's a sight you've seen plenty of times and sharing a bed is something you've done more than enough that you're not uncomfortable. Yet your heart squeezes, wrapping itself up in the tightest loop so that it hurts to even breathe.
The sound of his soft snores only makes it worse, imagining what he dreams about and if it's you.
You use all of the willpower that's left in your body, marching over to the small kitchenette that sits in the corner of the giant room. Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you try to focus on the swirl of dark liquid mixing with the coffee creamer and how they mix together so perfectly. Without much of a peep, you slide the glass doors that lead out to the balcony and sit down in one of the plush chairs.
You look out over the mountains of colors, tracing over the lines of trees that go on for miles. Although pretentious, you think Veronica did an excellent job and choosing this location.
Sipping on the hot beverage, you watch the clouds in the blue sky go by, wondering what it would've been like if your sister asked you to be a bridesmaid. You imagine that the two of you would've actually gotten along and maybe even laughed together. You envision what it would've been like to have your mother compliment you in your gown and how it would feel to take a picture with your family where all the smiles were real.
Tears begin to burn the back of your eyes, falling rapidly like a fall rainstorm. The skin of your cheeks burn slightly from the heated trails of water that fall. You're sad and incredibly so. Within the first twenty four hours of being here, you remember how much of an outsider you really are to these people.
Even with the company of Eddie, someone that truly loves you, you still can't help but feel so fucking lonely. To put on the mask you wore for many year back on and pretend that the man standing next to you is yours to claim is harder than any other time you had to do it.
This time you weren't really faking it, the love that you showed to him, the happiness you felt with him was real, just the titles weren't. With the cool fall chill, your coffee has gone cold but your tears keep coming.
"You made yourself a cup of coffee but not one for me, and this is how I find out? That's just mean." Eddie's curly hair pokes out from the small gap in the sliding back door that he's created.
His eyes are squinted from the harshness of the morning sun but his cheeky smile is forever unwavering. Sliding a space big enough for him to go through, he stalks out onto the small space in his plaid pajama pants and a hoodie he must've thrown on.
Trying your best to cover up that you've been crying, you wipe the back of your hand across your cheeks, but Eddie still catches your movements.
Instead of embarrassing you, he sits down in the chair across from you and looks out over the balcony.
"You okay?" It's a simple enough question, one that you can answer with one word and he wouldn't pry for more information to not overwhelm you.
Sniffling, you shake your head yes and then move your gaze to where his is. "No, yeah, m'good. The view really does something for me." You say, chuckling just a bit at your own joke.
Eddie also laughs, only this time it's not as genuine as it usually is, just a hard exhale through his nose.
"Yeah, sure does." He agrees, letting his eyes follow the red and orange of the tree tops.
A calm silence falls over you two, only the sounds of the birds that fly and the ruffle of the leaves can be heard from where you sit. It's peaceful.
"You know, I really thought this weekend would be different." It comes out of your mouth as easy as the breeze that blows. Still your eyes stay trained out in front of you and past the mountains of trees.
Eddie doesn't respond but the hole that he burns through the side of your head with his eyes tell you he's listening.
"When I was little, I used to imagine the day Vee got married. I would fantasize that maybe one day we could be close enough that I could enjoy this day with her and we could be sisters for once." You exhale an uneven breath, moving your sights to the cup that still sits in your hand.
"I just wanted all of us to be a family for once. I wanted my mom to actually act like she liked me, for my dad to say that for once he was proud of who I was, and for Veronica, I just wanted her to say she's happy that I'm her little sister."
Just like that, every single thing you've carried since you were little is now out in the open, whipping around in the wind like the dead leaves. Even with the amount of burden that's been lifted, the pain still remains the same. It all hurts, stabbing you over and over again in the scars that you worked so hard to patch up.
Eddie doesn't say anything and for a moment you don't think he'll say anything at all. You watch him pull out the pack of cigarettes he had nestled in his pocket and place one in between his pretty pink lips.
Another second goes by and he's flicking the wheel of his lighter, shielding the flame away from the wind so he can light it. When the end of the smoke burns red, he takes a big inhale and then lets the cloud of smoke out.
"I know what I say won't matter," He starts before taking another drag of his smoke, "But these people don't fucking mean anything."
"They're you're family and I get that but they don't fucking deserve you, they never have. A fake boyfriend, a new haircut, or a cool job shouldn't define their love for you. They're shitty people who were blessed with an amazing person and they didn't even realize it."
Eddie looks at you the same way he speaks, with nothing but truth. You let the words settle in your mind, letting them soak in, in case you forget.
The tears that once ceased start to flow again, except this time it's from relief. It feels good that someone else sees your worth, to know someone actually holds value to you.
"It kills me that they treat you the way they do, that they can say all those things without batting an eye. I know why you asked me to come here and I know I have a job to do, but man do I want to rip them all a new asshole."
Although he speaks with fire behind the words, you have to laugh from the thought of the actions. The moment you giggle, his own smile forms.
"I hope you know that I love you and when everything is done and over with, we'll give them the bird." To make his point, Eddie raises his middle finger high into the sky.
Repeating his actions, you hold your own finger to the sky and smile happily while doing it.
Letting his arm fall back down into place, he pats the tops of your thighs and stands from the chair.
"That's my girl, now let's get ready for an open bar and free booze." Holding his open palm to you, he helps you up.
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The wedding reception was what you thought it would be, drawn out and boring. The only saving grace of the whole thing was Eddie's commentary, the scruff on his face tickling you every time he leaned close to your ear.
A lot of the things he was saying was probably just to make you feel better but you did have to agree, the dress Veronica picked out was a bad rip off of Princess Diana's and it shouldn't have seen broad daylight.
You did however get choked up when the vowels started, not because you were happy with your sister but because you wish that were you and Eddie up there instead.
All and all it was okay, even though one of your brother in law's aunt's wore a hat so big you couldn't see past it most of the time.
The wedding reception though was beautiful. The décor of the manner looked exquisite against the maroon coloring of all the bridesmaids dresses. The tables had beautiful bouquets sitting in the middle and you can't help but laugh imagining your father cutting a check for all of them.
To much of yours and Eddie's delight, there is an open bar that is stacked high with pricey alcohol. Again you laugh thinking about your father having to pay the tab, which you and Eddie will be happy to run up.
So far this is the most the two of you had fun, both laughing and enjoying the company that's around you. The table you've been stuck at is also occupied by other family rejects that enjoy the titles they've been given.
Eddie's hand hasn't left your thigh, which you're more than happy about, and every so often he flexes his fingers squeezing the meaty flesh.
You feel good, the boost from the drinks and the feeling of your best friend makes you bloom like a flower in the spring. You watch as he talks to the people at your table and how his hand moves with enthusiasm. You trace the muscles in his neck and watch his adam's apple bob up and down when he speaks. Your chin sits in the palm of your hand as you watch him be himself like he always is.
He's so beautiful, he always has been, and in this moment he gets to be yours. You don't have to think about what anyone else thinks, you don't have to question how the two of you look from another's perception, because you know that your heart bleeds for him and it always will.
Eddie's your home, he's your best friend, and he's your person. You think back to what he said to you this morning and how he called you a blessing but you think he's wrong. Eddie is the true blessing. He's sweet, he's smart, and he's so fucking caring it's disgusting. Behind all the jagged features and dark clothes, he's nothing but a giant teddy bear that wears his heart on his sleeve.
"Birdie." He smiles at you, all goo and mush it makes your heart skip.
You hum in response, still sitting in the same position, looking at him as if he were a painting.
"You wanna dance?" He blushes, embarrassed by the request and you feel like you're back in junior high.
"You, Eddie Munson hate dancing." You say, scrunching your nose cutely.
Laughing loudly, he nods, "Yeah, I know, but I'd dance with you."
That breaks you out of your daze, breath catching in your throat. "O-oh, yeah. I'll um dance."
Again he stands, holding a palm out to you so he can help you up. Leaning you to the dance floor, you can't help but feel jittery despite the wine that you've consumed.
Once out on the floor, he pulls you into his chest. Strong hands grip your waist through the silk fabric of your red dress and you desperately try to fight the need that rises in your guy.
You stand stiff, unsure of what to do with yourself and Eddie's quick to help you, placing your hands around his neck where they lay contently.
He looks good tonight, even better than last night, and you hate how it makes butterflies flap around in your stomach. The black button up shirt sits nicely on his torso, wrapping his arms so deliciously you want to take a bite out of them. The black slacks he wears fit nicely and you wonder if he had them tailored and you have to ignore the want to undo the sleek black belt with a bright golden buckle that holds them up. Again his hair sits in a low bun and that silver chain peeks out at you from underneath his collar.
"I can't believe you asked me to dance to Ed Sheeran." You say breathlessly, still nervous with being this close to him.
Eddie snorts, lopsided smile forming on his lips. "What, a guy can't like Ed Sheeran and metal? That's gatekeeping, sweetheart." He teases.
Rolling your eyes, you try to ignore that tingle that settles in your cheeks. "Whatever you say, Munson."
"I'm serious, Thinking Out Loud was in my top ten last year." The two of you hold eye contact until you can't take it anymore, both bursting into laughter at his admission.
"That's something you shouldn’t repeat." You sputter at him and he laughs even harder.
"Hey, I like this song, okay?" He defends, still swaying back and forth with you.
Raising your hands in defense, you pull back on your clowning for the sake of your friend. Placing your arms back around his neck, you lean your head on his chest and try to hear the beat of his heart.
The scent of him floods your nose, cologne and smoke, whiskey and linen, and you wish you could bottle it to keep forever.
"Why do you like this song anyway? It's kind of basic." You mutter at him.
His shoulders lift in a shrug, and he takes a moment to respond. "Honestly, I like it cause it reminds me of you."
Your eyebrows furrow in confusion and you remove your head to look up at him.
"Wha'do you mean?" You mumble, eyes searching his for some sort of answer.
Looking bashful again, red tints his cheeks and ears in a blush. Sticking his tongue out to wet his lips, he hesitantly answers.
"I always felt like he said everything I couldn't, ya know? Everything I ever wanted to say to you, he put in a song."
It feels like the whole world stops, that time freezes and it's just the two of you. You're in shock and for some reason you can't wrap your head around anything he's saying.
"What?" You say harshly and again he shrugs, shying away from your burning focus on him.
"Reminds me of you and everything I ever felt about you. I always wanted to call you mine but if you hadn't noticed, I'm a chicken shit."
You don't say anything, instead you stare at him with your mouth wide open. Eddie starts to loose his cool, frantically flexing his fingers against the material of your dress, looking around at anything but you.
"Sorry, I - shit, I really fucked this up," He doesn't get to finish his sputtering apology because you quickly smash your lips into his.
His lips taste like brown liquor and chapstick, like love and forever, and you can't believe you waited this long to experience it. Two heart sync as one, two people fall together like the leaves outside, and anxieties are finally laid to rest.
You hate that you pull away first but the need for air is too much. Eddie bends enough so that his forehead leans on yours, both looking into each other eyes living in the moment of your blissed out hearts.
"Tell me if I'm being too forward but do you wanna get out of here?" He flirts and you respond simply by pecking his lips once more.
"Thought you'd never ask."
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thank you all for reading!!! love you guys <3
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1K notes · View notes
nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 2 months
Note
ok im an absolute sucker for the “only one bed” trope, so….
could i please request a reader x ethan fic where there has already been a lot of mutual pining (maybe they were childhood best friends that have had feelings for the longest time ✋😩) and the final straw to all that sexual tension is possibly there being an argument or some angst and then having to share that room, being in such close proximity. Ends in smut please (been loving the switch!ethan btw)!
please and thank you 😩🙏
Jesus, this is a long one and I'm SO SORRY if that isn't what you wanted. I've literally tried to rewrite this 3 times but I had to build up the little angsty moments and all that stuff.
The Best Thing - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader
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This contains SMUT - Minors DNI
Summary: You and your friends go to a cabin for a week-long summer vacation. When plans change and you overhear that Ethan's upset about sharing a bed with you, it causes some issues in your friendship.
Contains: fluff, mutual-pining, angst, oral - both m and f receiving, p in v, unprotected-ish sex(reader's on birth control and pull out game is strong), kinda-rough sex, dom-ish Ethan. idk where the fuck I was going with this🥴
A/N: I'd like to apologize to those of you that like to read my stuff but don't like them to be super long. This is 7.6k words, so my bad🙃
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For summer break, you and your friends decided to take a trip to the mountains, wanting fresh air and a calm environment in comparison to the current busy city you were in. After weeks of looking into cabins, you went with a cute 3-bedroom with a hot tub on the balcony that had a perfect view of the mountain line.
You were surprised that Sam was okay with Tara going without her, but the anxiety was apparent on the older sister’s face as she walked out of her bedroom in her pajamas carrying a taser in one hand and pepper spray in the other.
“I don’t like that you’re going without me, but I’ll feel a little better if you take these,” Sam said, dropping them into Tara’s purse.
“We’re just six teenagers going to the mountains to relax. What’s the worst thing that could happen?” Tara asked, as Mindy and Anika walked in.
“Have you ever watched a horror movie?” Mindy questioned, making Sam roll her eyes at the comment before looking back to Tara.
“You aren’t helping, Mindy,” Tara said, before directing her attention to Sam. “We’ll be safe, I promise.”
“You won’t have cell service up there…Fuck, please just find a way to call me every now and then so I know you’re okay,” Sam said, the stress obvious in her voice. “Please remind her,” she said to you, as she started to head back to her room.
“I will,” you promised, as Sam looked back to you and nodded.
After Sam closed her bedroom door, Tara started to whisper-yell at Mindy.
“What the fuck was that?”
“Sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” Mindy sighed, “The guys are outside by the way.” You soon heard the front door open, and listened to Ethan’s groggy voice as he complained about having to get up at six in the morning. “Well, they were outside.”
“Are you guys coming? We need to stop for coffee, or energy drinks. I don’t care, I just need caffeine,” Chad said, before glancing at you and Tara’s bags on the ground. “You know we’re only going for a week, right?”
“Hey, it’s not that much stuff,” she smiled, walking over to kiss him. “We were hoping you two wouldn’t mind helping us carry our bags down.”
“Anything for you, babe,” Chad said, as Mindy made a fake-gag noise.
“Don’t act like you and Anika aren’t going to be acting all sweet and shit with each other,” you laughed, looking towards Ethan, “We are the fifth and sixth wheels on this trip.”
“As long as have you so I won’t be bored, that’s all that matters,” Ethan said, a sleepy smile playing on his lips. “I’ll grab your stuff.”
“Thanks,” you said, as he lifted your bag and walked towards the door.
You grabbed your pillow and blanket off the couch before you followed him, desperate to squeeze in a few more hours of sleep on the drive. Fortunately, Chad’s SUV had third-row seating, so you didn’t have to take two separate cars. You decided the back row was the perfect place for you as Ethan loaded your stuff. He crawled in the back with you, waiting for the rest of your friends to come down.
“Are you sleepy?” he asked, as you laid your pillow against the back window and snuggled up.
“Mhm,” you responded, as he started to laugh.
“Chad made this obnoxious road trip playlist. You’re not going to be getting any sleep.”
“Fuck,” you sighed, “I guess I can nap when we get there.”
“Yeah, like you won’t be wired after the coffee,” Ethan said, his knowing smile making you roll your eyes.
You’d been friends with Ethan since you were toddlers. He knew you better than anyone else, and it could get a little annoying at times. He always seemed to know what your exact reaction would be to everything. He knew all your secrets, and you knew all of his. Well, almost all of them. He’d had feelings for you for years, but the possibility of rejection and damage to the friendship has helped him keep that secret tucked away.
“Hey,” Anika smiled as she crawled in the second row as you and Ethan gave a small wave. Mindy slid in beside her, as Chad struggled to load Tara’s stuff in the back with everyone else’s.
“Seriously, babe. Why do you need all of this?” he huffed, adjusting the bags that were already put away like some complicated game of Tetris.
“You never know when you might need extra clothes,” Tara laughed, leaving him to figure it out.
“Ethan, can I put one of these bags back there with you guys?” Chad asked, after a few minutes of him trying to make everything fit.
“Yeah,” he responded, before looking over to you. “It looks like we’ll be really close on this five-hour drive.”
“I could just sit on your lap,” you suggested, as his eyes went wide. “I’m kidding, Ethan.”
He almost wished you weren’t kidding, wanting to be as close to you as he possibly could. Your random little sweet touches here and there had him constantly craving more, constantly craving you.
Chad passed Mindy the extra suitcase, then she struggled to pass it back to Ethan. He took it from her, the space it was taking up making him scoot even closer to you.
“Sorry,” he said, “I can always move up to Mindy and Anika’s row if you need the space.”
“Then who’s going to show me memes on the way there?” you asked, as he slid his phone out of his pocket.
“I saved so many good ones to show you.”
Once you hit the road, Chad wanted to stop by Starbucks. He planned to go through the drive thru, but after Tara mentioned how complicated and potentially messy it would be to pass coffee back to everyone in his spotless car, he decided to park so everyone could go in.
After you ordered and were about to pay for your stuff, Ethan pulled his card out.
“I got it,” he said, putting his card into the reader.
“You didn’t have to do that,” you smiled, “You don’t want anything?”
“I don’t need to. I’ll just steal sips of whatever the iced or frozen thing you ordered,” he said, as the barista handed you a cake pop. “You’re eating that for breakfast?”
“Uh, yeah,” you said, like it was the most obvious answer.
“I think I’m hungry, too. Maybe I should order something,” he said, glancing at the menu.
You held your cake pop closer to him as he smiled and took a bite. You giggled at the crumbs on his bottom lip as he chewed, reaching up to wipe them off with your thumb. The sweet action made his eyes flutter, but he tried to play it off.
“This is so good,” he said, “I’m sorry for judging your breakfast choice.”
“Just make out already,” Mindy said, smirking at the two of you.
“What, I can’t share with my best friend?” you asked, grabbing your drink off the counter as your name was called.
“Best friend my ass,” she said, as she noticed Ethan’s cheeks start to turn pink. “You just wiped his mouth for him. That isn’t really a friend thing.”
“It is for us,” you smiled, taking a sip of your drink.
Ethan was getting uncomfortable under Mindy’s knowing gaze. It was almost like she had the ability in that moment to read his mind and know how he actually felt. He quickly tried to change the subject.
“So, what are we going to do while we’re up there?” he asked, you and Mindy both responding “Relax” at the same time.
“Is that it? You guys don’t want to explore or anything?”
You started to shake your head, “Between the bears, snakes, and whatever the fuck else is out there…I don’t think so.”
“I’d protect you,” he smiled, playfully wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “You know I’ve been going to the gym with Chad, I think I could take on a bear.”
“For someone that’s so smart, your common sense isn’t really there, is it?” Mindy asked, making you laugh.
“You guys are mean. I’m going to the car,” Ethan said, snatching your drink out of your hand before walking away.
“Hey!” you said, chasing after him.
The rest of the friend group walked up to Mindy, watching you try to take your coffee back from Ethan as you walked out.
“I think this vacation is about to be interesting,” Anika said, as Tara started to smile.
“I hope so. You remember the Halloween party where she drank a little too much? She told me she’s had the biggest crush on him for years,” she said, as Chad started to freak out.
“What?! Why didn’t you ever tell me she said that? He thinks he’s in the friend zone.”
“He’s definitely not. They’re practically already together,” Tara shook her head as she laughed, grabbing her drink off the counter. “Don’t say anything, though. Let them figure it out.”
Chad nodded, as the rest of the drinks were called out, “Let’s hit the road.”
After a couple hours of driving, you started to tune out the music, and felt like you could take a short nap. The coffee wasn’t helping as much as you expected it to, probably because Ethan drank half of it. You struggled to get comfortable against the window, until Ethan finally spoke up.
“You could always lay on me, if you want to,” he suggested, as you sleepily turned your body and snuggled up against him. Your head rested against his chest as he slouched in the seat, trying to make you more comfortable. He had a sweet smile on his lips as he looked down at you, studying your peaceful face as you slept.
His smile dropped when he noticed Mindy and Anika had turned around, looking at him questioningly. He held his finger up to his mouth, not wanting them to say anything to wake you up.
It didn’t matter though, because when Chad started to play ‘Life Is a Highway’ for the third time in the drive, you stirred awake and pulled away from Ethan.
“Chad, I swear if you don’t change that song, I’ll throw your phone out the window,” you said, as he started to laugh.
“Someone’s grumpy,” he said, changing the song. “Hey guys, were stopping at the next exit.”
He soon pulled into the gas station, and everyone started to pile out of the car. Before you could walk into the store, a number Tara didn’t recognize popped up on the screen.
“Hello?” she asked, before she started to smile. “Oh, hey. Yeah, we’ll be there soon…wait, what happened?”
You exchanged glances with everyone, unsure of what was going on.
“Does that one still have a good view? And all the things the other cabin had?”
Chad started to shake his head, realizing that the vacation wasn’t going to go as expected. When Tara hung up, all eyes were on her as they waited for her to say what was going on.
“Okay, uh, the cabin we were supposed to stay in got trashed by last night’s guests. The only cabin they had left has three rooms, but they all have one bed.”
Ethan’s heart started to thump in his chest as he listened to her speak. As much as he wanted to share a bed with you, and wanted to be close to you, it was hard for him to hold back, especially when you liked to sleep in the shortest pajama shorts that the bottom of your ass would hang out of. Sometimes he felt like you knew you had the effect on him, the teasing seeming almost intentional at times.
“You okay?” you asked, as he still stood there, deep in thought as the rest of your friends had started to walk away.
“Yeah, I’m good,” he smiled, “Let’s get some snacks.”
Ethan walked towards Chad once you made it inside, and you noticed that he was stressed. You tried to listen but couldn’t really hear anything at first. Then Ethan started to speak a little louder, “I can’t sleep with her. We have to figure something else out. It’d be torture to share a bed with her.” Chad suggested that one of you sleep on the couch, and at that point, you were starting to feel a little hurt. The thoughts of ‘Do I make him uncomfortable?’ and ‘Why can’t he just talk to me about it instead of Chad?’ floating around your head.
You went to Tara, Mindy, and Anika as they grabbed their snacks for the rest of the drive.
“Do you guys mind if I sit with you the rest of the way there?” you asked Mindy, as a confused expression appeared on all of their faces. “I think I’m annoying Ethan.”
“Yeah, that’s fine,” Anika said, “But I highly doubt you are.”
“Then why was he just talking to Chad about not wanting to sleep in the same bed with me?”
Tara glanced over to the two boys as Mindy shrugged, “That’s a little weird…but once we get there, you should ask him about it.”
You nodded, before heading to the counter to pay for your stuff. You weren’t sure what Ethan’s problem was. He was okay with you snuggling up to him in the car, but the idea of him sharing a king-sized bed with you was something he didn’t want to do.
When you made it back to the car, Ethan got in first. He was confused when you sat in the second row with Mindy and Anika.
“You’re just going to leave me back here by myself?” he joked, but he was a little sad about it.
“Yeah, girl talk.”
He nodded at your short response, relaxing back into the seat and putting his seatbelt on. Chad gave him a look in the rearview mirror once he noticed the new seating arrangement. Ethan just shrugged, not knowing what was going on.
Chad leaned over to Tara and started to whisper, “What’s their deal?”
“She heard Ethan say he didn’t want to share a bed with her,” she whispered back, as Chad pulled away and sighed.
“You sure we can’t just…I don’t know, interfere a little?” he asked, as Tara shook her head.
“They need to figure it out on their own,” she said, glancing back to you.
“Okay, no more stops. We’ll be there in a little over two hours,” Chad announced, as he pulled back out onto the road.
You could feel Ethan’s eyes on the back of your head as you talked with Mindy and Anika. You felt bad for being a little cold to him, but your feelings were hurt. It’s not something he expected you to hear, but you couldn’t help but wonder if this was how he felt all the time whenever you’d be too close. But if that was the case, why would he suggest that you could sleep on him earlier?
Once you made it to the cabin and everyone started to get out, you looked around as you stretched. You saw another cabin off in the distance but couldn’t see a whole lot from where you were standing other than the trees. When you walked inside, your jaw dropped at the panoramic view out of the huge windows that lined the side of the cabin.
“This is gorgeous!” you said, walking over to the door that led to the deck. It was huge, stretching along the side of the house. There was a table, some rocking chairs, and a hot tub on the end of it.
“Too bad we have to hunt for our own food,” Chad said, as you looked over at him, “Just kidding. There’s a small grocery store not far from here. After we get all the stuff unloaded, we’re going to get what we need.”
Tara soon walked in, standing beside Chad as he put his arm around her.
“Are you mad at Ethan?” she asked, as you shook your head, not wanting to go into detail in front of Chad. “He seemed a little upset.”
“I guess I better go talk to him,” you groaned. You searched the house, seeing Mindy and Anika, but no Ethan. You finally looked outside to see him leaning against the car. He was deep in thought as you walked up to him.
“You should see the view. It’s beautiful,” you said, pulling him out of his thoughts as he looked at you.
“It’s kind of hard to even care about that when my best friend is mad at me,” he said, looking back down to the ground.
“I’m not mad,” you said, the cheeriness of your voice sounding fake.
“So, you’re mad and you’re lying to me. Cool,” he mumbled, pushing himself off the car and heading towards the back of it.
You followed after him, “I just thought we were getting a little too cozy.”
He scoffed at your words, “You’ve never cared about that before.”
“Okay, I’m going back inside. You can’t be mad at me for giving you the space you seem to want.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” he questioned, but you ignored him as you walked back into the cabin.
Chad soon joined him outside to help him carry in the stuff. He noticed Ethan’s mood, and started to feel bad that he knew you had your feelings, and if he’d just say something, the whole issue would be fixed.
“You okay, dude?” Chad asked, as Ethan started to walk towards the door with some of the luggage.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
As the day progressed, you brought up sleeping on the couch before Ethan could say anything. He argued that he should, but you eventually won the argument. The tension seemed to resolve a little. Your feelings were still hurt, but he was your best friend, and you didn’t want to spend the vacation mad at him.
When Chad talked about going to the store to get food again, you decided to stay at the cabin. The sun was starting to set, and the slight chill from the higher altitude made you really want to get in the hot tub. Ethan stayed with you, not feeling comfortable leaving you there by yourself. He sat in one of the rocking chairs as you walked out in your swimsuit with a towel in hand.
“You going to make me get in by myself?” you asked, smiling at him. He was trying so hard to not stare at your body, so he maintained eye contact.
“Fine, give me a minute,” he sighed, walking inside to change.
You eased into the hot water, sitting where you had the perfect view of the sunset over the mountain line. Ethan soon walked out and hung his towel over the side of the deck before climbing in to sit beside you.
“This is so beautiful,” you said, taking in the pink and orange hue in the sky. It was making your skin glow when Ethan looked at you.
“Yeah, beautiful,” he said, as you looked over to him and smiled. You sat in silence for a few minutes, before he spoke up, “What was with you earlier?”
You sighed, not wanting to say that you heard him talking to Chad, “I just, I don’t know. Maybe we’re getting a little too close.”
“Why do you feel that way?”
“I don’t feel like talking about it right now,” you said, before Ethan started to scoot away. “What?” you asked, looking over to him.
“If you think we’re getting too close, I’m giving you your space,” he said, before getting out.
“You’re going to get mad at me if I don’t feel like telling you what’s wrong?” you questioned, as he started to get mad.
“You tell me everything. Why can’t you tell me what’s wrong right now so we can move past it?”
“Because you don’t like to be open about what’s bothering you,” you snapped, climbing out as well. You slipped a little, almost falling on the deck before Ethan caught you. “Thanks, I got it.” You pulled away from him and walked inside to change into dry clothes.
Ethan didn’t know what you meant, because other than his feelings towards you, he was completely open. He knew you hadn’t figured that out, so he decided to pull Tara outside to the deck after your friends got back from the store.
“What’s up with her?” he nervously asked, “What did I do?”
“I’m not getting in the middle of this, so all I’m going to say is that you both just need to open your eyes,” she said, as he looked at her, still just as confused as he was before the conversation even started. “She’s your best friend. You know her better than anyone. You can figure this out.”
“It’d be so much easier if you just told me, though,” He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “She thinks we’re too close. What’s that about?”
“Fuck, I’m not telling you anything else other than this, but she overheard you and Chad talking earlier about you not wanting to sleep in the same bed with her. She didn’t say what else was said, but her feelings were hurt. Now, go fix it,” she said, walking away from him.
He started to think back to the things he said, but there was no way he could just come out and apologize for making you feel bad without explaining why he said what he said. He was worried about ruining the friendship, but with the current state of it, maybe it wouldn’t be the worst idea to finally just tell you. You’ve never been in an argument, and you’ve never even gotten mad at each other, so it was all just so confusing for him as he tried to decide on the right thing to do.
When he walked back inside, he started to look for you. He asked Chad where you were before he pointed to you, asleep on the couch.
“I need advice, because I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing right now,” Ethan whispered to Chad, “She overheard our conversation earlier.”
Chad started to nod, as Ethan’s eyes went wide.
“You knew she heard it? Fuck, dude,” he sighed, “How do I tell her that the problem with us sharing a bed isn’t because I don’t want to be around her, but it’s because I won’t be able to keep my hands off her?”
“Wow, uh, I didn’t know things were that hard for you,” Chad laughed, as Ethan rolled his eyes.
“I just…I’m so fucking attracted to her, and I don’t want to make her uncomfortable,” he said, looking over to you to make sure you were still asleep. “I want to be affectionate with her, it’s hard enough when we aren’t trying to sleep in the same bed.”
“Maybe she wants the same thing,” Chad suggested, as Ethan shook his head.
“There’s no way. She would’ve shown me hints by now.”
“Just open your eyes,” Chad said, making Ethan a little irritated.
“That’s what Tara said. What does that even mean?” Ethan asked, as Chad shrugged.
“You’ll figure it out, I’m going to bed.”
Ethan decided to head to bed, hoping a good night’s sleep would help him come up with the answers he needed, but he couldn’t get comfortable. He just kept tossing and turning and couldn’t stop thinking about you.
You started to stir awake, noticing a sound coming from outside the front door. Once you heard the doorknob move the slightest bit, you jumped up and ran to Ethan’s room.
“Hey, something’s outside,” you said, as he slowly sat up and laughed a little.
“We are out in the middle of nowhere right now. I’m sure there is something outside.”
“The doorknob wiggled, Ethan. I can’t sleep out there by myself like that…unless you want to check it out for me,” you sighed, as he stood up.
From the moonlight that was flowing through the window, you noticed that he was shirtless, and that his workouts with Chad seemed to really be paying off. Not that it mattered, because you’d think he was attractive regardless. Then you noticed how low his sweatpants were hanging on his hips, and felt your mouth start to water.
Ethan took in your appearance, the shorts he fully expected you to wear snugly hugging your hips and your hard nipples from the cold air in the cabin showing through the thin material of your shirt. He wanted to just tell you to sleep in the bed with him, but he couldn’t. He’d gotten so used to all the little affectionate things you’d regularly do, things he chalked up to the friendship being so close, but it was still so hard for him to push his thoughts about you to the side.
“You don’t have to go out with me,” he said, walking towards the cabin door with you closely behind him.
“I don’t want anything to happen to you,” you said, making him laugh.
“Then why did you ask me to see what was out here?”
He slowly opened the door, the both of you jumping when a large raccoon scurried away.
“You’re worried about that cute little guy breaking in and snuggling with you on the couch?” he asked, as you rolled your eyes. “I’m kidding. Let’s make sure there’s nothing else out here.”
He pulled out his phone, turning the flashlight on and looking around to make sure there wasn’t anything else you needed to be concerned about. You noticed something along the tree line, it’s glowing eyes lit up by the light.
“What is that?” you asked, as it started to step a little closer.
“I think we should go inside,” he said, grabbing your hand and leading you towards the door.
That’s when the animal started to run, the fear coursing through your veins making you cling to Ethan.
“It’s a fucking deer,” he laughed, trying to catch his breath. You were still attached to him when he tried to pull away from you. “You’re safe, let’s go back inside.”
Once you made it back to your spot on the couch, he stood in the middle of the living room, starting to feel a little bad that he had that huge bed to himself. He noticed that you still seemed a little nervous from what’d just happened, and he let out a big sigh before he started to speak.
“Do you want to sleep in the room with me?”
“Not if it’s going to be ‘torture’ for you,” you said, as he started to get irritated.
“You don’t get it,” he said, walking back towards the room. You were really starting to get sick of all the conversations you’d had within the last day ending in one of you walking away, so you followed him.
“What don’t I get?” you asked, as he sat down on the side of the bed and looked at the floor. You walked around to stand in front of him, waiting for him to answer you. “I don’t want this entire week to be this way. Just fucking talk to me!”
He sighed, before looking up to you, “What you heard earlier isn’t as bad as you think it is…the torture thing you were talking about, just look at what you’re fucking wearing.”
You looked down at your choice of sleepwear and started to feel a little self-conscious. You tried to pull your shorts down a little, noticing how much they’d ridden up in your sleep. He watched you as you tried to cover your body.
“Hey,” he said softly, as your eyes connected with his, “I didn’t mean that in a bad way…Just…get in the bed, okay?”
“Tell me how you mean it then, Ethan. I can’t read your mind,” you said, walking back around to the other side of the bed.
“I will in the morning. I just need you to stay on your side of the bed,” he sighed, looking over to you.
“Fine,” you said, pulling the blanket over you as you settled into the bed. He lay on his side, his back towards you.
After a few minutes, he rolled over to face you. He couldn’t take it anymore, and he needed to know if you felt the same about him. “You know you mean a lot to me, right?”
“You mean a lot to me, too,” you smiled, as he moved closer towards you. “So I have to stay on my side, but you don’t?”
Your breathing started to get heavy when you noticed how close he was getting, his eyes looking into yours. He didn’t say anything as he leaned in, his lips gently kissing yours. You were so surprised by it that you didn’t kiss him back. You wanted to, but he pulled away before you had the chance for your brain to process everything.
He scooted back to his side, laying on his back as he started to think about how he’d just ruined the friendship.
“Ethan?” you asked, looking over to him.
“I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry,” he sighed, as you started to smirk. You knew that this was your opportunity to finally tell him how you felt now that he’d opened the door for it to happen.
“Ethan, are you interested in me?” you asked, as he nodded.
“It doesn’t have to be weird now, does it? You didn’t kiss me back, and that’s fine. It sucks, but I’ll get over it,” he said, as you sat up and inched closer to him.
“What if I don’t want you to get over it?” you asked, leaning down to kiss him.
The kiss was so needy, both of you craving each other as you moved to straddle him. His hands held your hips as yours went to his hair. After a few minutes, you pulled away, the both of you panting as his hands rubbed your hips. The way he was looking at you made you wet, as your hips started to grind against him.
“Shit,” he quietly groaned, not wanting your friends to hear him.
“You okay?” you asked, looking down at him. He nodded, desperate for you to make another move. You reached down to grab the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head, his eyes going wide as he stared at your chest. His hands reached up to massage your breasts, the feeling making your eyes flutter, “I’ll take that as a yes.”
You kept grinding against him as whimpers started to slip past your lips from the friction against your clit and the feeling of his fingers pinching at your nipples.
“You have to be quiet,” he whispered, moving his hands back to your hips to make you move faster.
“Wait,” you mumbled, your hips coming to a stop. You started to move off him, noticing the wet spot on his sweatpants from where your wetness had soaked through your panties and the thin shorts. “Can I suck your cock?”
He felt like he could cum from those words alone as he nodded his head. “I need you to tell me, baby. Use your words,” you teased, rubbing your hand over his hard cock.
“Please,” he whimpered, the sound making you cock your eyebrow as you smiled at him. He adjusted his hips so it was easier your you to slide his sweatpants and boxers down, his heart pounding in his chest. He’d tried to imagine what your mouth would feel like before, but as soon as he actually felt it, it was better than he could’ve ever imagined. Your tongue licked up the underside of his cock and swirled around the tip. “Oh fuck,” he groaned, before you took him in your mouth. “Fuck, that feels so good.”
You’d barely done anything to him yet, and he was already being so vocal. Your core was throbbing as you took him as far as you could, the gagging feeling making him gasp. His hand went to the back of your head, gently encouraging you to keep going.
You knew he was getting close when the light grip he had on your hair got tighter, his actions making you moan around him as you started to move faster. His bottom lip was in between his teeth as he watched you, trying so hard not to be loud. It only took your throat tightening around him a few more times before he finally let his whimpers out again.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he said, his eyes fluttering and his jaw falling open as he started to release in your mouth. You got him through it, before sitting up and smiling at him. “There’s no way that just happened,” he sighed in disbelief as he caught his breath. “That was amazing.”
“Well, it definitely did happen. I can still taste your cum.”
He groaned at your words before he flipped you over and sucked one of your nipples into his mouth.
“Fuck, Ethan,” you gasped out, his tongue swirling against you as he sucked. He moved to the other side, looking up at you as his teeth grazed against your nipple. Your hand reached down to rub yourself over your shorts, the throbbing in your core starting to hurt.
“Let me take care of you, baby,” he said, kissing down your tummy. He stopped at the top of your pajama shorts and looked up at you before sliding them down. “This is okay?”
“Mhm,” you got out, as your fingers started to run through his hair. He leaned his head into it, loving the feeling of your nails against his scalp.
His fingers went under the waistband of your shorts as he started to pull them down. With how tight they were, he was struggling to get them over your ass. You started to giggle, lifting your hips a little so he could get them off of you easier. He leaned back a little to pull them down your legs before he leaned back down to where you needed him.
“Can you put your hands back in my hair?”
You nodded, your fingers tangling in his curls as he licked a stripe up your clit.
“Shit,” you gasped, as he really started to get into it. He kept alternating between swirling his tongue against your clit and dipping it inside of you. You started to whimper a little louder than he wanted you to, so he pulled away. The lack of contact made you whine as a hushed laugh slipped past his lips and he shook his head.
“I want to make you feel good, but you need to be quiet, baby,” he said, his eyes looking into yours. You nodded, knowing how hard it was going to be for you.
His head went back to his place in between your thighs, placing gentle licks to your clit as he started to push one of his fingers into you. You tried to muffle your moans with your bottom lip, but once he added a second finger and started to move it against that spongy spot inside of you, you had to cover your mouth with your hand.
His eyes looked up into yours as you started to tug harder on his hair. He was proud of himself, so happy that he was the one that was making you feel so good that you were struggling to keep your sounds in.
“Keep moving your fingers just like that,” you whined, before covering your mouth again.
He inched you closer and closer to your orgasm, your toes curling against the sheets as the grip on his hair made him groan against you. The feeling of your pussy starting to flutter around his fingers made him groan even louder as he thought about how amazing it would feel around his cock. Your body started to shake as he used his free arm to pin your hips down so he could work you through it. Once your pussy stopped clenching, your grip on his hair relaxed, a goofy smile on your lips as he looked back up at you.
“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, as you started to make grabby hands at him.
He hovered over you and looked into your eyes as your arms wrapped around him. You felt his hard cock press against you as you started to wiggle your hips a little underneath him.
“I don’t have a condom,” he said, as you rolled your eyes.
“Just pull out,” you said with a smirk, his eyes going wide at the suggestion. “I’m on birth control, it’s fine.”
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he groaned, as he reached in between the two of you to line up with your entrance.
He slowly slid inside of you and stilled to give you time to adjust to his size. He started to kiss you as you grew impatient.
“Please,” you mumbled against his lips as he smiled.
“Please what?” he questioned, not moving until he heard what you wanted.
“Please fuck me,” you said, your words dripping with lust as you pleaded.
He started to move as your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. He watched the faces you were making with each thrust, not wanting to miss a single one.
“You’re so tight,” he groaned, his hips moving a little faster.
He started to drill into your g-spot as your fingernails drug across his back. You were trying to be quiet, but it was getting harder with each deep thrust.
“Quiet, baby,” he warned, his hips slowing a little. “You’re going to wake everybody up.”
“Make me be quiet,” you said sweetly, an almost animalistic look appearing in Ethan’s eyes at your words.
He leaned in to kiss you as he sped back up, his mouth catching all your moans. You reached in between his body and yours to rub quick circles on your clit. When your moans turned into high-pitch whimpers, he pulled his mouth away from yours and replaced it with his hand as he mercilessly pounded into you, the sound of his skin slapping against yours and the faint tapping of the headboard against the wall filling the room.
“That’s it, baby. You can take it,” he whispered, as your eyebrows started to furrow, and your pussy started to clench. “You’re doing such a good job for me.”
He was sure he was going to have scratches all over his back as your nails just kept digging, but he didn’t let up.
“You gonna cum?” he asked, as you quickly nodded your head. “Cum for me, baby.”
That’s all it took for you to start shaking underneath him. The way your pussy spasmed around him felt so good that his own orgasm was quickly approaching.
“Oh fuck,” he groaned, pulling out and shooting his hot cum all over your stomach.
He sat on his knees as he caught his breath. Your sleepy smile made him smirk as he started to get up.
“Do you want to take a shower with me? At least to get this off you?”
You nodded, as he slid off the side of the bed. He tried to help you up, your legs wobbling as soon as your feet touched the floor.
“You okay?” he asked with a small laugh as you walked in front of him.
“Yeah, that was…wow,” you said, your brain still clouded with the post-orgasm haze.
“Shh, we need to be quick. I don’t want anyone to see us naked,” he whispered, leading you down the dark hall to the bathroom.
You grabbed some of the complimentary body wash off the counter as Ethan cut the shower on. He stepped inside as you followed, the water flow washing his cum off you. You stayed silent for the most part, other than the occasional small laughs slipping out as you’d thought about what you’d just done with your best friend.
Once you stepped out and grabbed a towel to dry off, Ethan’s hands wrapped around your waist as he kissed your wet shoulder.
“If I would’ve known that was going to happen, I would’ve kissed you sooner,” he said, pulling away to dry himself off. When he turned around, you noticed the bright red marks that ran front his shoulder blades to the middle of his back.
“Uhm, it looks like you’re going to be wearing a shirt for the rest of this trip,” you said, as he turned around to look at it in the mirror.
“Damn, I look like I was mauled,” he laughed, as you stood on your tippy toes to kiss him.
“Let’s go to bed,” you mumbled, as the two of you walked out on your towels.
When you made it back to the room, you started to grab clothes to put on when Ethan stopped you.
“Can we just sleep naked?” he asked, smiling as you nodded.
You crawled back into the bed scooting to the middle as he laid down beside you. Your head went to his chest as his fingers traced patterns on your back, the soothing motion soon putting you to sleep.
When you woke up the next morning, Ethan was starting to stir awake, too, hearing the voices of your friends as they talked in the kitchen.
“I guess we should get up,” you said, as you started to pull away. He grabbed your arm and pulled you back to him.
“How do you feel about lazy morning sex?” he asked, as you smirked at him.
“Last night wasn’t enough for you?” you questioned. He shook his head in response.
You glanced down and noticed that the blanket was halfway down his thighs, his hard cock on display.
“Can you be quiet though?” he asked, as you shrugged.
“Probably not, but let’s try it,” you said, “How do you want to do this?”
“Roll over onto your side.”
You did as he said, his hands immediately starting to roam from your thigh, up your side and to your breast.
“Do you need me to eat you out first?” he asked, sitting up a little to look at you. “Because I really don’t mind doing that again.”
You giggled at his eagerness before shaking your head. “I’m already wet, and we don’t have a lot of time.”
“Fine,” he sighed, adjusting your hips to slide into you.
His thrusts were slow as his hand held onto your hip. Sweet kisses were placed along your shoulder as you started to move your hips back to meet his.
“You feel so fucking good,” he whispered, “and your skin is just so soft, and your just so beautiful.”
You smiled as he kept saying sweet things to you, his thrusts starting to speed up.
“Fuck, baby,” you whimpered out, as the tip of his cock kept hitting that special spot inside you. “That feels so good.”
“Shhh,” he whispered, as his hips moved faster. You were struggling to meet his thrusts, the tiredness from only a few hours of sleep catching up to you. “It’s okay, babe. I’ll do all the work.”
He kept hitting that spot as you felt your orgasm approaching.
“I don’t think I can be quiet,” you said, the nervousness evident in your voice. You were tensing up, not wanting to cum because you didn’t know what would come out of your mouth.
“You’re almost there, baby. Just relax,” he cooed, as his hand went from your thigh to cover your mouth again.
You were whimpering into his hand as the euphoric feeling started to wash over you, your pussy tightening around him as he tried to fuck you through it. It got harder for him the tighter you squeezed.
“I’m gonna cum, baby,” he said, pulling out and painting your lower back with his release.
In that moment, you heard a light knock on the door.
“Fuck,” Ethan whispered, pulling the blanket back up to cover the both of you.
You both closed your eyes as the door eased open, trying to make it seem like you were still asleep. Chad peaked in, before quickly backing away and closing the door.
You started to giggle as Ethan pulled away, “I need to get this off of you before it gets all over me and the bed.”
He grabbed a few tissues out of the box on the nightstand and cleaned your back for you. You rolled over as he leaned down to kiss you.
“Let’s get dressed. I’m starving,” you said, as he pulled away.
He nodded as you slid off the bed, watching you as you walked to the other side of the room to grab your clothes. He hated to watch you put them back on, wishing the two of you could just stay naked in bed together all day.
“I guess this friendship isn’t so innocent anymore,” he said, sliding his shirt on over his head.
“Friendship? After last night and this morning this is still just a friendship?” you questioned, as he walked over to wrap his arms around your waist.
“You’re right, it’s way more than that,” he smiled, leaning in to kiss you.
“You better not say we’re just fuck buddies, either. I’ll drown you in the hot tub,” you said with a smirk, as you got ready to walk out to join your friends.
“You’re way more than that, babe.”
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dantakeyoman · 1 year
Note
I would reallyy love if you could write about how when the Sully family reaches the new tribe all of the Metkayina girls are trying really hard to get Neteyam to notice them (Cause you know he's the oldest, a good warrior and is gonna be a leader soon) but they dont know he already has a mate and the reader gets jealous. So neteyam has to comfort her and when she realizes she is being silly and has nothing to worry about...this one metkayina girl really pushes it....(im talking getting touchy with neteyam, always finding ways to get him alone and is rude to the reader) and she loses her absolute shit and you can decide what she does but i want it to be very possessive like behavior😏 sorry this is long😅
Metkayina Girls Start Falling At Neteyam's Feet and You, His Mate, Get Jealous (SFW)
Reader is Fem! Omaticaya
CW: a story of jealousy with aa twist, these girls are really shameless, Kiri and Lo'ak duo, sorry im posting so late, my stomach actually really hurts rn, but not writing for so long has been driving me crazy, anyway, enjoy <3 ( i barfed in my mouth a little bit writing some of this cringey shit )
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"Humans?! That must've been so scary for you! What happened next?" Leyelu asked as she stretched, laying herself stomach-down in the sand in front of Neteyam, batting her eyelashes.
"Yeah, did you fight them? I'm sure you did, since you are such a strong warrior," Nayat smiled, scooching her seat closer to the boy.
"Um...well, I didn't-." "Impossible. I can imagine you swooping in and saving your family. All heroic-like," Srraza smirked, openly raking her eyes up and down Neteyam's body, not caring how uncomfortable he looked.
Their shameless display made you want to vomit, and possibly scream, at the same time.
There were a total of three girls. Leyelu, Nayat, and Srraza. And all were practically throwing themselves at Neteyam.
It had been about a week and some change since you and the Sullys arrived at Awa'atlu. And every day, without fail, these girls managed to tail Neteyam, following him and showering him in praise whenever they could.
You hadn't had not two seconds alone with him before one of them, or all three, came barging in with some fake excuse of a heavy basket they needed help lifting or a boat they needed help loading.
You knew Neteyam never entertained their advances, and were thankful for it.
But being his mate, you couldn't help but feel frustrated. (and maybe a little jealous)
"If you scowl any harder, it's going to become permanent," Kiri playfully warned, your face amusing her.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," you curtly answered, tearing your eyes away from the scene angrily.
"Yes. I'm fine is stretched tightly across your face right now," Lo'ak smirked from his spot in the sand, hands behind his head as he subathed.
"(y/n), I hope you know that Neteyam would never-." "I know," you sighed, already guessing what Kiri was going to say.
"I trust Neteyam completely. It's just-."
You couldn't finish the sentence. It was embarrassing.
"Just what?" Lo'ak asked, ears perking in intrigue.
"Give her a minute," Kiri shushed, smacking him in the arm, earning an annoyed ow! from the boy.
"It's not that I'm scared Neteyam will leave me. It is just...I don't see why he won't," you started, staring down at your feet in shame.
Kiri and Lo'ak both whipped their heads towards you in disbelief, their expressions contorting into ones of confusion.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Lo'ak asked, confused.
"Lo'ak!" Kiri scolded.
She was thinking the same thing, but he could've been a little easier on the delivery.
"Look at them," you sighed, holding out your hand to the girls, who were still fake listening to Neteyam's story.
"Leyelu's father is one of the best hunters in the clan, only second to Tonowari. Nayat's mother is incredibly skilled on the loom, who is now teaching Nayat everthing she knows. For Eywa's sake, Srraza is studying under Ronal to be a healer."
The brother ans sister's expressions slowly softened, the meaning behind your words now coming to light.
"You are the best dancer the Omaticaya have ever seen. And the best the Metkayina have seen, as well," Kiri tried to comfort, a warm smile on her face.
"Oh, yes, because dancing can help me hunt for food. And dancing can help me make clothes. Let's not forget, it can help me heal as well," you sarcastically agreed, snippy.
Kiri sighed.
She didn't take it to heart, not one bit. She understood your frustration.
"They all have spent their years learning skills that can be of use, be important. All I have to show for mine are a couple of dance moves."
Lo'ak looked like he wanted to say something, but decided against it until you were finished.
"And the best part of it is they are all gorgeous, the most sought after girls in this village. And I'm just...me."
Kiri felt her heart ache.
She had no idea you had been feeling this way this whole time.
She thought it was just a small case of jealousy. But it seemed to be much deeper than that.
"So, no. I'm not frustrated or scared of Neteyam leaving me. I am frustrated and scared because he has every reason to."
You turned back to the scene, only to see Leyelu resting her hands on Neteyam's chest, leaning into his face.
"Hey, Neteyam. Have you ever given thought to who could possibly be your mate?" she asked with a smirk, peering up at him through her beautiful eyelashes.
It was as if you didn't even exist.
"(y/n), wai-." But you ignored Kiri, abruptly standing up, not wanting to watch the scene any longer.
"Dammit, (y/n)! Sit down and look," Lo'ak groaned, roughly pulling you back down and turning your face to watch Neteyam.
"Do not touch me," Neteyam sternly ordered, grabbing the girl's wrists and pulling her hands of him, harshly.
"I know that you know I already have a mate. And you trying to make advances on me while knowing that is incredibly disrespectful."
The girls were giving him puppy dog eyes, as if that would guilt him into stopping.
It made you gag.
"I do not appreciate how you've been disregarding (y/n) this entire week. Especially when she has done nothing to you."
"That's exactly the point. She does nothing. She is just there with you. You two do not even act like mates," Srraza scoffed, rolling her eyes.
"That is true. I never see you two hug, or kiss, or embrace each other romantically at all," Nayat agreed.
"Because any time I get alone with her is interrupted by you three!" Neteyam exclaimed, annoyed.
His sudden burst shocked you.
You didn't know he felt this.
"I only get time to myself every once in a while, and I like to spend it with (y/n). But ever since I've gotten here, you three have used every mean under the sun to keep that from happening. For Eywa's sake, that was what I was on my way to do now before you all came along!"
"But why? She doesn't hunt, she doesn't loom, she doesn't heal, she can't even carry a tune. She's boring, plain. Why would you willingly want to spend time with her?" Leyelu asked, cocking an eyebrow s she crossed her arms.
Ouch.
"That's why you look like a dead fish, bitch!" Lo'ak loudly called, making you and Kiri die in snickers.
The girl whipped around, glaring daggers at the boy.
"Lo'ak!" Kiri tried to scold, but couldn't through her laughter.
"It's true! If her eyes were any farther apart, she'd be able to see the back of her head," he huffed.
You were his friend. And he didn't like people talking shit about you.
Meanwhile, Neteyam was using every ounce of his strength to not bare his teeth at the girl.
"I don't care about what she can't do. I love what she can. She's a phenomenal dancer, and has forgotten more moves than you three will ever learn. She's funny, she's kind, she's caring, the farthest thing from boring. And her beauty makes the three of you look like a patch wet sand. I am lucky to call her my mate, and if you all would excuse me, I'm going to spend the rest of the day with her," Neteyam angrily corrected, pushing past them and walking towards you.
And as he drew closer, you smiled, wider than you had in a while.
You felt foolish for thinking he could do better than you.
Especially after he just confessed that he believed he could do no better than you.
It made you feel happy, and loved, and secure in your relationship.
There was no one that could take your place because you were the place, and the only one who could ever be it.
And now knowing that fact, sent you over the moon.
taglist !!
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4K notes · View notes
almondamaretto · 4 months
Text
dumb
matt sturniolo x afab!reader
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summary: matt thinks you’re too smart for him, so he decides that he needs to fix that
warnings: smut 😼😼, dom!matt, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do that), praise, dumbification kink???
for u nasty bitches with a dumbification kink ahem me
also im writing this 1000% stoned out of my mind so it's gonna be extra juicy trust. not proofreading ts !!! 🫶🏼😋
✄┈┈┈┈
You flutter your eyes awake as a low vibration from underneath you echoes through your head, a hand is gently caressing your head, the other being thrown around in emphasis.
Blinking the sleep away from your eyes and raising your head, your blurry vision is met with the black fabric of Matt's sweater.
You give his waist one last tight hug, before pushing yourself up and settling next to him, yawning dramatically.
Stretching your arms up, you reveal a small sliver of your skin from underneath your hoodie; immediately a wandering hand finds home around your waist, causing goosebumps crawl over your skin.
Enjoying the teasing touch of Matt's jewelry-ridden fingers, you avert your attention to the theatric and passionate discussion in front of you.
"No, I'm telling you, the moon landing is not real! Because, like-" Nick sat at the edge of the couch eagerly.
Cutting his brother of mid rant, Matt's hand gripped your waist slightly tighter; "No, cause like...why haven't they been back to the moon in all these years!?"
"That's a good point"
"That's what I'm saying!!"
You shake your head, furrowing your brows "What the fuck are you idiots talking about?"
"Y/n."
"Chris?"
"Do you believe in the moon landing?" You frowned, stuttering over your words for a moment. "You don't?"
"Y/n, just think about it! Its been, what, 50 years since Neil fuckin' Armstrong supposedly 'landed on the moon.' So why haven't we been back?"
"And don’t say its a money problem."
"Would you guys like some reasons?" You were always careful to ask before sharing your extensive knowledge---no one likes a know it all.
Watching the three of them nod, you sigh and lean back into Matt's side, crossing your legs over his, biting your lip as his hand fell onto your thigh.
"The main reason we ever went to the moon in the first place is because of the Cold War and the Space Race, 'cause America wanted to prove that they had the bigger dick and shit. That means it was super funded back then---over time NASA's funding went down."
Matt's cold rings press against the warmth of your thighs as he alternates between caressing the length of your thigh and kneading the plush skin of your upper thigh.
"But they could've saved money over time to do it!"
His hand travels further up your leg, threatening to breech the hemline of your shorts.
"They spend all their money on- ahem-on satellite stuff and tech-technology." You lift your outside leg to hopefully block the sight from Nick and Chris.
"N-not to mention they have to get the, the uh- timing just right to avoid landing on craters."
Quickly shooting your hand down to grab Matt's, you swallow roughly as his knuckle traces a circle over your clothed clit.
You see him smirk from the corner of your eye, silently cursing him.
"I don't even care that you have good points, I'm sticking with its fake."
When you don't respond, focused on hiding Matt's curious fingers, Nick and Chris alike are confused.
"You good, Y/n?"
"Girl... you look so focused that you kinda sorta look like you're ‘bout to throw up..."
"Yeah, Y/n/n. You doing okay, baby?" Matt smirks through a teasing voice.
Glaring up at him, you gather your words and place them carefully as his fingers snake under the band of your bottoms.
"Sorry, my head is just hurting from sleeping earlier. I may go to bed soon." You lie as your hand grips his tighter.
A warm hand is pressed to your forehead, followed by the clicking of a tongue.
"You feel warm, pretty. Lets get you to bed." Matt plays into the lie quickly.
Nick almost audibly gags from the other side of the sofa, gathering his stuff and stand. "Okay, after that I need to get away, I'm going to bed."
"Wait, what? You're just leaving me? Alone? Nick I'm coming with."
The pair's arguments grow faint as they climbed the staircase, Matt all but dragging you to his room, quickly closing his door and locking it.
He brought one hand to your hip and the other to the back of your neck, pulling your body flush against his. His lips fervently found yours, kissing you roughly as he walked you backwards.
The backs of your knees met the edge of his bed and you fell backwards onto the plush surface, bouncing up and down a few times as you watched him rid himself of his shirt before climbing on top of you, his lips attaching to your neck
You hum sweetly and wrap your arms around his back, one hand reaching up to rake through the hair on the nape of his neck.
His hands trace your sides diligently, squeezing the plush skin of your thighs as he caresses them, lighting every inch of skin on fire.
"So good, Matt."
He kisses his way back up to your lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth as it opens in a gasp from his hand snaking under the hem of your shirt and grabbing your breast.
Melting into his touch, one hand grips onto his brown locks, trailing your nails lightly down his bare back with the other.
His tattooed arm trails up your front, hand finding home loosely wrapped around the base of your neck causing you to let out a whine into the heated kiss.
A trail of saliva connects the two of you as Matt pulls away from your lips, grabbing the end of your shirt and lifting it over your head.
His pink lips immediately attach to your right nipple, low whines falling eagerly from your bruised lips.
Pulling away briefly, he brings two fingers up to your mouth, resting them on your raw-bitten lips. "Suck" he demands simply, pushing his digits into your mouth, pressing down onto your tongue.
Matt continues to trail kisses down your sternum and stomach, leaving slow, teasing kisses just above the band of your shorts.
A teasing finger dips below the band of the blue striped shorts, pulling it away from your skin and letting it snap back into place. A whimper to fell from your filled mouth, prompting matt to press down harder on your tongue.
“What did I say? Thought you were supposed to be smart, baby” He teases condescendingly, lips still trailing down your front, leaving a slow and unsatisfying kiss right where you needed him most.
Your cheeks pull in as you suck on his fingers, humming out a whine as you mentally urge him to stop teasing.
As if he can read your thoughts, he pulls his now slick fingers from your mouth, using both his hands to smoothly slide your shorts and panties down, tossing them across the room.
He sits up, taking a moment to admire his girl, hooded eyes raking up and down your body with desire. "So perfect... my perfect girl."
You relish in his praise, avoiding his eyes in embarrassment as you try to cover yourself.
His large hands quickly find yours, pushing them down to your sides as he flattens himself against his bed, head hovering over your sopping wet folds.
Your hands fought against his hold as he nips at your inner thighs, soothing his marks with his tongue.
"Matt, please" A breathless moan escapes from your pleading mouth, causing him to stare up into your eyes, a smirk on his lips.
"What do you want, mama? Say it." He demanded, sucking a harsh mark just a few inches from your needy core.
"Fuck, Matt. I need you, need your tongue, please baby." Your right hand broke from his hold, immediately gripping onto his soft brown locks. "Good girl" You tug and exhale an audible gasp as he finally flattens his tongue against you, causing him to hum out a moan.
Matt traces shapes his name on your sensitive bud, occasionally wrapping his lips around you and sucking harshly, chuckling as your hips buck against his face in pleasure. He could die a happy man delving in your slick folds.
One arm pins you down by your hips, the other starting to circle your dripping hole in tantalizing strokes.
His actions quickly turned you into a moaning, whimpering mess, your babbling only spurring him on.
The once teasing circles turned into a quick thrust as he stretched you out, fingertips curling up into you, hitting that spot inside of you.
"Oh, fuck! Matt, fuck, fuck, fuck."
"Feel good baby? Huh? Use your words." He said, pulling away for a brief moment before continuing.
The all-too familiar knot formed in the pit of your stomach; "So cl-"
As you began to speak, his movements became rougher and faster, forcing a near pornographic moan from your beat-up lips.
"Hm? What was that, ma?"
Both of your hands bury themselves in his thick hair, tugging as he fingered you roughly.
"God, m'so--fuck, Matt. I'm, m'so-so close!" You struggle to get out, hips pushing against his flexing arm as he pulls you to the edge, finally pushing you over with one last flick of his tongue.
Lower half shaking, you try to catch your breath, quickly finding the task difficult as he relentlessly continued to fuck you with his fingers. Your thighs close around him, but he still continued, prying them open with his other arm.
"Too much! Too much." You think your whine falls on deaf ears but he slowly pulls away, leaving one last quick kiss on your sensitive clit.
Matt traces gentle circles on your thigh as you come down from your high, only stopping to remove his sweatpants and boxers, sitting on the edge of the bed and stroking himself slowly.
Your eyes drift to the sight and, biting your lip with droopy eyes, you slowly rise out of the bed, using his knee as support as you kneel in front of him.
His hand came down to gently hold your face, thumb caressing your cheek before pulling your bottom lip down, letting it bounce back into place as he pulled away. He gripped his length in his other hand, guiding it down to your pink lips, tracing them as he bit his own.
Opening your lips, you allow him to slowly enter your mouth, tongue swirling around the tip and doing circles along the bottom.
Your head bobs up and down as his fingers thread into your hair, a low moan escaping from your throat.
After a few moments, his grip tightens as he forcefully moves your head up and down on him as he pleases, a whiny groan falling from his pretty lips
"Don't have much to say now, do you mama? All choked up on my cock. Y'look so pretty takin' me down your throat."
Tears threaten to fall from your eyes, swallowing roughly around him as you try not to gag—he only grunts louder.
He presses your nose to his trimmed thatch of hair for a few seconds, roughly tugging on your hair to pull you completely off him, gasping breaths escaping from your abused mouth.
Staring down at you in admiration, he smiles at your heaving chest and water eyes staring back up at him “So perfect, doll.”
He pulls you back up, immediately pushing you back on his bed and attacking you with hot, open-mouthed kisses trailing from your stomach to your lips. He rubbed his throbbing length against your slick folds, not missing the way you gasped against his lips.
Without warning, his hips push forward, splitting you open and eliciting a loud moan from your lips.
Your walls immediately clench around him, hearing a strained grunt fall from his throat
“Fuck, mama. Won’t last if you keep that up.”
You don’t respond, words dying off in your throat as his hips meet yours with a quiet noise.
His arms wrap around your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer to him as his thrusts increase in speed and intensity.
Your words tumble out of your mouth like alphabet soup, stuttering and gasping and hiccuping instead of stringing together sentences.
“Not so smart now, hm? Can’t even form your words, poor dumb baby.” He mutters sinful nothings into your ear, pushing your thighs into your chest as his tip brushes against that spot.
A long whine escaped from you at the feeling, manicured nails digging into the skin of his back and tangling themselves in his chocolate locks, tugging.
The pain only encourages him to continue, busying himself with creating marks all along your chest and neck. He could listen to you desperate whines and moans all day, your delicious whimpers never failed to make his eyes roll to the back of his head.
A knot began to form in your stomach, and the world seemed to slow.
As you begin to tighten around him he slams his hips into yours at what seems like an impossible pace, tip kissing your cervix with each thrust.
“You gonna cum pretty girl? Tell me. Tell me what you need” He brings his thumb down to toy with your sensitive clit, watching with a smirk as you struggle with your words.
“G-gonna, mm-fuck! Gonna cum, Matt! P-please let me cum!” You cry out head falling against his plush, silk-covered pillow case as you urged yourself to hold it in.
His thrusts become uncoordinated, showing he was nearing his climax.
“Did-fuck, did so well. Cum for me, mama, let it all out” He serenades you with his strained voice, grunts threatening to become whimpers.
The knot inside you snapped, causing you to yell out in a moan that definitely upset both Nick and Chris and the neighbors.
You saw white as you release all over his cock, legs trembling with your orgasm against Matt’s hold.
He fucks you through your release, afterwards thrusting once, twice, three times, before pulling out and shooting white, hot lines across your abdomen, hushed moans falling from his pink lips.
You feel a few kisses being placed on the sides of your face and forehead, along with Matt’s heaving chest pressing against yours.
“You did so good, baby. Did I go too hard?” He asks concerned, brushing stray hairs out of your face and tracing your jawline carefully.
Shaking your head, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down onto you “no, made me feel so good.” He smiles at the tired, fucked out voice you sported.
As much as he wished to stay in that position forever, he lifted himself off of you, despite your protests.
“Just gotta get you cleaned up, mama. Then we can lay here ‘till the sun burns out.” He said while picking up a random shirt and wiping you and himself off.
After taking care of you and making sure you both were comfortable and clean, he crawled under his warm comforter with you and attached himself to you, nuzzling his head into your neck.
Scrolling on his phone, he clicked on his unread messages.
Chris
Y’all are nasty
12:57 am
Nick
Go to a hotel next time cause what the fuck.
1:12 am
668 notes · View notes
caesium-55 · 16 days
Text
—everything is orange. [ iv ]
pairing: lando norris x kpop idol! reader
summary: a racecar driver who needed a fake girlfriend to dispel rumors and a kpop idol who needed publicity for her song. somewhere in between orange cars and orange sunsets, stands something they're afraid of naming.
note: omg im so sorry for not being online lately. i got a writing part time job now so... i may not be as active as before. hope yall are having a great day! not edited. not beta read.
masterlist.
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Everything inside your studio is gray. The walls, the couch, the floor, the instruments. It's the kind of room that will make a sad beige mom over the moon.
But when you open the door and the sight of one Lando Norris greets you, looking devilishly handsome in his dark blue button up shirt and black pants and Nike sneakers with his curls concealed underneath his dark blue bucket hat, the studio suddenly doesn't feel as gray as it usually is.
“Lando?” Your brows rise towards your hairline. Truthfully, he’s one of the last people you expected to see inside HAN Ent’s building, much less outside your studio.
“Hi,” he smiles charmingly at the shock in your voice, showing all teeth and smile lines. “Do you mind if I come in?”
You stammer, still not over your shock, “S-Sure.”
You step aside to grant him space and allow him to enter your magic shop. Lando’s eyes curiously roam around the studio and you close the door behind him, nudging the houseplant further to the wall using your foot to avoid getting tripped on it in the future.
“Take a seat. Please,” you invite, gesturing towards the couch. Lando takes the invitation and sits down. He looks too big on the couch, you note. He has long legs and an athletic build. Perhaps, it’s time to buy a bigger one.
“Nice place,” he compliments.
You want to snort out loud but refrain yourself from doing so.
Lando is saying things out of politeness.
Your studio is shit.
You know that.
It used to be a stock room that was converted into a studio when Yoon PD-nim offered you that deal, that's why the room is graciously small. They soundproofed the walls, painted everything gray, shoved in a few pieces of recording equipment and called it a day.
It's still quite nice of Lando to compliment the place though. You might hate this place but this is your wizard’s tower, your witch’s hut, your magic shop, and you feel pride swell in your chest when someone thinks your little corner is cool, even if you think he’s lying.
“Thanks,” you say sincerely. “How did you know I was…”
“I asked Jinnie,” he says simply.
“Ah,” your tone falls flat.
A moment's pause.
“So this is where you’ve been working?”
You nod. Suddenly, you feel conscious.
Your studio isn't really in the best state right now. When you work in a creative fever, you tend to make a mess. Being messy enhances your creativity. The sprawled papers with lyrics, the empty styro cups of coffee lying around, numerous pens and pencils (you don't even know why you feel the need to bring a lot of them) and rubber erasers, and your snacks. There's a mountain of crumpled paper in your trash can.
“Sorry, the place isn't really….” you trail off, making vague gestures with your hand. “I didn't know you were coming.”
“It's okay,” he chuckles. “I called, you know. And texted. You didn’t return any of it.”
“Oh, my phone’s charging,” you say, beginning to feel bad that you accidentally ignored him. “And my notifs are silent.”
“That explains it.”
“Shouldn't you be resting?” you asked. “You have a flight tomorrow.”
It's currently the 19th. Lando is set to leave for Japan on the 20th. His team wants him in Suzuka by September 20 and not later than that. They already had a field day when Lando announced that he's flying with you. At first, he wanted it to be just you and him. His team wouldn't let him because he can be a PR nightmare if given enough freedom so they let his manager, Kyla, tag along.
You’ve mistaken Kyla as a member of the PR team. Turns out she’s his manager.
“Is it a sin to want to spend a few hours with my girlfriend before I go?” he flutters his eyes innocently. You snorted.
“Fake but okay.”
“I’m being sincere here, girlfriend,” he pushes his lips into a pout. “Did you eat already?”
“No,” you answer.
“Should we grab something together?”
“Should we?” you humor his suggestion. It's been a few hours since you’ve eaten. You’ve skipped both breakfast and lunch.
“I think I can call a restaurant and make a reservation.”
“It's near midnight,” you point out, glancing down at the Rolex decorating his wrist. Isn't he aware of how late it is?
“So?”
“Restaurants are closed by now,” you state.
Lando shrugs.
“I can make the effort of finding those seafood pasta you like.”
Your brows furrow.
“What do you mean like? I never said I like those.”
“But I thought…” Lando blinks. “I’ve read it somewhere…”
“Huh?”
“You're from Jeju, right? You grew up eating seafood so you like seafood and you once said you have a palate for Italian food. I tried…liking the pasta with seafood. I hated it but I ate it anyway.”
Your jaw hangs open at the revelation.
This is single-handedly the sweetest thing someone has ever done to you.
You don't know whether to be touched about the sincerity or to cry because of his idiocy. You can definitely do both but you refuse to do both. You have an image to maintain.
“Didn't I tell you that the company manipulated my public information?” you ask incredulously. “Yes, I was from Jeju but I didn’t eat seafood much. I have a mild allergy—”
“In seafood?” you see his eyes widen into saucers. Oops, you shouldn't have said that. “Wait, you had an allergy attack, didn't you? On those lunch dates we had? Why didn't you tell me so early on?”
“I thought you liked it!” your voice raises slightly, panicked. You're caught. He isn't supposed to know about this.
“I didn't?! I loathe seafood but I ate a few bites because I thought you liked it!”
You blink at him. That is the sweetest while simultaneously the most stupid thing someone has ever done for you. You drag a hand across your face, a groan escaping your mouth and yet you’re smiling. You shake your head at him.
Points for Lando Norris for making you capable of feeling frustrated and another feeling you cannot name.
“We’re idiots.”
There is a stretch of silence before Lando speaks up.
“What do you want to eat? And please tell me the real one.”
You began listing the first three things that appeared inside your brain, “I like…. ramyeon, natto, and tteokbokki.”
You have a palate for convenience store food. Food that you can find in busy night markets. Food that is sold by street vendors. The kind of food that tastes like absolute shit if cold but tastes like home if microwaved into the right amount of temperature. If you venture in your imagination hard enough, you can taste your mother’s cooking after a few bites. But you don't tell Lando that.
“We can eat that.”
You raise a brow.
“The ramen, the chicken, and the tteokdokdok.”
“Tteokbokki,” you correct him gently.
“Tteoktokki,” he repeats.
“Tteok.”
“Tteok.”
“Bokki.”
“Bokki.”
“Tteokbokki.”
“Tteokdokki.”
You shake your head, “Tteok-Bo-Kki.”
“Tteok-Bo-Kki.”
You snap your fingers, nodding in approval, “Better.”
“I literally said the same thing.”
“You didn't.”
“Where will we eat this tteokbokki?” He says the tteokbokki slowly, careful with his pronunciation.
“There are night markets nearby,” you tell him. “It’s crowded though. I know a good convenience store that’s a good drive away. It’s usually empty. Do you go to convenience stores?”
You suddenly feel stupid for asking.
Do multi-millionaires like Lando Norris go to convenience stores? It’ll make much more sense if he books restaurants or employs a private chef to cook for him at home. Do they even have a palate for instant food? What do rich people snack on? You don't know. You're not rich. Even after becoming famous, you’re still not rich enough to live the life of luxury.
This just highlights the difference of the worlds you and Lando live in.
“I do. Just not frequently,” he shrugs. “We can go to the convenience store if you want. I don't mind.”
“No, it’s fine. We can eat anywhere you want. Jinnie might have a few hotel restaurants in mind.”
“But do you want to eat in hotel restaurants?”
His question makes you pause and Lando immediately takes your hesitation as a no.
“We can eat anything you want to eat. This is your place anyway. Show me around.”
You bite your lower lip as you contemplate. Should you or should you not? That is the question.
When your eyes drag themselves back to Lando’s face, you see that he’s already looking at you intently as he awaits your answer patiently. You want to shrink back at the intensity of his gaze.
“Well then, do you want to go on a convenience store date with me, boyfriend?”
Despite the hesitation he’s displayed earlier, Lando grins at your offer.
You take Lando to your favorite place in all of South Korea. Google Maps says it's a three hour drive away. You arrive there in two hours and a half.
Maybe it's a sign to change careers.
You used your Jeep Wrangler. Lando offered to drive but you shook your head and hopped on the driver’s seat, him taking the passenger seat.
You won't allow anyone to drive your car. It's a rule of yours.
The last time you allowed someone to drive your car, your Hyundai jumped over a sewage canal. Lando might be a professional race car driver and that alone spoke multitudes of his driving skills, but you're so traumatized with the incident with your Hyundai that you physically can't allow anyone, professional driver or not, to handle the steering wheel of any other cars you own.
Cars are expensive. You can't buy another car. You’ll bawl when you see the money departing your bank account.
You palm the steering-wheel with your right hand. Your left hand lays flat on the back of the passenger seat, behind Lando’s head. Your upper body is rotated towards the back, full focus activated as you reverse the car in expert ease. Lando is observing you, you can tell. You can feel his eyes burning holes in your side profile.
“You okay?” You ask Lando. The man has gone uncharacteristically silent when you’ve started reversing the car. You hear Lando let out a breath. Almost shakily. You cannot tell for sure.
“Yeah,” his voice breaks like a boy undergoing puberty and you have to thin your lips into a line to prevent yourself from laughing. “Nice parking skills.”
“Thanks,” you say nonchalantly. “You sure you're okay though?”
“Yeah, don’t worry,” you see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he rubs his throat. “I think the seatbelt’s a little too tight.”
Once the car’s perfectly parked, you kill the engine and exit the car. Lando follows suit.
“I don't know why you have to drive for almost three hours just to visit this place,” Lando gestures to the surroundings. “There's nothing here.”
“Exactly,” you say. “Come on, boyfriend.”
You pat his shoulder and lead the way. A bell chimes loudly as you push the door open. You step inside, the British racer only a few steps behind you. You tug down your mask.
“What's this place?” Lando questions.
“24-hour convenience store,” you answer. “But no staff.”
“No staff?” he asks. “So self service?”
“Ah yes, that’s the word. Self service,” You say. “Quite nice, right? We have complete privacy and good food. Two best things in the world.”
“Careful. Your introvert is showing.”
You snort, “First time coming to a place like this?”
“Yeah,” he shrugs. “No staff? Does nobody attempt to steal things?”
You shrug, “Probably not. Ramen is not worth going to jail for.”
“This shop will make a million dollar loss in an hour if it's in another country,” Lando says, his nose wrinkling. “Like in the UK or US or something.”
You beckon Lando to follow you through the aisles, “This way.”
“You even memorize the places of things,” he comments. “You come here often?”
You hum a yes. You stop in front of the freezer and open it, pulling out two plastic cups.
Lando’s forehead creases, “Just ice?”
“This is an ice cup,” you explain.
“Are we going to wait for the ice to melt before drinking it or….”
You stare at him incredulously before promptly bursting out in laughter.
“What's funny?” he asks, genuinely confused.
“Nothing, sorry,” you clear your throat. You don't know why you find that funny. Your humor is broken. “They sell pouches of juice or coffee and you pour it into the cup.”
Lando’s head tilts. He looks like a confused baby owl.
“Here, I’ll show you,” you walk up to a nearby shelf and grab a Kuromi pouch. It's peach-flavored. “This. You pour it here.”
You gesture to the ice cup. Lando’s mouth forms a circle in realization.
“Cool.”
“There are a lot of flavors,” you add, gesturing to the shelf. “Peach, apple, mango, strawberry, orange…”
You read out the flavors for Lando because you know he can't read Hangul. Lando wordlessly picks a grapefruit-flavored pouch. You nod.
“Good choice. Oh wait, we forgot to get a basket. Can you?”
Lando nods and leaves. When he comes back, now with a yellow basket, the two of you continue to browse down the entire store. You explain each of the food. He said no to most of them. Lando is a picky eater, you learn.
The two of you fill the basket near to the brim. You pay for each item, even though Lando insisted that he do it, and you occupy the table that faces that floor-to-ceiling glass window, overlooking the darkness of the night outside.
“Here,” you hand him a plastic fork. Lando accepts it, his brows furrowed. “You were struggling with the chopsticks.”
A shy smile makes its way to his face, “Sorry.”
You wave your hand as if to say it's no problem and plop down on the chair beside him. Lando digs in with his Buldak Samyang carbonara while you stir your Yoppoki Tteokbokki with yours before taking your first bite. You immediately let out a moan of pleasure.
“Is it delicious?” he asked.
“Very.”
You eat until your cheeks fill, chewing slowly.
“Oh wait, you should post something.”
“Now?”
“You took pictures of me earlier, right?” you know he did. He tried to be slick about it but you’d know if someone is taking a picture of you. “Put it on your story.”
“And delete it?”
“No. The world already knows we're dating anyway. Well, fake dating.”
Lando pulls out his phone and shows you the pictures in his gallery. There are aare a total of four pictures. Three are blurry. The other one is blocked by his finger.
“That one is good.”
“What do you mean good? It's blurry.”
“Blurry is an aesthetic.”
Lando shakes his head but opens his Instagram and begins to edit the photo you’ve chosen, “Help me with the caption?”
“I’m not good with them.”
“Me neither.”
“Your first caption was pretty good.”
“You think so?” he sounds hopeful.
You shrug your shoulders.
“Just say something like ‘her’ then put a period.”
That's the limit of your creative powers for the day.
Lando nods and begins typing. He’s typing quite long for a word with three letters and a single punctuation mark. He shows you the caption.
Your brows furrow.
He laughs, “I’m funny.”
“You’re really not,” you shake your head. “Put it in your drafts.”
“So I’m not posting it now?”
“You post it after we leave the place,” you say. “So we’ll be gone by the time the fans see it and decide they’ll come here.”
“That's very smart.”
“That's not being smart. That’s just common sense,” you state flatly.
“You know, I always thought you'd be a cold person.”
You raise a brow, not entirely sure if you're understanding him correctly. Cold is an adjective. It's used to describe temperature. You're uncertain if it can be applied to use as an adjective to describe a person.
Lando must have sensed your confusion that he adds, “Ice queen.”
Oh.
Yeah.
Okay. You understand it now.
“You used to look so cold and cool,” Lando says. “Ice queen. But also an IDGAF attitude. Very intimidating.”
You have no idea what IDGAF means but you nod your head and act like you understand him anyway. You make a mental note to search it up on the internet later.
“But you’re not.”
“I’m not,” you echo.
“You’re actually pretty sweet,” he adds.
“I’m trying to be kind.”
“You don't have to try. You already are.”
“The companies make us act sometimes.”
“What?”
“Like, before debut,” you begin. “There are companies that assign certain images to their idols. They give them parts to play like directors do to actors in movies. Like, oh, you look like this kind of person so you have to act like this kind of person. They take a look at your visuals and decide what role you’ll have. They took one look at my face and told me that I have to be a strict and serious person who is scary and cold and unbothered. I didn't want to do it because I tend to smile really easily before and I just wanted to have a lot of friends, you know?”
You shrug your shoulders.
“When you’re intimidating, you tend to not have a lot of them. Despite that, I followed the role. Many praised me for it and others just….well, they didn't like it. The company was happy, though. They told me I was good at acting. But it's just…sad that the person I am on the screen is not real.”
“Yeah, that's honestly sad. I can't imagine doing that for my team. I’ll suck at it. Imagine me cold and serious,” Lando makes a serious face but he ends up doing a The Rock Smoulder. You have to stop yourself from laughing out loud by thinning your lips and twisting it.
“You're doing it, though. For the team. This whole fake dating thing,” you gesture to yourselves.
Lando mutters something under his breath while stroking his chin. You don't catch it.
“Hm?”
“Nothing. I think your eyes are pretty.”
He's changing the subject. He does it so swiftly, too.
“I know, I thank my mother every day for it,” you joke and Lando chuckles softly. “But don't be jealous, you have pretty eyes yourself.”
He turns into a lovely shade of pink. You can see it. You don't speak of it.
“It changes colors sometimes,” you continue, pointing at your eyes. “Like, it’s kind of gray in the dark. But if the sun shines on it, it has three colors.”
“You stare at my eyes a lot, do you?”
“Well, if a certain thing is pretty, you can't help but stare, you know?”
“Yeah, I guess that's why I stare at you a lot, too.”
You laugh, the sound airy, shaking your head. What a flirt. The cute kind.
“I’m quite the head turner, aren't I?”
“You are,” he agrees seriously.
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
He smirks, confident.
“Careful, you might fall for me, fake girlfriend,” he says cheekily. You have the desire to shatter his ego so you did.
“You're handsome but you're not my type.”
His smirk falters. You give a chortle.
“What's your type then?” he asks, leaning slightly forward. His eyes reflect anticipation.
You fall into a momentary thoughtful silence, “For starters, attractive men who can drive very fast cars. With a racing license this time. Not like me.”
Lando smiles at your light attempt at a joke. Good to know that he finds the dark humor surrounding your career-ending scandal funny.
“I am an attractive man,” he gestures to his face. “With a priceless face and I drive a very fast car. Formula one or sports cars. Oh and would you look at that? I have a racing license and a regular driving license.”
“You are an attractive man,” you agree. “But again, not my type.”
Lando dramatically puts his hand against his chest, right above where his heart lies and acts like you just shot him dead on the spot.
“Hmm, what else? Ah, plays golf,” you list another trait of your ideal man.
“I play golf,” he crosses his arms, leans back against the back of his seat, and lifts his hips a little as he adjusts his sitting position on the chair, manspreading a little. This is one of the subtle things men do that women cannot help but find attractive. You’re also a woman. Of course, you find that attractive.
You roll your eyes, feigning annoyance. Lando laughs at you.
“A few years older than me.”
When Lando opens his mouth, you cut him off, holding up a finger, “I’m older than you.”
By months only but still.
“In the standards of your fake birthday, I am older than you.”
You huff, shaking your head. He is right, to some degree. The world thinks he is older than you because HAN Entertainment decided to lie about your birthday.
“Looks good in red.”
“You know, orange is a mixture of red and yellow. Technically, it's still red. So I look good in red. One plus one equals two. I am connecting shit.”
He raises two index fingers in the air and connects them together to put further emphasis on the words he imparted in a sage-like manner.
“You're not connecting anything.”
“Hell yeah, I am. I am so smart, I should just be McLaren’s chief strategist. Maybe then I can finally get my first win.”
You cannot help but raise an amused brow.
“Fine, if you're so smart Mr. Strategist, what's plan A to your victory?”
His answer comes immediately, no hesitation and he utters it with so much confidence in his chest: “Sneak into Red Bull and steal their car.”
You abruptly burst out laughing, the sound filling up the entire convenience store. You cannot hold it in anymore. You have to slap a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself down.
You don't laugh pretty. You're very much aware of that. You sound like a dolphin when you do. But Lando is so funny that you forget to feel conscious of the weird sound that leaves your mouth for a whole five seconds before you remember to compose yourself and stop.
“You don't have to cover your mouth when you laugh, you know?” he says. “Or try to stop yourself from laughing. Just laugh if you want.”
You give him a look. Why is he turning serious all of a sudden?
“Wait, red?” Lando does a double take once you’ve composed yourself. “Don’t tell me your ideal type is….”
His forehead creases. You nod.
He says, “Carlos?!” the same time you say, “It’s Kim Mingyu.” How did he even come to that conclusion?
Oh wait. Red. Older than you. Drives fast cars. Racing license. Makes sense.
You blink at each other.
“Who the hell is Kim Mingyu?”
“You don't know Kim Mingyu?” you pull out your phone, open Google Photos, and search for the folder named: 민규❤️❤️❤️. The folder contains 7659 photos of Kim Mingyu.
“Fake boyfriend, let me introduce you to my boyfriend, Kim Mingyu,” you show your favorite Mingyu photo.
The one where he’s wearing a black fitted shirt, his cheek against the back of his hand, and the veins in his arms bulging. He’s serving major boyfriend vibes.
Lando rolls his eyes.
“He doesn’t look that good.”
“No, Lando, you are not seeing it,” you hold the phone closer to his face.
“I am seeing it and I am saying he’s not good looking.”
“Lies.”
“I'm not lying.”
“It's Kim Mingyu.”
“And?”
You pull a face, retracting your phone. “Come on, he’s quite good looking. And tall. Very tall.”
You once have to stand beside him in an ending ceremony in Inkigayo. You barely even come up to his chest.
“I’m tall.”
“You’re shorter than him.”
“You're killing me here.”
You chuckle. You pat his shoulder in faux sympathy.
“There, there. That's okay. You're my boyfriend anyway. Don't be jealous.”
“Damn right, I am.”
You snort.
“But you have to stan Seventeen though. After your race in Suzuka, we’ll try to binge GoSe.”
When you’re too full to finish the rest of your tteokbokki, you drag Lando outside the convenience store.
“Sand?” he questions.
“Sand,” you state.
“There's sand in my shoes,” Lando complains.
“Take it off and like,” you make the motion of flipping your shoes upside down to remove the sand inside. He does as you’ve told him but he seems to be not fully satisfied with it. There is still sand inside his shoe.
“This won't do,” he says. “I should have brought flip flops.”
“Let's go barefoot,” you kick off your shoes and neatly place them on the foot of a nearby coconut tree. You motion for Lando to do the same, but you’re met with hesitance.
“What if someone steals them?”
It's a valid concern to have, you suppose. You look around you. Darkness is all that can be perceived.
“Who’d steal them? Cheonyeogwisin?”
“I don't even know what that is.”
“Just leave the shoes here, Lando.”
The sand feels good underneath your feet. A bit ticklish. A little too familiar. You turn on the flashlight of your phone and jog up to the shore.
“Wait for me!” you hear Lando scream from behind you.
“Palli!” you yell back, voice almost drowning in the wind.
“I am palli-ing!”
You roll your pants up to your knees and soak your feet in the cold waves, shivering. You turn around just as Lando body slams you and the two of you fall into the ice-cold waves. Your jaw comes slack, eyes wide. The two of you are now drenched from head to toe.
Lando bashfully smiles, “Sorry.”
“Lando!” you splash him in his face.
Lively shrieks fill the silent night sky. The stars twinkle with mirth at the two of you, the line between fake and real blurring.
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Lando flies out just four hours after you arrive in Seoul proper. You feel bad for bringing him somewhere far and not giving him enough hours to rest. Then, he tells you: "It's one of the best nights I've ever had."
He sounds so sincere that you have to stop yourself from blushing red.
In the schedule Jinnie gave you, you are only required to make an appearance in the race proper on the 24th. You have the 20th, 21st, and 22nd to work on your single before having to fly out on the 23rd. Regardless, you fly to Japan on the 21st with Jinnie in tow, two days earlier than your original schedule.
Jinnie doesn't question nor protest against your obvious disobedience on the appointed schedule. You're glad she didn't.
"Lando?" you question after seeing the man standing behind your hotel door. It's nearly twelve and you've just checked in the hotel with Jinnie. "What are you..."
"Just checking in," he smiles. "Do you mind if I come in?"
"Don't you have a race tomorrow?" Despite your question, you sidestep to let him inside your hotel room. "You should be resting."
"That's okay. I'm well rested. Are you going to watch the FP1 tomorrow?"
You shake your head, "I'm going to work on my song."
"Oh," his face falls. "Why'd you fly in early then?"
You shrug.
Honestly, you don't know either.
It's an act based purely on impulse. Not your finest moments.
"Maybe I can watch?" you say. "I'm not really sure."
You don't want to get mobbed again.
ORACLE has a rather large fanbase in Japan. You know there will be curious fans who'll await your appearance in the race. And while you're glad that your PR relationship with Lando is receiving the right type of attention from the public, you still hate having this much attention on you.
"You don't have to if you don't want to," Lando says.
"I'll go," you decide with finality. "I mean this is why we're doing this in the first place, right? Make people believe that we're real."
Lando's lips form a line.
"I suppose."
"Then, I'll be there."
The song making can wait.
Once again, Jinnie takes charge in deciding your clothing. You’ve long since given up on protesting or even suggesting your ideas. You have to get used to it again. Wearing whatever is given to you like a doll. After all, you are to return to the stage of KPop again.
Today’s WAG OOTD is a Miu Miu black dress, a black leather jacket, and Gianvito Rossi strappy sandals. Nothing too impressive. It's just the free practice sessions after all.
Jinnie hands you the McLaren ball cap and you grimace.
“How's the song coming up?”
“I’ve been trying to combine my demos and see how it sounds,” you reply. “But I have a concept in mind and I jotted down a few phrases for the lyrics.”
“I got an email from Yoon PD-nim today. He’s strongly suggesting you use a racing concept for your single.”
Strongly suggesting.
Translation: commanding.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Fuck it.
He’s really going to use the scandal and hope it’ll make you rise from the ashes like a phoenix reborn. The problem is that you're far from a phoenix. You’re human. As disappointing that may be but that is the cold truth. You're uncertain how people will react if you use a racing concept. You cannot afford to risk this over something like this.
You have one chance. And if KNetz reacts badly on your song and your MV, you’re never going to have another chance to go back on stage, to go back home.
Yoon PD-nim is too thoughtless at times. You want to shake him.
Jinnie drives you to the paddock and drops you to the parking lot. You expect that you’ll have to find your way to the garage again alone. Your knees are trembling as you step out of the car.
To your surprise, a staff member of the McLaren team—you assume he works for the team because of the orange polo shirt—approaches you as you exit the car.
“[Name]?”
“Hi,” you offer a polite smile.
“I’m Rick, I’m one of Lando’s mechanics, pleasure to meet you,” he introduces.
“Pleasure is all mine, Sir,” you say, dipping your chin into a small bow.
“Come this way,” he beckons. You follow him.
“Did Lando ask you to pick me up?”
“Well, he insisted on picking you up but the race was about to start so we had to force him to stay put in the livery and he wouldn't stay put until we said we’ll pick you up. Said people might flock over you and you don't like it when it happens.”
Your heart warms.
“That's very thoughtful of him. And sweet.”
“That's Lando Norris for you,” he says. “He’s always treating all the people he’s working with kindly. He only has to be polite but he even exerts effort in helping and making our work easier.”
“That's true,” you agree. “I can attest to that, as his fake girlfriend. He only has to treat me well when there's a camera but he’s even going as far as offering friendship.”
The rest of the walk to McLaren was peaceful. Or at least as peaceful as you hope it can be.
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brodieland · 1 month
Text
.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 10 Things I hate about you ´ˎ˗
Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader Synopsis: Percy starts trying to make his move on Y/N, but she just won't budge!! Warning(s): swearing Word Count: 1902
╰➤ MASTERLIST pt2
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"That's actually the new rule? God Silena must hate you," Piper joked.
"You wouldn't even imagine, she's so dramatic. And her taste in boys isn't any better," you shook your head. You were both walking to get some water, absolutely dehydrated from soccer.
"Makes me glad I like girls," you both laughed. As practice neared it's end, Piper was heading towards her dad's car to go home. You made your way over to the bleachers where your bags sat and grabbed them before heading back to your car. When you sat down, you got a text from Silena,
'can u get some McDonalds on ur way back'
'no' 'sike im going now'
You pulled into the parking lot seeing the drive-thru line was too long to wait. You walked up to an empty kiosk, to tired to interact with anyone, and ordered your food.
"You go to AHS right," a guys voice you didn't recognize asked from behind you.
"I don't know, what does my uniform say?"
"That you're a soccer kid. You sure your any good?"
You sighed as you turned to face the mysterious boy behind you. He was taller than average with messy black hair. He had a hoodie with some sweats on. "Soccer balls aren't the only kind of balls I can kick the life out of, so can you fuck off?"
"Woah, feisty one aren't you?"
"By feisty would you maybe mean iconoclast, orrr?"
"Maybe more intractable," you raised your eyebrows.
"Wow, big words huh," You went to turn back and finish ordering. Percy took the chance to walk over, leaning on the machine whilst facing you.
"What? Did you think I was stupid?"
You internally groaned, why was he still here? "You definitely have the look. Now, do you mind?"
He was standing in front of the machine to pay, "Oh, never."
He had a shit eating grin as he pulled his phone and paid. "Hey! I didn't ask you to do that."
"Call it my treat," he smiled.
"No I'm paying you back, I think I have cash in my bag," you went rummaging through your bag to find absolutely no cash. "Apple Pay?"
"Hey, are you asking for my number? That's really sweet," it feels like an aneurysm just burst from the annoyance this conversation has left you with.
"Nevermind fuck you I'm not paying you back," you spat back.
"Meaning now you owe me," Percy said. Deep breathes.
"I don't owe you shit, its not like I asked you to pay."
"Yeah yeah, potato potato," Percy made his way towards the door. "See ya around, I'll figure out how you can return the favor."
You might just have to air out the McDonalds. You sighed and waited for five minutes as they called out for your order. When you grabbed the food you made your way home, eating Silena's fries on the way back. Dad was working late at the hospital so it was just you two.
"Have I ever told you your my favorite sister?"
"No not as of late," you put the bags of food on the table and started chowing down. "You literally haven't spoken to me in two days. Be glad I'm so nice."
"Well nice is a really strong word," you glared at her. "If you really wanted to be nice, then you'd-"
"No."
"You don't even know what I'm gonna say."
"Fine, what?"
"You'd go on a date so I can go on a date-"
"No," Silena grunted loudly.
"Why do you insist on keeping me captive in this home. I wanna enjoy my teenage years you know."
"You not missing out on much. The guys here are lame, including your oh so dreamy Lukey."
"He's literally amazing. Like have you seen him? His car?"
"Hard to miss. He's just so in your face, it makes me sick," you faked gagged.
"Haven't you ever wanted to live the perfect teenage life."
"Tried it. It sucked, not what it's caked out to be," you smiled as you started to clean up. Silena leaned back into her chair sighing, looking defeated. "You know, college is only two years away. I think you'll be fine until then."
"My life is so boring," she said as she walked up to her room. You could tell she was upset, but you weren't going to date some loser just so she could get tossed by Luke when he was bored. That was something he did a lot.
You went to do some homework at your desk while listening to some music. You saw your phone went off and went to check it, someone had texted you.
'I think I found a way for u to pay back the favor'
There's no way.
'how tf did u find my number'
'dw bout it??' 'why u gotta be nosy??'
'im blocking you'
'wait??'
'no??' 'fine wtf do u want'
'on Friday there's a party'
'no'
'alright I'll pick you up at 9'
'no you won't???'
He stopped answering after that. How on gods green grass did he find your number? You just ignored it, putting your phone on silent and getting back to your homework. Without realizing it, you fell asleep at your desk.
You woke up when you heard banging at the door, "Y/N!!"
You leaned up and stretched in your chair. Desk naps are absolute back killers holy. "What do you want?"
"Did you ever make it to your bed," Silena looked at you up and down.
"No, what time is it?"
"Time for you to hurry the hell up, we need to leave now," she said as she stormed out. You groaned as you stood up and walked over to your closet, grabbing some jeans and a hoodie before running down toward your car. "About time."
"I could just not drive you," you said as you both stepped in the car. You were just joking of course, she doesn't need to be asking Luke Castellan for a ride anyways.
You pulled in the parking lot, and before even coming to a full stop, you saw your sister jumping out and making her way to Mr. Convertible. BARF.
"Dude, I don't think the plans working," Charles said, sounding worried.
Leo sighed, "look we just need some time, Y/Ns not gonna just give in after like, a day."
Charles groaned as he stared at Silena and Luke flirting from a mere 50 feet away. The way her long hair flowed in the wind, the way her lip gloss shinned in the sun, he couldn't get enough. "Whatever, I have French tutoring with her later, we'll see how it goes."
"Not gonna lie this is kind of hard," Percy said from behind the two, making them jump.
"Jesus, you need a bell or something," Leo said with his hand on his heart, feeling it speed up.
Percy rolled his eyes, "Anyways, I think she blocked me, and all I did was pay for her food."
Charles just softly facepalmed. When he got his face out of his hands, he saw Luke walking towards them.
"Luke," Percy cheered while holding his arms out. Luke did not return the hug.
"Dude, I'm not paying you to get fucking aired. I need you to take her to the party this Friday. Not the one in 20 and a half years," Luke complained.
"Dude, its not like Y/Ns the easiest person to ask out around here," Leo chimed.
"Literally," Percy agreed. "Look, I invited her out to the party, just gimme a moment bro." "Plus, I'm gonna need a pay raise."
Luke laughed in his face, "Yeah no way."
"Then you can say goodbye to little ms Silena over there," Luke rolled his eyes as he pulled out his wallet, slapping a Benjamin into Percy's hand. "Love you too."
Luke just held up his middle finger as he walked off, "He's such an amazing ray of sunshine isn't he?"
Percy and Charles just stared at Leo, "What? Am I not allowed to be my funny and whimsical self?"
They both walked off without saying a word. Silena and Charles have their free period and use it to study on some French together.
"So how's operation 'get my impossible sister a date' going," Silena asked.
"Well, we have a guy, but she's just not going for him. We need some help here, what kind of guy does she go for?"
"The problem is she just DOESN'T," Charles gave her a look before she continued. "Not like that. I mean, she thinks guys like Logan Lerman and Dylan O'brian are pretty hot, so Percys probably her type."
"Okay so we got that right at least," he grumbled.
"I mean the reason she just shits on all the guys here is because she thinks of them all as 'misogynistic assholes of the patriarchy,' she rolled her eyes.
"So what, a guy who can shut the fuck up when needed or something," Silena laughed at Charles joked, and he sweared he started ascending.
"Yeah just maybe," she smiled.
"Silena, can I ask you something?"
"Whats up?"
"You know the party on Friday. Would you wanna go? I mean if Percy can convince your sister and all you know."
"Of course I want to go, which is why I really need Y/N to just man up," she paused. "or woman up, I guess."
﹒º. ౨ৎ
You sat back and doodled in your notebook in your English class. After spending most the class debating over sexist views in classic literature, you felt kind of annoyed. Its like no one cares these days, you know?
The bell rang and you walked over to your friend Hazel. "Honestly you should be like a lawyer or something, watching you arguing these boys is like music to my ears."
"You might be on to something, I love belittling them as it is. Imagine I got paid to do it," you laughed. When you walked out the class, you saw Hazel's boyfriend, Frank, waiting for her outside. You waved hello then paused when you saw Percy next to him.
"Oh look who it is," Percy exclaimed. You didn't even waste your breathe as you just turned and walked off towards your locker. Percy quickly rubbed his temples and ran after you. "Where ya going?"
"Anywhere," you said as you made it to your locker to grab your next books. Percy stood off to the side, leaning on the lockers. "What do you want now?"
"To take you out this Friday night," he smiled.
"I'd rather swallow 4 laxatives and a bowling ball and staple my ass cheeks together than be stuck in a room full of intoxicated teenagers," you slammed your locker shut and walked off.
Percy followed after you, "Don't you have the fun vocabulary!!"
"Extensive," you smirked.
"Look, it'll be fun."
"Doubtful."
"Do I need to ask in like, fucking greek or something," Percy pleaded.
"Maybe choose a language you actually know first."
"Μπορώ να μιλήσω ελληνικά μια χαρά," you looked at him wide-eyed. "Why must you continue to doubt me?"
"How do I know you didn't insult me?"
"I don't know, just trust me maybe," you shot up an eyebrow with an amused upside down smile on your face. "όπως είπα, θα είμαι εκεί στις εννιά εντάξει."
"No, to whatever you just said," you chuckled as you headed off to your next class.
﹒º. ౨ৎ
✰ Μπορώ να μιλήσω ελληνικά μια χαρά - I can speak Greek just fine ✰ όπως είπα, θα είμαι εκεί στις εννιά εντάξει - like i said i'll be there at nine ok?
✰Taglist: @liviessun (just lemme know if u wanna be added)
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rubyreduji · 9 months
Text
timeless — ljh
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summary: you’ve just met jihoon, yet something about him feels familiar
tags: fluff, romance, reincarnation?, gn!reader warnings: arranged marriages, mentions of death and war  reader notes: no pronouns or explicit gender descriptions but they do take a more feminine role in history, jihoon picks up the reader but my mans is strong okay don’t worry wc: 10.3k an: i’ve been writing this for over a month now fjdskla and i like the finished product but im a bit worried the format is choppy but either way please enjoy and show it lots of love...also happy first fic of the 2nd year of rubyreduji!!!
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“Soonyoung, stop it!” You scold your best friend as he giggles at you.
“Just go talk to him!” Soonyoung tells you, pushing you towards the door to the antique shop next to your favorite boba place. 
Him refers to the cute cashier you always see through the windows when you and Soonyoung go and get boba (which is about three times a week). It’s nothing more than a hallway crush but Soonyoung keeps insisting that it could be more than that if you would just go talk to him. 
You don’t actually want to talk to the boy who stands at the counter with a smile, but before you can stop him Soonyoung is opening the door to the store and forcing you inside. When you turn around to chew your best friend out, you find him not there, his back already retreating to the boba shop. 
A part of you wants to just dash back out the door but the bell attached to the door has already gotten the attention of the cashier and you can’t escape now.
“Welcome to The Eternity Emorpium, today anything marked with a green sticker is 20% off.” The voice isn’t what you expected Cute Cashier to sound like but when you turn around to face him, you realize you’re not talking to Cute Cashier at all.
Rather than the tall boy with glasses you’ve been peeking in on for the past few months, you come face to face with a short yet buff boy with long black hair. He most definitely is not the guy you came in for, but you have to admit he is just as (if not more) cute than the other cashier.
You’re not sure how you didn’t notice that your normal Cute Cashier wasn't behind the counter, but in your defense you were too busy fighting off Soonyoung.
You give the new cashier—who you have now dubbed Even Cuter Cashier—a smile, before pretending to look at all of the memorabilia set out. The actual shop is nice with an obvious theme and specific layout that only someone with an eye for aesthetic and organization could create. On the speakers a Bruno Mars song is playing and you wonder if it's the cashier who has control over the music or just a general store playlist.
You feel awkward walking around the shop, letting out fake hums every once in a while to make it seem like you're actually shopping and not just sneaking glances at Even Cuter Cashier whenever you can. You stop in front of a playing card deck and you pick it up, flipping it over in your hand a couple of times.
"Oh, we just got those in," Even Cuter Cashier says, startling you a bit. "Put them on the floor this morning. You into cards?"
"Oh, uh," Shit. This is your chance to talk to him, "yeah. My dad is more of a collector than I am, but I can see the appeal."
"Nice. Yeah I'm more of a guitar collector myself, but my wallet wishes I wasn't," he says and you both laugh.
"That's cool though. I would love to learn how to play an instrument but I definitely don't have the talent or patience for that." As you speak with the man you slowly start to drift towards the counter.
"Hey, anyone can be talented, it just takes practice." You quickly glance down at Even Cuter Cashier's name tag to see his actual name is Jihoon.
"Good inspirational quote, but I think I'll just stick to the playing cards," you tell him with a grin as you set the pack down in front of him.
Jihoon just pushes the cards back to you and when you give him a questioning look he just grins. "They’re on the house.”
“Oh no, you don’t have to do that,” you tell him.
“I wanted to,” he says. “Maybe it’s just my plan to get you to come in here again.”
You smile at Jihoon, your face starting to turn a bit hot. You pick up the pack of cards and bid goodbye to the cashier before turning and leaving. Soonyoung is standing outside the door with two boba cups in hand. He peeks in when you open the door and frowns.
“That’s not Cute Cashier.”
“Nope! That’s Even Cuter Cashier,” you tell your best friend.
“You’re abandoning the other guy already?”
“I can’t abandon someone I don’t even know,” you scoff, “and anyway, I think I like Even Cuter Cashier. Something about him…it feels like destiny.”
Soonyoung laughs at you, but you ignore him, your mind still lingering on the dark haired boy from earlier. The more you think about him, the more your heart starts to grow warm. You can’t place it, but something about Jihoon feels familiar, and you need more.
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1500s
“You are to be married to Prince Wonwoo before the solstice hits.”
Your head shoots up, staring at your father, not sure if you hear his words correctly. There’s no possible way he said that. You can think of a dozen reasons why that’s impossible, a few including: 1. You’ve never met Prince Wonwoo in your life, why would he want you as his betrothed? 2. You two did not have a courtship and it would be a scandal for you two to get married without presenting as a couple to the public first. 3. Your family is not nearly important enough to be noticed by royalty. 4. (And this is the biggest one) You are in love with someone else.
Well, your father doesn’t know that you’re in love with someone else, but it’s still an important fact to note.
Despite all of these reasons, your father continues to talk about the arrangement, not noticing the shock on your face. You wonder about how it came to be, and without you hearing even a whisper about it.
“You will be meeting with a royal advisor in two days, please do not cause any trouble.” With that your father walks ways, leaving you with a million questions brewing your mind.
The main one being: how are you going to tell Jihoon about this?
For over a year now you’ve been seeing the same man, sneaking out whenever you can to meet him. He came into town with a bang (quite literally — his caravan practically falling apart with all of his belongings crashing to the ground as it did) and you’ve been captivated by him since. 
Your days are never boring when Jihoon is around, the two of you either going on adventures or hanging out in Jihoon’s (new) caravan. Though, you think your most favorite times spent with Jihoon are late at night, when you two meet up on the outskirts of your estate grounds, right on the edge of the forest.
There never is any guessing as to what Jihoon has planned. Some days you two walk around the garden under the moonlight, talking and gazing up at the stars, while other nights you’re whisked off to another town to dance the night away in a hidden tavern. You love the guise of the night, being able to do whatever and be whoever without the fear of onlookers and their judgment. It’s just you and Jihoon in your own little world.
Maybe that’s why you’ve been keeping him a secret for so long, you like keeping him all to yourself. No one can taint your relationship if they don't know about it. Though you suppose that has backfired on you now.
You don’t see your father for the rest of the night and when the sunsets and you slip out the back door and walk down to the forest edge, you do it with a heavy heart. As always Jihoon is standing next to the tree he carved your initials in, a wide grin on his face and a bouquet of flowers in his hands.
As soon as he spots you approaching his face lights up in a grin. He trots up to you the rest of the way, scooping you up into a hug.
"I've missed you," he says, pressing kisses to your lips and cheeks. You giggle at his antics.
"You saw me two days ago, my dear."
"Oh but that's two days too long for an aching heart in love." 
Other people may think it's cheesy but you can't help but adore the sweet way Jihoon talks to you, always putting his poet background to good use. You smile as Jihoon holds you in his arms, but soon the good mood is ruined by the news you remember you have to break to him.
"What's wrong, my love?" Jihoon asks, seeing the fallen look on your face. He reaches up and pushes your hair out of your face, a habit he has picked up since you two met. 
You just sigh and shift so you're out of Jihoon's embrace. Automatically you miss his strong arms around your waist, but you can't bear to look at him as you talk.
“My father has given me away to another man,” you tell him in a hushed voice. 
“Who?” Jihoon responds automatically. “I won’t let him take you. I-I’ll fight.”
You finally turn towards Jihoon, the solemn look still firm on your face. “I’m betrothed to Prince Wonwoo.”
“Prince Wonwoo?!” Jihoon looks taken aback. You don’t blame him. Suddenly he deflates. “How am I going to beat that?”
You’re not sure how to respond. The truth is Jihoon can’t compete. That doesn’t mean you’re going to give up hope on him, though.
“We’ll…we’ll figure something out,” you finally say. You step closer to Jihoon, allowing him to wrap you up in his embrace once again.
“I’m not giving up on us,” Jihoon tells you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“We’ll be fine. We have to be.”
When your father told you you’d be meeting with a royal advisor, this isn’t exactly what you were expecting.
When you arrived at the castle you were amazed at the size of it, but you weren’t allowed to gawk for long, being ushered into a sitting room where two men were already conversing. Neither were your soon to be husband though and you wondered when you might actually get to meet the prince.
The two men soon introduced themselves as Soonyoung and Mingyu, two of Prince Wonwoo’s most trusted men. Now two hours later, you’re starting to question the judgment of your betrothed.
Not only are the men completely scatterbrained and disorganized, they also seem to bicker more often than not, making it difficult for you to understand everything they’re telling you. The only thing you really comprehend is that you’re going to be spending a lot more time with the two men up until the wedding.
You’re given a schedule at the end of the day, your upcoming weeks all planned out for you already. Meeting with wedding coordinators, royalty training, garment fittings, and everything else of the like. You frown, thinking about your normally free schedule has now been filled.
Luckily for you, the meeting finished earlier than expected and you don’t hesitate to direct yourself towards the area where Jihoon’s caravan resides. Your lover is delighted to see you but before he can get any words out you’re throwing yourself at him, pulling him into a kiss. You’re desperate to drown in Jihoon and forget reality even just for a moment.
It isn’t until later that you and Jihoon finally exchange words. 
“I can hear you thinking,” Jihoon says. You two lay next to each other on his bed, bare bodies pressed together under the linens. Your head rests on his chest and his hands card through your hair. “Was I not satisfactory in taking your thoughts away? What is troubling your mind so much?
“Prince Wonwoo.”
“You’re thinking about Prince Wonwoo after laying so intimately with me?”
“No! Well yes, but- I- shut up,” you grumble, smacking Jihoon’s chest, making his laugh.
You’ve never met the prince before, though you are well knowledged on him. It’s hard not to be when he is to take over the crown in a few years. You try not to think about how that will make you the queen consort.
You’ve only seen Prince Wonwoo in person a handful of times, none too recently, but you still know the prince is very handsome. Not as handsome as you find Jihoon, though you may be a bit biased. He’s also said to be kind, smart, level-headed, and well calculated. You suppose it could be worse. 
“I met with his advisors today,” you tell Jihoon. “I guess it’s just all hitting me. This really is going to happen.”
“Hey, listen to me,” Jihoon moves so he can stare at you in the face, “no matter what happens, I will always love you. My heart is still yours.”
“And mine yours,” you tell him softly. “I love you Lee Jihoon. Never forget that.”
You don’t see Jihoon for a while. Your schedule is packed with futile meetings that take up your day and with the news of your engagement to the prince (who you have still yet to meet), there are guards outside of your estate at night.
You suppose you are fortunate that Mingyu and Soonyoung have grown on you in the past few weeks. Though you still think them foolish, you also have a fondness for the pair. You see why Prince Wonwoo puts his trust in them. You find yourself wanting to confide in them, though there is one thing that still remains a secret.
It isn’t until the night before your wedding that you see your love. You are able to lose your guards for a second and you make a beeline straight to Jihoon’s caravan. He’s still awake, sitting outside and staring up at the starry sky when you approach.
“My dear,” you call out to him. Jihoon looks away from the sky to meet your face, a look of surprise flashes over his face before they form into a soft smile.
“You know you really shouldn’t be out so late at night, it is not safe.”
“Well then, why don’t you help me find some shelter kind sir,” you tell him. Jihoon just grins and grabs your hand, pulling you into his home. 
You two spent the night wrapped up in each other, exchanging soft kisses and even softer words. When the morning comes Jihoon is still asleep when you awake and while you’d love to give him a proper goodbye, you know you already pushed your luck enough spending the whole night out.
You quickly find a quill and some ink and you grab a piece of Jihoon’s writing parchment and scribble a quick note to him before slipping out the door. It’s only after the caravan is out of sight that you let your tears fall.
The first time you meet Prince Wonwoo is at the altar. Up close he’s even more handsome than you imagined, with soft facial features and kind eyes. You can’t help but still feel a bit disappointed, staring at the stranger in front of you as you recite your wedding vows.
The chapel where you are being wed is packed full of people, mostly nobility. Your attire is suffocating, despite being fitted for it thrice. Across from you, the prince keeps a neutral face and you wonder about his own involvement in this arrangement. 
He’s dressed in a formal outfit fit for royalty. The colors pair with your own dressings and you wonder what you two look like from the outfit. A newly bonded couple who will eventually be ruling the whole country. Are you two a handsome, strong presenting couple? Or do you two look like two fools who have never met before?
You were surprised at the way the public took the news of the engagement. You were expecting backlash against the prince, but he is well loved by the public and they were all happy to see the young man finding a partner to settle down with before stepping up to the throne. Despite never having been seen together in public before today, there was a wide talk of your (fake) courtship and how you must be very lucky to have the prince hold your heart.
If only they knew that a lonely, penniless poet was the real caretaker of your love.
It isn’t until the words leave the officiant’s mouth that you realize you will have to kiss the prince. Not only to end the ceremony but for the public to see you two unite as one. You must look as taken aback as you feel because your now husband takes the initiative, stepping forward to close the distance between you two.
Wonwoo cups your face gingerly, his hands are cold and his fingers are boney. He stares at you for a moment, dark eyes gazing into your soul, before he finally leans in.
The moment his lips press against yours you want to jerk out of his hold. It feels wrong. Your lips don’t fit together nicely and there’s no warmth exchanged between you two. You’re both stiff and you note how Wonwoo’s lips aren't as full as Jihoon’s. 
The kiss is over within seconds but the damage has been done and you can’t shake the dirty feeling that has grown under your skin. Wonwoo’s hand slides down your arm to clasp your fingers together. Another sign of unity for the public. You force a smile on your face, but the only thing you can think about is how your heart is miles away, in a small caravan on the edge of town.
My love,
I am not sure how you were able to convince the prince’s closest man to be a part of this, but I cannot say am I ungrateful for him. Though I do find him quite eccentric (and slightly obnoxious) I must give him my gratitude.
I miss you tremendously, but the past few letters you have sent me have been acting as bandages over my heart. I read them whenever I feel an ache of your absence, which is quite often.
It is unfortunate you find royal life boring. If I could, you know that I would sweep you off to the farthest lands where we would explore the area during the day and revel at night. I would show you the large world out there and we could experience new joys together. 
How I long to have you lay by my side at night. To feel your soft, tender skin against my fingertips. It pains me to even think about it, but it would kill me not to. 
I will never stop fighting for us.
Write back soon,
Your Jihoon
My darling,
I saw you today. I was taken quite off guard when I saw you riding in the carriage, next to Prince Wonwoo. I admit, you two make a handsome couple, but not more handsome than us.
It’s been so long since I’ve seen your beautiful face in person, that even seeing you with another man made my heart sing. I couldn’t pull my eyes from you, doing my best to soak in the sight of you because you were once again gone.
You looked quite winsome sitting in the carriage, but you did not look like you. Are you required to wear such extremities every day, or were you dressed for the occasion? Either way I cannot imagine the process of getting ready to be a swift one. 
If I am being honest I do not find the purpose of such efforts. Does the prince not find your natural beauty fit to his standards? If so then off with him. Any person with eyes would be fortunate to gaze upon you. I know I was.
Seeing you has only made me yearn more for you. I know it has only been a few weeks since your matrimony to Prince Wonwoo, but to me it has been lifetimes. How I crave to feel your touch, to hear your voice, to kiss your lips.
I know that the idea is futile but I will never give up on you. No matter what, I am still yours. And I hope you are still mine. Even if I only see a glimpse of you once every decade, my heart will still burn for you.
Forever yours,
Your Jihoon
To my heart,
Though you are always in my thoughts, you have been overtaking my mind more often than not lately. Please do not think I am upset about this, it is quite the opposite, but I am afraid I have been missing you a great deal more than usual.
Maybe it is due to a conversation I had the other day. I was at a tavern, catching up with an old acquaintance who was in town, and you came up. Jeonghan questioned if there was a reason why I had settled here and wondered if it was ‘due to my heart’. I laughed and confirmed his suspicions.
We spent a deal of time after that talking about you. It felt liberating being able to speak of you to someone else. I must have rambled on for at least an hour before Jeonghan finally cut me off, telling me how lucky I must be to have someone like you in my life. I had no choice other than to agree with him.
Speaking about you and thinking about you has thrown me into a tumultuous frame of mind. It is quite shameful how often I get lost in fantasies of us and what I wish we could be. You have overtaken my mind, body, and soul. There is not a single night where I do not dream of you.
I hope our future king can see how fortunate he is to be married to you. I would kill thousands of men to be in his position. Your smile itself is worth more than every jewel on his crown. I know I am just waxing poetic at you, but that is my job.
I know we must stay apart, but please mourn the future we could have had for me. Please write back to me with every thought you have about our imaginary future, because even if I cannot have the real thing, my dreams will be enough for me.
Dream of me as well,
Your Jihoon 
The life between you and your husband is…comfortable. You two talk, but not often and seldom about anything that is not shallow or mundane. You two sleep side by side at night but the last time you two touched each other was when you danced at your wedding and while his days are spent in meeting, yours are spent wandering the castle grounds and having tea with Soonyoung and Mingyu.
The only thing you find yourself looking forward to in your days anymore is the nightly lettering that you receive from Jihoon. It was only a week into the marriage when Soonyoung noticed how miserable you were. Without being able to hold it in anymore, you told the man about your lover and your heartbreak. It was then that Soonyoung suggested he help you out, acting as a carriage pigeon to deliver letters to and from Jihoon.
One night you are sitting at the desk in your shared chambers with Wonwoo, writing your letter for Jihoon, when Wonwoo speaks up. He is sitting on the bed across the room and his deep voice startles you, not used to talking to the man like this.
“Are you happy?” Wonwoo asks you bluntly, after calling out your name. You take only a moment to form an answer.
“I am content, my lord,” you tell him. Though you have stopped referring to the man as “Prince Wonwoo” in your mind, you cannot help but tack on the formal titles at the end of your sentences to the man.
“But you are not happy. Why?”
“Rest assured your highness, it is nothing you’ve done.”
“Does it have anything to do with the letters Soonyoung delivers to you each evening? The letters you are writing back right now?” You freeze in your seat. You were unaware he knew, but the prince is not ignorant. You suppose you couldn’t keep it a secret forever.
“I-”
“Do not mistake my curiosity for accusation. I’m aware this arrangement is not an ideal situation, and I would not be upset if there was another. I would not even be upset if you wish to be with him,” Wonwoo says. 
His words trouble you. There is a benefit for both of you in the marriage, but his words imply he is not exactly happy with the arrangement either. The offer to let you leave him is strange though, and causes you to fault for a moment.
“I am not going to abandon you, sire,” you eventually respond. “I have made an obligation to you.”
“No, your father did. Though we are not well acquainted I still hold empathy and I do not want to be what is keeping you from your happiness. From your happy ending.”
“Either way my father’s word is say, so I will do what he asks of me. It is an honor to be wedded to a man of your status,” you tell him, trying to convince yourself more than anything.
“But that is all it is: status. What about love?”
You don’t answer. You sit there and stare down at the letter you are writing to Jihoon. You think about the wooden box hidden in the drawer that holds his letters.
“Please, I do not wish to cause you turmoil. If you want to go, I will not hold you back,” Wonwoo says. 
You finally turn to look at your husband. “You are very kind-hearted, but I cannot accept that offer. I will not tarnish your reputation like that. Do you know the talk that would rise if they heard the soon-to-be king’s spouse up and left? What would your father do to mine? It is too risky.”
Wonwoo has a morose look on his face, like he knows you’re right. “Tell me about him,” he says, surprising you.
You hesitate. You should not talk of your lover to your husband. It is unorthodox and unbecoming. You look at Wonwoo’s curious face though, and you can’t help yourself.
“He’s a poet. I’ve never met someone who can use words the way he does. Even in things as simple as short letters or passing comments, he can make it sound like the most romantic sentence ever uttered,” you tell Wonwoo.
“Tell me more.”
“He has a kind soul, like you. He’s very exciting to be around. He used to travel the world, so I love to hear him regale the tales of his adventures. He likes to take me on our own little adventures as well. One time a traveling show came through a neighboring town and he got us tickets to go watch.”
“You love him greatly.” It is not a question. You just nod to Wonwoo. “You light up when you speak of him. In a way I’ve never seen before.”
You don’t know what to say to him, so you turn your back to him once more, resuming your letter to Jihoon.
You love Jihoon, everyday apart from him feels like you’re struggling to breathe, and under any other circumstance you wouldn’t have stopped at anything to be with him, but you are not under those circumstances. You fought your father, refusing the marriage, even telling him you loved someone else, but he did not listen. He told you this was the one thing he would put his foot down on.
You can’t blame him, how often does someone get the chance to marry a prince. The things this marriage is doing for your family is immeasurable and you cannot in good conscience leave them without a second thought. Not to mention the damage it would do to your family’s reputation, let alone Wonwoo’s. Your family would be shunned by the public and Wonwoo would be labeled a joke of a king.
Not to mention if it was ever discovered what really happened. What would happen if everyone found out why you left? You and Jihoon would surely be ostracized. Town piranhas in even towns in other kingdoms. Jihoon’s career as a poet would be over. You can’t imagine that being a happy life.
Not that you’re particularly happy right now either. You wish you didn’t overthink everything, or else you would have left the town even before you got married. You and Jihoon could be living in his caravan, just you two alone, safe and sound and happy.
It is too late for that though, and now you have to pay the consequences. Married to a man you know nothing about. A man who seems to be rooting for you despite the outcome. It makes you frown. Maybe your first step in figuring it all out is figuring out your husband first.
“Have you ever been in love, my lord?” You decide to ask Wonwoo one day while walking the castle’s grounds. As of recently you two have gotten closer, an interesting bond forming between you two, though most of your time is spent talking of Jihoon. Wonwoo never draws back on his suggestions that you follow your heart. 
“Not in the way you are. I was very fond of someone a long time ago, but they loved someone else.” You frown at this news. 
“Please excuse the crudeness of my words, sire, but then why do you put so much mind into my love? Do you not wish to be wed to someone?”
“I do,” Wonwoo answers after a moment of contemplation, “but I do not want to be the reason why true love is separated. You and your Jihoon, you are a story of fate. Who am I to get in the middle of it? The public likes me enough, I will be okay. No matter what, I will be okay, but will you?”
Your heart aches and yearns for Jihoon, and your husband is not making it easier. That may have been his goal though.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” You ask Wonwoo. You frown as you stand in front of him, your stomach in knots of worry.
Wonwoo just gives you a soft smile. “I am sure. If anything, I should be worrying about you. Do you have everything you need?”
“Yes. Both Soonyoung and I checked twice. You have ensured that everything will run perfectly.” You reach over and take your husband’s hands in yours, squeezing them tightly. “Thank you, Wonwoo. For everything.”
“Ah, it is the least I could do. Now, you have somewhere to be and I cannot keep you waiting any longer. Send me letters, okay?” With a final squeeze of your hands, Wonwoo lets you go. You smile at the man once more before turning away from him and not looking back.
You slip out of the castle through the servant’s doors and quickly make your way to the outskirts of the grounds. It reminds you of all those times you escaped your own house to meet Jihoon at the edge of the forest. The thought makes a grin grow on your face as you speed up your pace even more.
Just like all the previous times, when you get to the edge of the estate Jihoon is standing there waiting for you. You launch yourself into his arms, allowing him to pick you up and twirl you around. He’s giggling high pitched and gleeful as you two spin around in each other’s arms.
When Jihoon finally puts you down he doesn’t waste a moment and leans in to kiss you. You happily kiss him back, grabbing his face and holding him in place. You can feel a wet stream of tears run down your face, your heart bursting with joy as you reunite with your lover.
His lips are familiar against yours and you automatically feel at home. For the first time in months you can relax, finally back in Jihoon’s arms.
“It’s you,” Jihoon muttres when he finally pulls away. He brings his hands up to caress your face.
“It’s me, my love, it’s me,” you tell him back, tears still flowing freely.
“I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you more.” You lean in and press another quick kiss against Jihoon’s lips. “But we will never have to miss each other again.”
“I’m never letting you go,” Jihoon tells you, gripping you tighter. “Oh how much I love you.”
You giggle. “I love you more. Now come on, let’s get out of here.”
You grab Jihoon’s hand and pull him away from the grounds to where his caravan is waiting for you two. As you two travel further and further away from the town you feel your heart grow lighter and lighter, excited for the rest of your life of adventures with your love.
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The next time you see Jihoon is nearly a week later. You and Soonyoung are once again getting boba when you spot the boy behind the counter, just like last time. When you and Soonyoung went and got boba a few days prior you noticed that the original Cute Cashier was working, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit of disappointment at him not being Jihoon.
As soon as you lay eyes on your Even Cuter Cashier, you quickly make a beeline into the shop, your desire for boba long gone.
Jihoon looks up when he hears the sound of the bell ringing and his eyes soften into a smile when he sees you entering through the threshold.
“You came back!”
“I did. It’s hard not to, with the amazing service I got last time,” you say. You casually browse the store as you talk to Jihoon, glancing at him every so often as you do. 
“Well I’m glad that my plan to get you to come back succeeded.”
You giggle at Jihoon’s words as you stop in front of a stack of old photos. You flip through them, looking at all the memories they hold. Many of the photos depict different couples, all smiling brightly as they hold each other. The images put a smile on your own face.
“Find something good?” Jihoon asks and you jump a bit at the closeness of his voice. When you turn, you see the man standing by your side.
“Oh, yeah, just these photos! Aren’t they beautiful?” You tilt them a bit to show them off to Jihoon. “I think it’s so amazing that no matter how the world changes, love will always stay the same.”
“Huh, I guess you’re right. Love’s been around since the beginning of time.”
“The love these people were feeling in these photos is the same love we experience today. There really is nothing like it.”
You look back down at the photos. The one in your hand shows a woman clinging onto a man’s arm, her cheek pressed into his bicep as she smiles at the camera. The man himself is smiling as well, though he is smiling down at the woman, rather than the camera. 
“They’re cute,” Jihoon mumbles, his own eyes transfixed on the photo. 
“Yeah,” you say, “I wonder what’s their story.”
“Something happy, I hope,” Jihoon says before moving to walk back behind the counter. You grab a few more photos from the stack before following after him, placing them on the counter.
Jihoon smiles at you and starts to ring you up. You take a moment to stare at him, your eyes tracing over his fluffy hair and round face and kind smile. You don’t stop staring until Jihoon breaks your focus.
“What? Does my hair look stupid or something?” He grins lazily at you again and you feel your heartbeat quicken.
“Uh, n-no! It’s just…your smile is super familiar to me. Sorry, that may be weird.”
“No, no, it’s not. I guess I kinda felt the same thing the first time you came in,” Jihoon tells you. “Who knows, maybe we knew each other in a past life.”
You chuckle at Jihoon’s joke, but you don’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the day.
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1951
War Against North Korea Rages On, No End in Sight
You frown at the heading, throwing the newspaper aside onto the counter. The news of the North Korean troops invading Seoul changed everyone’s lives, throwing the country into a state of chaos trying to keep them from completely overtaking all of South Korea. Now a year later, the war is still in full force and though you know it’s important to stay updated on what’s happening, you don’t bother with the news articles anymore. They always say more or less the same thing: the war continues on with more casualties and less hope of ending soon.
Your heart grows heavy with each day growing worse than the last. You wish there was more you could do to help the war efforts, but you’re stuck at home taking care of your sick father. He’s the only family you have left, after your mother’s death a few years ago. All of the money received from her passing has gone into your father, but since the start of the war prices have done nothing but skyrocket.
So you spend your days at home taking care of your father, and your nights in a factory working to earn an income. You don’t mind the work though, allowing your mind to focus on something that isn’t the war or your father.
The only other time you get a break, an actual real break, is on Saturdays. It’s the one day in the week you allow yourself to go out, spending the afternoon to yourself getting groceries and taking time to focus on yourself.
You go through the same routine, walking down to the port and spending a few minutes enjoying the waves lapping against the shore, the salty sea water scent filling the air as the summer breeze brushes up against your skin. After taking in the sight of the sea, you move further into town and down the street to the cemetery.
Every Saturday you visit your mother’s grave, sitting with her for a while as you update her on your life and the current events. Occasionally you will bring a book and read aloud. You find the time spent with her calming, her maternal love enveloping you and letting you rest, even for a small bit of time.
Afterwards you browse the shops in town (only looking, never buying) before heading to the market to finish your day off. You spend the money for the groceries to get you through the week before heading back home. You do your best to walk most places you go, not wanting to spend the fare for the trollies. 
The streets are busy on the weekend and on your walk back to your house, someone bumps into you causing you to drop your bags, all of your freshly bought groceries tumbling to the ground. The person doesn’t even stop and you can’t bother chasing them too. You just sigh and bend down to pick up the now unusable goods. 
You now have to turn around and go back into town to get more groceries. It will take a good chunk out of your funds, but not too much. Maybe you’ll pick up a few more shifts at the factory.
“Excuse me, are you okay?” As you’re thinking about how to make up the price of the ruined groceries, you miss the man who has walked up to you.
When you look up you see a beautiful man with a sweet round face and dark hair staring down at you. He’s dressed nicely in a suit and it takes you a moment to actually respond to him, too distracted by his good looks.
“Pardon?”
“I was asking if you were okay?” The man bends down to help you pick up the rest of the food spilled on the ground. “I saw that man bump into you and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Oh! I’m fine, thank you.” You smile at him, appreciative of the kind gesture.
“But all of your groceries are now ruined. Allow me to buy you more.”
“Oh no! That’s not necessary,” you quickly tell the man. You don’t even know him and you would feel guilty allowing a man who didn’t even cause the casualty to pay for your groceries, especially with the state of the economy.
“I insist,” he says, standing and then helping you stand as well. “It’s the least I could do.”
“Sir it really-” Before you can even finish your sentence the man was walking away, back towards the town. You could just go back home, but then you’d be left with no groceries for the week so you begrudgingly follow him back to the market.
“Lee Jihoon, by the way,” he tells you as you two walk around the market, collecting what you need. You give him your name as well and he grins, a small spark igniting behind his eyes as he tells you how lovely your name is.
When you’re done regathering what you need you move to head to the register, but Jihoon stops you.
“This is all you’re getting? It’s barely enough for any proper meals. Please, add more. I won’t mind, I demand of it actually.” Jihoon then moves to add more to the basket and once again you have to follow along as Jihoon is the one carrying it.
You protest each time a new item is added but Jihoon keeps hushing you like you’re a life long friend rather than a stranger he met on the street no more than thirty minutes ago. By the time Jihoon is satisfied with what’s in your basket, it’s full to the top and you can’t remember the last time you’ve seen so much food in your life. Guilt eats away at you as you think about the money Jihoon is about to drop on you just because someone else made you drop your bags.
It isn’t until you’re checking out and Jihoon casually pulls out multiple banknotes without even a blink of an eye that you realize that not everyone lives like you and that just maybe Jihoon doesn’t mind paying so much because he has the money laying around to do so. Even back when your mother was alive and your father was able to work your family was still paying for everything with scraped up coins.
The sun is already low in the sky by the time you two exit the market and Jihoon stops you once more. “Allow my driver to take you back to your house.”
The sentence alone confirms your suspicions on Jihoon’s monetary status. To own a car is a luxury of its own, but to have a driver as well seals the deal.
You already can tell it’s impossible to turn Jihoon down so you just follow him back to his car. You wonder if his driver followed you after you two walked to the market. When you two get into the car you tell your address to the driver, trying not to get embarrassed at the thought of the nice car driving through your run down little neighborhood. 
Jihoon’s driver just nods and starts up the car. The three of you sit in silence until the car pulls up to your house and you climb out. Jihoon does as well, helping carry your groceries to the door.
“It was nice meeting you,” Jihoon says. “If you ever need anything again, give me a call.” He holds out a small white card, his business card, to you. You take it and thank him once more before entering your house, your mind still lingering on the strange, rich man.
You don’t give Jihoon a call, but you don’t have to. You run into him again not even three days after your first interaction. It’s early in the morning and you’re heading back home after work when you hear your name called out. When you turn you see the man’s car rolling up next to you, his head poking out of the back seat window.
“What are you doing walking alone so early in the morning? The sun has barely started to rise.”
"I'm walking back home from work," you answer honestly.
Jihoon's face looks sour at this, like he couldn't imagine working so late at night. "If you have been working all night let me treat you to breakfast."
It's your turn to let your face screw up slightly. You know that Jihoon can afford to buy you breakfast, but you still don't want to feel indebted to him. Not to mention your father will be waking up soon and you'll need to make his breakfast as well. You tell Jihoon as much.
"Then I will buy breakfast for your father too," is his solution.
You're not sure why he keeps insisting on buying you things but you just sigh and climb into the car. Jihoon has a smug grin on his face as he tells his driver where to go.
A few minutes later the car pulls up in front of a diner and you and Jihoon enter. It's nothing extravagant, but still a treat for those with a tight budget. 
The two of you sit in silence until a waitress comes and takes your order. Jihoon doesn't allow you to order for yourself, picking what he tells you are the most delicious and filling items. He orders for himself and then a third meal, asking the waitress to not cook it until she brings the check.
You note the way Jihoon has a nice presence to him, friendly and warm and inviting. The way his soft features are accentuated when he smiles, his round cheeks puffing up and his eyes squinting. You find him fascinating, but there's something more than that, something drawing you to him.
"So, where do you work that has you walking home at six in the morning?" 
The question breaks the ice between you as you fall into a natural conversation, asking questions and trading answers. Your hesitations towards the man quickly ebb the more you talk.
You learn he's a highly successful businessman but the war has halted much of his work which has given him some much needed down time. Like you, he doesn't have many living family members and he's an altruistic man so much of his money is left unspent.
Before you know it both of your meals are finished and the waitress is bringing over the check and the packaged meal for your father. Just like at the market, Jihoon pulls out his banknotes and pays before escorting you back to his car.
When you arrive at your house a part of you feels disappointed that the morning with Jihoon is over. Now it's back to the real world. 
You're halfway to your door when you suddenly turn back around. You don't know what causes you to say it before you can stop yourself you spit out, "Would you like to come in for a cup of tea? It's the last I could do after all of your kindness." 
Jihoon beams in front of you. "I would love that."
Bloodiest Battles of the War So Far, Conscription Soon to Follow?
Five months after you meet Jihoon he knocks on your front door, a letter clutched in his fist. There's a grim look on his face when you open the door and you know automatically.
The Battle of Bloody Ridge, follwoed by The Battle of Heartbreak Ridge, took out many of the soldiers on the frontlines and the country was now desperate to find new ones to replace them. A mandatory conscription for any young man who was eligible to join the military.
It didn't take long for you and Jihoon to start a relationship after your first few meetings. He's the perfect man, taking care of both you and your father and showering you in nothing but love and affection. The thought of him so far away, in the direct line of danger, makes a lump grow in your throat. Your chest tightens as your heart aches.
"We'll be okay," Jihoon mutters into your hair as you cry silently into his neck, holding him tightly. Like if you hold him tight enough he won't have to leave.
That's not how the world works though, and you accompany Jihoon on the day he is to deploy.
"If you need more money just send me a letter and I'll take care of it, okay?"
"You've left me with plenty already, love," you tell him as you fix his jacket collar. "Just come home safe."
"As long as you make sure I have something to come home to."
You can already feel the tears welling up in your eyes and you lean forward to press your lips to Jihoon's. He kisses you back, putting all of his love into it. A promise to you, that you will see him again, that this isn't your last kiss.
With one last squeeze of the hand Jihoon boards the bus and you're left alone, a heaviness in your heart and worry forming under your skin.
You just have to keep telling yourself he'll be okay, he has to be.
December 19, 1951
To the one my heart has gone to,
I hope you don't mind the frequency of my letters, I just feel closer to you know that eventually you'll hold the same paper in your fingers. I miss you tremendously, to the point my heart aches thinking of you.
Do you know that when you send your letters they smell of you? I always keep your most recent ones safe, in hopes to preserve the smell for just a little while longer.
There's not much to report about today, which I suppose is a good thing. Better than something hectic or even worse, a battle. 
Unfortunately it still doesn't look like there will be a break anytime soon. Battle after battle, life after life. It's not easy, but I've come to like the other men in my unit. Jeonghan takes good of us and Seokmin makes nice company. 
I don't want to keep you long, but I wanted to make sure you'd get a letter for before the holidays hit. Merry Christmas my love.
I'll make it up to you when I get home okay? For now just keep me in your dreams.
Write back soon, please. I want to hear what my lover has been up to. Keep me updated on your father as well.
All my love,
Your Jihoon
March 22, 1952
Today was hard.
I'm doing unwell as I write this letter, but it would pain me more not to send you my update.
Kwon Soonyoung died next to me today on the battlefield. It is not the first time a man has died near me, but it is the first time it was a man I have grown fond of. He was only a few months older than I am.
As grim as it may sound, and as much as I will mourn the loss, I am grateful that it was not me in his place. It was a difference of mere inches and fate chose Soonyoung. Does it mean anything? Is there a reason why I lived and he didn’t? I’m not sure but all I can think about is that his sacrifice is giving me a second chance at going home. Does that make me a bad person?
Everyday I pray this nightmare will be over. The thought of you is the only thing encouraging me to go on. I think about coming home to you, kissing your sweet lips, holding you in my arms.
We’ve been apart longer than we were together and I beat myself up for that everyday. I wish we would have met earlier, but as soon as the war is over we will have all the time in the world. Just you and me.
Wish me home soon,
Your Jihoon
November 30, 1952
To the home of my heart,
You have been on my mind all of today, not that you aren’t always on my mind normally. It has been particularly hard today though. It’s been a full year since my departure from you and every day has been harder than the last.
It’s hard to sleep at night and I often lay awake and think about you. Sometimes I will take a walk and look up at the sky. The moon and the stars are thousands of miles away but they still seem so close and bring so much comfort. That’s how I feel about you. Gazing at the moon also helps because it is still the same moon that you are under as well.
Look at the moon and think of me okay? Maybe one night we will be looking at the moon at the same time and I will be able to feel you just a bit closer.
Whenever I am able to fall asleep, I dream about you. I dream about the thought of you laying next to me. I wish to kiss your soft lips and feel your warm skin and look into your shining eyes. I dream of the life we will build together when we are reunited at last.
Would you marry me, my love?
I know it’s silly asking over a letter like this, and asking with such a strange courtship, but something in me feels the need to ask. Ever since I met you on the street that one fateful day, I’ve known you were the one for me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, so please accept my proposal (I promise to give you a proper one the second I get home).
The other men keep teasing me about you, but they just don’t understand the love we share. Being with you, even just the thought of you, it feels like home.
A part of me wonders if I’ve secretly loved you my whole life. It sure feels like it. No matter what I know you were made for me and everyday I bless whatever force brought us together. I love you so much it drives me crazy.
When I get home let me take you out on a thousand dates to make up for the time lost. 
Please send me your answer soon,
Your fiance Jihoon
February 01, 1953
To my dearest,
I’m writing to you from the infirmary. I was shot in battle earlier, nowhere too fatal just the leg, but I just woke up from the procedure to remove the bullet and patch me up. I’m lucky to come out with nothing more than a scar. Some other men aren’t as lucky.
It seems everyday is a new fight, but it’s worth it if it gives me a chance of going back home to you. We’ll buy a house close to the port, so you can be near the ocean breeze. Every night we’ll walk the shore and watch the sunset together. Then on Saturdays I’ll accompany you on your errands. We’ll go to town together and get groceries and visit the cafe and do whatever your heart desires. 
I’ll buy fresh flowers for your parents every week.
We could get a cat to keep you company while I’m at work and you could quit that heinous job at the factory. That would give you more time to focus on yourself. You and I both know that my wealth is more than enough for just the two of us.
Our house shouldn’t be too big, but still a good size in case we ever have guests over. I think we should start a garden as well.
Ah, my love, thinking about our future is nice. It helps me wish for the future, helps me feel closer to you. Thank you for being my safe place away from this nightmare. I should rest more now, but please remember that I will always spend everyday loving you.
Pray for my speedy recovery,
Your Jihoon
July 07, 1953
Jagiya! I apologize for the lack of letters recently, things have been so hectic around here, but I write with good news!
The talk around camp is that the negotiations have been making a move, there is finally an end in sight. I cannot wait to get back to you. It has been far too long since I’ve seen you and the photo I carry of you has started to fade already from how often I admire it. 
I cannot stay to write for long, but I needed to send you an update and a reminder of my love. I promise we will be back together soon.
Go to town and buy some flowers for yourself okay? Today is worth celebrating.
I can’t wait to see you,
Your Jihoon
You’re jittery as you smooth down your shirt, waiting for the bus to pull up. The same bus that took him away nearly two years ago.
When all of your friends heard about your beau, they all called you crazy. Holding out for a man who has been gone for quadruple the amount of time you spent together and you guess maybe it is crazy, but for Jihoon you would do anything.
It is true that you two were only together for five months before his deployment, but even before he left you knew you were madly in love with Lee Jihoon. You spent your nights reading the letters Jihoon sent you, and writing ones back. You would think you two had been lovers for fifty years rather than five months.
You’ve always felt the pull towards Jihoon though, like you’ve been loving him all your life. Every letter he sent made you fall in love with him even more, and now two years later he’s finally coming home. 
The days were hard without him when you saw him nearly everyday before he left. Winter of 1952 was less than kind, taking your father with it and leaving you alone for the last seven months, wishing for nothing but for Jihoon to come home. Now he is and you couldn’t be more elated.
The people standing around you start to cheer when someone catches sight of the bus, but you can’t do anything but stand there, your heart pounding in your chest. When the bus stops and soldiers start to pour out you have a moment of doubt. The fear that Jihoon won’t want you anymore, that everything has changed for the worse, creeps into your mind.
The thoughts can barely form though because then Jihoon’s stepping off the bus and his skin is so much tanner than it used to be and you’ve never seen him with his hair so short but it’s Jihoon, your Jihoon. His eyes light up when he catches sight of your familiar face and he’s dropping his bags and running towards you.
His arms are locked around your waist and you’re being lifted off the ground. You cup Jihoon’s face in your hands and lean down to kiss him as he spins you two around, easing all of the worries in your mind. Your cheeks dampen as tears start to stream down your face, too many emotions coursing through you to keep them all on the inside.
You keep your hands on Jihoon’s face as he sets you down. You stroke his cheek, feeling his warm skin under your touch. “You’re here, you’re really here.”
“I’m here my love, I’m here, and I’m never leaving you again.”
It doesn’t take much longer for you and Jihoon to leave the station. You two sit in the back of his car, pressed together as Jihoon presses kisses to your face every few minutes. You’re not much better though, leaning into him with a dopey grin on your face, ready to start your new life with the man you love the most.
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The next time you see Jihoon isn’t at the antique shop at all. You’re getting coffee at the cafe next to your apartment when you see the man walk in. His eyes light up a bit when he sees you and he makes a beeline to your table after getting his drink.
“Is this seat open?” He asks, pointing to the empty chair across from you.
“Of course.”
Jihoon takes a seat before turning his attention to you. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Maybe it’s fate,” you say teasingly but Jihoon just grins.
“Maybe it is,” his voice is smooth as he talks, and your breath gets caught in your throat, “I mean, I wouldn’t be upset if I was destined to meet you over and over again.”
You break his gaze, trying not to show him how flustered you are. “You’re quite the sweet talker you know? You don’t know anything about me-”
“No, but I don’t think it would be hard to learn. I’m starting to think we’re not really strangers at all. You can’t tell me that you aren’t a bit interested in me as well.”
You glance back at Jihoon to find him staring intently at him. His eyes are warm and deep and you can feel yourself being drawn in, like you’ve stared at those eyes a million times before. There’s an inviting sense to all of Jihoon and the only thing you can think of to describe it as is home. 
“Okay,” you tell him with a slight grin. “Let’s see if destiny is right.”
And really you don’t care if it is fate or not, because as you and Jihoon fall into a comfortable conversation you realize that the two of you meeting was no mistake, and that you could definitely love Lee Jihoon for multiple lifetimes. 
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tangerinesilk · 9 months
Text
- I CAN SEE YOU : TANGERINE X FEM!READER
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tangerine is going on a solo mission… well, at least he thinks he is. with lemon missing by his side, he’s left with one other option that is supposed to make his job easier. unfortunately for him, you’re not the easiest to work with. stubborn, strong-minded and feisty. you’re both so alike yet nothing has made your bloods boil more than each other. 
rating ✷ r (18+ minors dni!)
warnings ✷ (very quick) smut: fem receiving, kisses all over bodies, a needy but quick hj, p in v, dirty talk, praising, implied rough (consensual) sex / others: cursing, drinking alcohol, mention and use of guns and violence, male hurting female (?) but not between main characters, mentions of blood and wounds.
tropes ✷ enemies to lovers!!!, person a is all talk no bite + person b knows that but still pushes them, playful banter, hiding together in small spaces, fake dating (?), if one is hurt– the other goes a bit crazy, says ‘i dont care’ then cares 5 seconds later. 
word count ✷ 6k!
songs that fit the vibe ✷ i can see you - taylor swift | moth to a flame - swedish house mafia + the weeknd | king of my heart - taylor swift | attention - charlie puth | nonsense - sabrina carpenter
a/n ✷ so i made a poll a months ago and this trope + pairing won! i’ve honestly been wanting to write a dave lizewski one as well and got a request idea. so.. we will see lmao. i will probably post then maybe edit later if there's still things i don't like... also, if you couldn't tell but im kind of a swiftie so i will love to write fics inspired by whole ass albums y'all.
but i hope this is what u guys expected and wanted. i actually do love writing for tangerine. just gives into my delulu thoughts. also, if you guys would like a plain pwp fic and not all of this fluff and dialogue stuffed inside, pls let me know bc i am definitely into that idea. 🫡
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“You had to go and get yourself shot… then you wonder why you have to wear a bulletproof vest. Fuckin’ hell.” 
Tangerine kept his voice at a hushed tone, basically talking under his breath as he strutted through the grand hall of the hotel. Golden light glossed over his figure, passing by couples who were at standing tables with their cocktails.
“Well, Thomas said-”
“Thomas didn’t say shit. Don’t get me fuckin’ started now.”
Lemon already knew Tan was in a bad mood. Another Thomas the Tank Engine factoid wasn’t a playful move right now.
“Hey, mate. Don’t get all fussy wit’ me. You’re just mad about your new partner for the night.” Lemon rolled his eyes.
“Can’t believe I can’t be held accountable of myself. I can handle it on my own but you had to call the fuckin’ princess-” 
“She’s good. Your denial is obnoxious, bruv. It’s only a night, you get in and get out.” Lemon replied, holding his wounded side as he laid in his bed back in England, “What happened between you two that you’ve got beef like this?”
“No time to explain nor do I have the patience.” He arrived at the small bar to the side of the room, “If I leave her behind, can I take half the pay that’s supposed to be hers?” Tangerine asked.
“She’s supposed to be wearing a red dress. You’ll see her there… and please don’t cause a scene.” His brother begged.
“No promises.” He replied before hanging up. 
Tangerine blows a sigh past his lips, quickly asking for his drink of choice before scanning the mass of people around him. His blue eyes could only search so fast for the man that the hit was called on, causing him an instant frustration when he’s already worried about you ruining things regardless of how long you’re together.
“He’s next to the woman in the tacky gold ballgown… about two feet away from the ice sculpture.” Your soft voice suddenly spoke next to him, “But, I didn’t need to tell you that, right?”
The smirk on your face burned at his nerves and you noticed the clench in his jaw.
“Well, if it isn’t the fuckin’ Queen herself.” He said in a stern tone, “What? Germany was too borin’ for ya? Had to figure out a way to ruin someone’s operation?”
“Lemon is the one who called me in, and it isn’t about you. It’s about the pay out… you’re bound to screw something up with your ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ tactic.” You trailed, rolling your eyes as you turned your head away.
“And I’m certainly not afraid to use that tonight and not your fucked up, painfully long mind games like some fuckin’ psycho thilling killer.” He spat as his drink was place in front of him.
You narrowed your eyes at him, “Fuck you.”
“Darling, I’m flattered, but we have more important things to do right now.” He lowly groaned, purposefully looking at his target so his back was facing toward you.
Behind his tall stature, you glimpsed past his shoulder and saw your target chatting up a woman. 
He won’t be smiling for long, you thought.
“Alright, I’ll wait for him to slip away, follow him and you go through the kitchen.” Tangerine said under his breath, keeping quiet for only you to hear him.
“To go where?” You ask, walking around him to stand face to face.
“Erm…” He sighed, “Whatever car or vehicle you got here in, drive yourself back to whatever place you’re staying and I’ll figure out how to wire you the money.” He shrugged, downing the rest of his drink.
He took a step but you placed your hand on the center of his chest, “Not so fast. I’m not going down if you make a mess of this.”
“I don’t make messes. Well, actually, I get away with them once I’ve done ‘em so, I don’t need to worry about a liability.” Tangerine smirked, a bit of a tilt to his head. Cheeky bastard.
“The only liability here is the one who is ready to pull the trigger in his back.” You said before huffing, “I’m not sorry for what happened in Paris, but that was my choice. So, I’m going with you because it’s our operation. You know… I don’t need a fucking helping hand either.” You practically growled.
The two of you held a long gaze, creating a tense eye contact before he sighed, “Didn’t even say anythin’ about Paris, but if you’d like to assume I’m still mad ‘bout that, be my guest, princess.”
His shoulder bumped yours, making you clench your jaw before quickly following behind his tall stature. While he seemed persistent, you grabbed his hand which made him stop in his tracks in the middle of the dance floor.
He turned, “Am I your babysitter?”
“No, you’re my date. Hold my hand, you idiot.” Your eyes pierced through his.
As he looked down at your hand, he slowly grasped it, your fingers intertwining with one another’s before he proceeded through the glamorous crowd.
Couples swayed and waltzed between each step you took, assuming you were unnoticed by your target. Tangerine kept his eyes on him, easy to with the frosty-white full head of hair he had slicked back. The woman in the tacky dress ran her hand down his shoulder, pressing her lips to his ear to whisper something which made you and Tangerine veer to the side at a standing table.
“Are they movin’?” He asked, facing his back toward them.
Your eyes smoothly shift, taking a quick glance at the assumed couple. You ran your hand down Tangerine’s arm, accidentally feeling how toned his bicep was through the thick fabric of his suit jacket. You almost glanced down, wanting to give another squeeze before clearing your throat. A heat rose on your cheeks as you turned your head to face away from him.
“Y-Yeah, near the bathroom. There’s also a backdoor that leads up to the second floor… lots of private rooms for reasons that are obvious.” You said in a hushed tone, moving away from him to the other side of the table.
“Alright, since you wanna tag along, I’ll follow them and you cover the door.” Tangerine suggested once again.
You furrowed your eyebrows, “You do understand what teamwork is, yes?”
He chuckled, “Yes, I go up there, shoot a few rounds, then we make a getaway.”
“Will you just trust me?”
“Your trust means nothing… I need to know you’re not going to fuck anything up. Just like in Paris.”
You smirked, “So you do have that against me.”
“Well, it’s not like it was your best. Leave me with a shot in the arm, Lemon on the ground and you, little miss greed, get away with your cash. If we all did this job for money, we wouldn’t be riskin’ our lives just runnin’ around killin’ or resucin’ people just for someone’s dime. You obviously do though.”
You narrowed your eyes, “You don’t know me…”
“Nor do you know me so…” He huffed, “Let’s just do what we have to do.”
There was tension between you, as if there was more fo a protective instinct than hate toward one another. You couldn't figure out Tangerine’s deal. Why was he so hostile toward you? Yes, what happened in Paris was fucked up, but he wasn’t the type to hold a grudge. He didn’t take shit from anyone, so why were you getting under his skin?
“Shit!” He grunted under his breath, seeing your target disappear into the hall.
The two of you hurry, yet still try to act casual to not raise eyebrows, and exit into the same hallway. As you push open the door, you hear the two talking in the stairwell before another door closes.
“You got your gun on you?” He asked as his hand slid into the back of his pants.
“Of course.” You scoffed, tearing up the slit in your dress. He saw the small pistol strapped to your thigh, making his mouth a bit dry.
He nodded, “Good…” 
Taking a quick breath, Tangerine opened the door. You slipped through and he followed behind, your backs facing one another as you scanned the hallway. It wasn’t narrow but if anyone slipped out of one of the rooms, they were right in your sights.
“I’ll take this one, you take that one.” He whispered, pointing his gun to the opposite door of his.
With your heart in your throat, you slowly crack the door open and don’t see anyone before a body flies from behind and slammed the door open from Tangerine’s side. The woman lied dead on the floor, blood all over his dress, and just as you turned around, a punch slid across your cheek. 
Instinctively, you ducked to dodge the second jab and swoop under to get on the other side of the man as Tangerine wrapped his arms around the guy to pull him to the ground.
Tan loudly grunted as he tried to gain control, basically attempting to straddle him in order to push his arm against his neck. Even with all his strength, the man gripped his hands around Tangerine’s arms to throw him off along with trying to push his knee between his crotch.
“Watch the door!” Tan directed to you. 
You nodded, catching your breath with your back against the wall by the door. The adrenaline ran through your veins and heard your heartbeat in your ears as one tear of blood dripped down your cheek. The crack of bones made you turn your head, seeing the man’s body go limp as Tan began to stand over him.
He quickly walked over the man, as if he was in the way, and comes to your side.
“He nicked you bad. Lemme see.” Tan said, your eyes meeting his as he held your cheek. The touch of his hand seemed to be some comfort, his thumb wiping the blood away and trying to see how bad the wound was.
“Bastard.” He muttered, “C’mon, let’s go before someone comes up.”
Without a word in, he grabbed your hand and dragged you behind his lead. You two headed for the exit door down the other side of the hall as you heard footsteps rumble from the other stairs you came up.
“Wait a minute.” Tan said, fiddling with his belt buckle.
Your eyes widen, “What on earth are you doing?”
He smirked, “Relax, darling. You flatter yourself too much.”
You rolled your eyes as the sound of his belt slid against the fabric of his belt loops before curling the leather strap around the door to keep it locked. The two of you fled down the stairs and suddenly found yourselves in the kitchen area. A few eyes followed as you both ran through, very obvious that you were running from something, but still aimed to get to some kind of exit.
With sudden luck, Tangerine saw his car across the street, instantly knowing which way he was supposed to go. Without skipping a beat, he grabbed your hand once more and the two of you ran across the street. Hopping into the passenger seat and Tan taking off was like a blur, just happening in seconds.
“Y/N?” Tan saying your name woke you from your trance.
“Huh?” You asked, shaking your head.
He quickly turned his head, “You alright?” He said with concern, one hand on the steering wheel and his foot easing off the gas.
“Y-Yeah, I’m okay. I don’t know what happened back there.” You trailed, a bit embarrassed. You were never one to let your guard down, well– enough to get hit right smack in the face.
“Are you sure?”
You turned your attention to him, “I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” You asked rhetorically.
“‘Cause of that big cut on your cheek.”
You narrowed your eyes, “Alright, what’s your big plan now, Einstein? Were just going to sleep in your car and hope we don’t wake up decapitated?”
He half-chuckled, “You truly think so little of me, don’t you?”
“Is that rhetorical?”
Tan rolled his blue eyes, “We’re goin’ somewhere safe.”
– – –
You wanted to believe you were strolling into some kind of trap. The lobby had a classic aesthetic to it, pale gold wallpaper and a wall of keys behind the person at the small front desk. You two placed your go-bags on the red carpeted ground as Tangerine checked into a room.
“Hello Mr. Tangerine.”
Oh, great. He’s some guest of honor here.
“‘Ello, Colin. My usual room.”
“Is that what you say in front of all the girls?” You tilted your head, standing behind him.
He rolled his eyes, “‘Cuse her.”
The man chuckled, crinkles by his eyes, “How many nights are you staying this time?”
This time. You could scoff out loud but you didn’t want to hear the tude from him.
“Just overnight. Nothin’ too serious.”
“Well, enjoy your stay, as always.” The man nodded before Tangerine thanked him.
The two of you head toward the old elevator, watching him quickly press the up button before you stand by his side. You half chuckled, “I’ve never seen you act so kindly toward anyone, tell me, does he see you bring girls through here all the time or-”
“Has anyone ever told you to shut your pie hole?”
“Hmm, not verbally. But, those eyes of your say enough for me… you’re too predictable, sometimes, Tan.”
He gave you a lingering look as the door opened, passing him into the elevator. The two of you make your way to the fifth floor and the hall is eerily quite for a hotel full of private contractors and assassins. You had your hands behind your back then patiently waited for Tangerine to jiggle the key into the lock, opening a door to a huge room with a surprisingly wide view.
“You’d think the curtains were closed.” You muttered as he walked over, closing them anyways.
Suddenly, he stripped from his suit jacket and you couldn’t help but see how tight his button up was around his biceps and chest.
“Did you get that a size too small?” You ask as you chunk your heels into the corner.
“Well, I certainly can’t kill fuckin’ bloaks wearing baggy clothes now.”
“But, you can in a three piece suit?” You cocked your eyebrow.
He licked his lips, “As if your dress is a flexible material.” Tangerine said as he pulled his rings off, placing them on the night stand.
“I can say the same for your pants.”
Tangerine wanted to look down but didn’t give into your comment. You place your bag down on the bed, grabbing your silk pajamas nearly folded on top and changed in the bathroom.
“God, just go to bed. We’ve got a long day tomorrow.” You somewhat groaned.
You sit on the top of the bed, unfolding the duvet before shoving it off to get underneath them.
Tangerine paused, “What the fuck do you you’re doin’?”
You furrowed your eyebrow, “This thing called going to sleep. Try it sometime, you’d be less grouchy.”
He rolled his eyes, “I know that, smartass, I mean what’re you doin’ in the bed that I’m goin’ to be sleepin’ in too?”
You rolled over, putting your weight on your elbows, “I know you’re dramatic but this takes the cake for top performances.”
He faked a laugh, “If you don’t get your ass out of that bed in two seconds, I’ll throw you in the tub with a pillow.”
“Oh, wouldn’t you like to. Fine, do it.” You said before laying flat into the mattress, staring straight at the ceiling.
He didn’t care for your equal amount of sarcasm, but he just gave you a cocked eyebrow.
“Okay, fine. I’d rather sleep on the floor anyways.” He said, stretching his arms up and behind his head. Your eyes quickly admired his muscles before turning back.
“Be my guest, princess.” You scoffed, slipping on your pajama shorts, “I’ll enjoy my big comfy bed.”
You pulled the heavy duvet over your waist, curling up with the dense pillow beneath your head. 
Tangerine stood there, biting the inside of his cheek as he watched you roll on your side. He tilted his head back before unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it on the desk chair. Although your eyes were closed, his side of the bed sunk in and you tried to hold back your smile at his faded stubbornness.
With your backs facing one another, you two just listened to the silence of the city. It gave you a moment to think of Paris– the last time you were with one another or much rather supposed to be against each other. You were a double agent, not exactly proud of it but you let greed take over your motivated justice. 
Having to scam Lemon and Tangerine wasn’t your finest hour either, you thought about it for months and finally coming face to face with Tangerine (out of the two, he wasn’t the one you would want to bump into again), all the guilt came rushing back like the snap of an elastic band.
– – –
The morning sun runs through the thin silk of the curtains, shining over your bodies in the bed. You wake up to the sound of light snoring, happy that you could sleep through it, and Tangerine in a deep slumber with his arm over the bed. He suddenly looked like innocence, so soft and tender, simply laying there like it was any other day.
You sit up, putting your hair out of your face then head to the bathroom. When you turn the light on, you’re almost surprised to see your reflection. Forgetting about the scar against your cheek, you look more rough around the edges. You sigh as you run your fingers over it, remembering the way Tangerine did last night.
After washing up, you go back out and Tangerine is now standing up and stretching his arms above his head. Your eyes quickly shift up his body, admiring the tattoos in their random places and how the band of his briefs rest on his hips. You sealed your lips from smiling at how sharp his v-line was accompanied by the happy trail disappearing into his pants.
“Sleep good with that stick in your ass?” You retort, passing him.
He rolled his eyes, “...You’re annoying, ya know that?”
“Oh, you’ve made that clear.” You mocked him as you closed the curtains more, “That’s why I love to do it.”
Tangerine flicked on the lamp, giving the room a warm glow.
“Alright, I say we lay low today. Better to be out of sight and–”
You cut him off, “Stuck in this room together?... are you trying to kill me t–”
He then put his hand over your mouth, looking deep into your eyes, “Yes, stuck in this room where we can keep an eye on each other and you can’t screw me over again.”
Your heart stopped for a split second, as if he couldn’t have been more of the controlling one. He took his hand away and you gulped, “Yep. Fine. Fair.”
Tangerine pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek before you go to your bag in the chair that’s pushed in the corner of the room. You slightly bend over to look inside your duffle and his icy eyes can’t help but look up the back of your thighs and straight at your ass and lower back. How he could easily put his hands on your hips and make you hold onto something.
He shook his head, feeling like he was coming down with something to even imagine that thought.
You pulled out an old novel and sat yourself back on the bed, hoping that the hours would pass as you sank further into the broken-in mattress.
Tangerine sat down in the chair nudged into the corner, adjacent from your view, and he pulled out his gun that was conveniently tucked into the back of his pants.
“Are you actually holding me hostage?” You furrowed your brows, but didn’t take your eyes from your sentence.
“Whatever fantasy you’d like you believe.” He trailed, opening his gun and emptying his rounds into his palm.
– – –
Suddenly, you leaped out of a deep sleep. Your book laid open on your stomach while an extra pillow was between your legs. Your eyes fluttered open, thinking the past few days has been a dream, until you noticed Tangerine wasn’t sitting in the chair. You quickly looked around before hearing the bathroom door open and he stepped out, shirtless and in new dark slacks that rested on his hips.
Your mouth became dry. How could you dislike him so much yet here you are, ready to jump his bones as he crossed the room.
“What are you getting dressed for?” You asked, rubbing your eyes.
He half-chuckled at your groggy voice, “I want a drink.”
“Oh, like you’re not just going to abandon me here like I did you?... Where you go, I go.” You warned him.
He rolled his eyes, “Don’t be so dramatic.”
“A bit hypocritical coming from you.”
Tangerine just ignored your smart comment and opened the door, letting you through first before he followed. His eyes, once again, trace your lower back and trailed down your legs. His cheeks flushed pink as he quickly looked away, clearing his throat as he caught up to you so you two were walking side by side.
You pushed the faded down button as you pushed a big breath past your lips. Tangerine put his back against the wall and crossed his arms, his muscles basically restraining in his light button up. As you turned around, you rolled your eyes– but not at him, just at yourself. How could you have any little feeling for someone who also annoyed you to your core?
He took your silence as a bit of a tease. To be fair, you two didn’t really know one another. You met once before and then you simply betrayed him. Quickly, you were dead to him, but now you’re forced to be together and it raised an important question to himself too. Why was he helping someone who obviously can’t be trusted? 
Tangerine furrowed his eyebrows at that thought, knowing he would have thrown you to the wolves last night after you closed your eyes. He played with his watch a bit before the elevator dinged and caught both of your attentions.
After entering, the low-sounding shifting mechanics of the elevator were the only sounds between you two. You heard Tangerine sniffle, seeing him stretch his neck out of the corner of your eye, but you kept a straight view to the doors. While Tangerine thought you were continuing to give him the silent treatment, you were lost in your own thoughts of the past.
You flashbacked to your last night in Paris together, and remembered how the guilt creeped up on you knowing that, in a few hours, you’d have to betray both Lemon and Tangerine. Before knowing them, you didn’t care, but now that you’ve realized how hard you were falling for Tan, it felt like a double edged sword. If you didn’t do it, maybe you could stay with him– have a life together. But, if you went through with your selfish heist, you’d lose the guy who made you comfortable with being vulnerable after a long time. 
Obviously, you regretted your decision.
“Is this what you want?” You simply asked.
Tangerine quickly turned his head, “What?”
You rolled your eyes before facing his direction, “This.” You gestured between the two of you, “The weird animosity and constantly arguing and nit-picking?”
He never thought you’d be so bold to point it out, “I mean, we don’t like each other. Simple, isn’t it?”
“I guess…” You trailed, facing back toward the doors.
Tangerine licked his lips, wondering if he should utter the words on his tongue.
“...But, that doesn’t mean we can’t start over.”
You looked over your shoulder once more before turning around to him, “You mean that?”
He arched his eyebrow, “Should I regret it now?”
Just as the elevator dinged, the doors slowly opened and the hotel lobby appeared empty. You smirked to yourself, “Why don’t we catch up over that drink, huh?” You sort of teased– not sure if it had purpose.
– – –
Your drink tasted smooth, easily trailing down your throat as you leaned your head back to finish off the rest of the liquor in your glass. Once you tilted your head back straight, you were met with Tangerine’s signature eyebrow arch.
“Don’t worry, I’m paying for my own drinks.” You sighed, placing your glass back down on the wooden table top.
“As long as I don’t got to carry you back up to the room.” He sighed, sounding more defeated than witty, then his blue eyes glanced down then back into your eyes.
You hummed, running your finger along the rim of the empty glass. 
“‘right so, what’ve you been doin’ since we last…” He cleared his throat, “saw one other?”
You crossed your leg over the other, “Not much. Actually, it’s the first time I’ve been out for a while. After leaving you guys, I laid low in Tuscany.”
“For how long?”
You shrugged, “Five months? I was on the countryside and I wanted to be alone…” then, you smirked, “I heard that you were in Kyoto.” 
Tangerine could chuckle about it now, “For a bit. Had a job to do for some psychotic, fucked up family. The dad called in us, they were all turin’ on each other. Whole fuckin’ thing…”
“As in…” You trailed, “Against one another? The whole family?”
He just nodded before taking a sip of his drink.
You raised your eyebrows, “Wow… and you got out with no bruises or cuts? Bullet holes?”
Tangerine licked his lips before he presented the side of his neck, lighter skin over his tanner tone to show the scar. You carefully reached out, brushing your fingers against it which made a tingle go up his spine. You sit back down as he turned back in his chair, and he seemed to tense up.
“Amazing you survived it.” You sealed your lips.
He crossed his arms, “I supposed…”
A comfortable silent fell between you, the light, jazz music playing at a low, and Tangerine’s eyes trailed up the side of your bare leg. He didn’t mean to stare this much, but he felt more vulnerable than usual. One thing you knew is that Tangerine was a layered person, you had to take time to get to the center of him and realize he’s not so cold once you get to know him.
“Five months in Tuscany, I bet that was lovely.”
“Not really. I isolated the whole time… I wanted to be by myself, but I felt bad about what happened… what I did in Paris.” You admitted, but didn’t look into his eyes, fearing that he would turn on you in a second.
Tangerine sighed, “You had to do your job, we did ours… that’s ‘bout all that can be said.” 
Assuming from the lack of eye contact and his tone, he seemed hurt too. You could easily let it boost your ego, but, you actually felt a relief. This hatred you’ve held against each other has finally come down and even though it wasn’t actually said, both of you can feel hostility leave the room.
You bit the inside of your cheek, “Remember, we’re starting over. Clean slate. I hope I’m making a good impression so far.” You raised your eyebrows, lifting your glass again just to drink the mixture of watered down liquor. 
He chuckled, “You’re just lovely.”
The comment made your face get hot. You blame the accent and how it can just get under your skin.
“I don’t think you’ve ever called me something so nice.”
Tangerine smirked, “Funny since we’ve just met, darling.”
Darling.
It was the first time you heard it as a term of endearment then pure spite.
You rolled your eyes, but you could humor that Tangerine was going along with it. This new cheeky side of him was something you didn’t think existed– maybe it was the liquor talking, but you hoped it wasn’t just that simple.
“So, what brings you here?” You continued to tease, placing your elbows on the table, “Business… or pleasure?” Your hand laid on top of his, brushing your fingertips along the chunky rings that perfectly fit his fingers.
Multiples thoughts sounded through both your minds.
“Maybe it’s the liquor.” “Maybe we’re a little over our heads.” “Maybe we’re bored.”
But, Tangerine held your hand on top of the table, gently holding it as his thumb grazes over your knuckles.
“Depends…” He trailed, now leaning in too, “What are you here for?”
– – –
In just a few minutes, you two were back in the room you felt trapped in for hours.
Tangerine pressed your back against the wall, a tingle running up your spine from the coolness of the wallpaper. Your lips pressed together over and over, tilting your head before biting his bottom lip. He effortlessly lifted you up with his hand under the back of your thighs, and your ankles meet around his back.
He needed so bad, desperate even… and the feeling was mutual.
He put you down on your feet again, pressing a kiss against your scarred cheek then another on your jaw. His light kisses run down the middle of your breasts as his hand lifted up the end of your skirt. You pushed your hips out as your back was against the wall still, watching him pull down your panties in an instant. You kick them to the side and Tangerine placed your leg over his shoulder, kisses along your inner thigh and your hand ran through the front of his curls.
Suddenly, his tongue ran over your swollen clit before sucking on it. With one hand in his hair, the other caressing your breast and running your thumb over your nipple.
Tangerine panted, moving his hand against your pussy lips. He pushed them apart, showing your tight hole and how you clench around nothing. He lowly groaned, running his fingers over your clit before sliding his two fingers into your pussy. You bite your bottom lip to hold back the moan stuck in your throat, watching him suck your clit and finger you at the same time.
Just as your climax neared, he felt your cunt tighten around his fingers. He couldn’t end it like this so, he took them away. You let your leg down, watching him come back up and tower over you.
“If I’m goin’ to make you cum…” He sighed, “I’m gonna be deep inside you when you fucking crumble.” He said so low before pressing his fingers against your tongue, and you tasted yourself.
You pulled his hand back, running your thumbs over his tattooed hand.
“Not if I make you cum first.” You trailed, moving his hand down so you could kiss him.
He could drop to his knees in an instant, but Tangerine surprisingly kept his composure. 
You smirked as you pushed him toward the bed, the back of his knees hitting it to make him sit down. As you stood in front of him, he leaned on his elbows as he watched your dress drop to the floor. It pooled at your ankles and when his eyes shifted back up, so glossed over, your bare body was the center of his attention.
“Hmm, I don’t think you’ll last.” You taunted.
As much as he could snap back, you straddled him and pulled apart his tightly buttoned shirt. Your hands ran over his toned and tatted chest before reaching down to his pants, unzipping the fly and he shuffled a bit to shift them off his hips. His cock was hard, restrained from his boxers and you felt flattered.
You giggled, leaning forward to share a slow kiss with him. Your bare pussy rubbed against his cock as you moved closer to him. A low groan mumbled between your makeout, and you pushed him back so you two both fell on the bed.
Your hands pressed into each side of the mattress, gaining strength to help yourself grind against his hard. His big hands tightly held your hips as you continued your smooth momentum, whimpering at your clit being rubbed by your harsh grind.
As heat rose in the room, your right hand dipped between the two of you, and ran over his hard cock once more. Tan’s lips now desperately met your jaw before taking a light bite at your neck. The feeling of your hand caressing through his boxers could make him release right there.
Becoming more impatient, you finally pushed your hand into the band of his boxers and he once more moved his hips to shift out of them. 
“Fuck, your cock is so big… can barely hold it with my hand. God, I want you to stretch me out…” You moaned, “Is that okay?”
You purposefully let him believe that he was in charge, and you were falling into the submissive role. Tangerine gained a bit of confidence from your desperate comments, and he sat more up on the bed.
“Fucking christ…” Is all he could say.
He moved the swollen and red tip against your wet slit, also aching and needing your walls to wrap around him now. At first there was pressure, pushing the tip inside your hole then slowly guiding your hips down to completely take in every inch of his cock. 
Once he bottomed out, your body lightly shook as your lips brushed against his. He was fully inside you, the tight and warm feeling making him wither beneath you.
Tangerine moved his hand, kissing your shoulder, “God, you feel like fuckin’ heaven.”
“Don’t stop. Please…” You huffed.
– – –
Then, it was morning. 
The rising sun peaked through the small split of the curtains. As you tried to shift, your body ached throughout every muscle. A small groan left your lips, but you were pulled back by a strong arm wrapped around your waist.
It snapped you back into reality. Last night really happened… and you were okay with that.
Tangerine’s tattooed arm unconsciously tightened around you, holding you close still as he still slept behind you. You barely look over your shoulder and saw his face, his eyes still shut and his curls looked wild.
You faintly smile as you turn around to face him, and that’s what woke him up. He pulled his arms back and rubbed his eyes from the brightness of the sun coming in. You run your finger along a curl on his forehead, pushing it to the top of his head and your heart melted from the sight of those blue eyes.
“Did last night really happen?” You mumbled, but with a faint smile on your lips.
He placed his hand gently on your cheek, caressing his thumb against your jaw. 
“I think the real question is…” He trailed, “Do we stay another night or go back to pretending to not know each other's existences?”
You bit your bottom lip, lightly giggling, “I think we pick secret option three and go somewhere else. Get away for a while… see where this is going. Don’t you?”
Just at that moment, Tangerine’s phone vibrated in his pants that were on the floor next to the bed. He turned over on his other side, reaching down to pull it out and reading a text Lemon just sent.
“Got a call about a job in Budapest. Are you in or overstaying your weekend?”
Tangerine smirked at himself, then felt your lips press against his neck. You placed another kiss on his shoulder, leaving a tender love bite before he turned back around to kiss you. Maybe it was the natural thrill of the chase, but you loved the not knowing. 
Whatever was next, you could only hope that he kept it interesting.
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leclercsfilm · 10 months
Text
but i'll know, i'll know
this is all fanfiction, all fake!!! no hate towards charlotte or alexandra (if that's her name idk). this is purely for fun and please don't be rude to me or insult me. thank you. <333 also, i checked grammar so i think it's fine? word count: 873 (i can't write more ig)
summary: because of your friendship with charles, his significant other wants you out of his life. (angst)
charles leclerc x female!reader
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another bad race for ferrari. charles crushed into a wall and carlos got a penalty. you watch the race on your phone, hopping to see charles while he is exiting the car. it hurts not being there for him in times like this but you know he is in a good hands.
maybe you are blaming on your little 'something different' that you feel towards him, but you feel your eyes filling with tears. ever since his new relationship, you had mixed feelings on both of them. he started calling less, and every time you see each other, his girlfriend made sure that the meeting lasts only couple of minutes.
you are still in touch with arthur, your other friend you made while watching your brother go karting with charles. you were all pretty close until you weren't. that's how it is supposed to be.
charles new girlfriend saw you as a threat, and you understand her. insecure with you along side him (even if you only see each other on races or on a reunions), or media attention and their stupid tabloids.
since age 10, this is all you knew. it hurts you that you can't be part of this.
you had a slight crush on charles when you first met, but that feeling got lost somewhere until he broke up with the previous girlfriend.
he was a mess, and you were his comfort. not only you, but there was pierre, lando, arthur, carlos, isa, kika.... everybody was there for him.
he accidentally kissed you, and he apologized 330430 times for that. but that woke up something in you. since then you were always confused around him, trying  not to blush or to be awkward enough for him to notice.
he did. he did notice. and when his girl said that he should stay away from you, he realized that it was probably for the best. he was also confused, but he had her by his side. he needs to be with her and devote his mind and soul to his girlfriend, not to wonder and question the situation with you. this was an easy way out.
you got up and started to look for something to eat. it was a mess of a day and you need to refresh yourself with something. distracting yourself.
while making food, you realize that the sun is not out anymore and that it is 8 p.m. you got your laptop and started to look up for netflix. just when you were trying to find where you left on 'friends' your phone started ringing.
without looking at it, you just picked it up.
'hallo?'
'y/n?'- a famous voice just started breathing into the phone
'charles? is everything alright?' - mutter while praying to God above that everything is fine
'yeah.... i just wanted to hear you for a bit...' - he sounded tired
'sure.. um, what now?' - confused as always, you said the first thing that came to your mind
'did you watched the race? it was pretty shit to be honest. im still shaking a little bit.'
'yes i watched it. sure it was a rough day for you'- you said while looking at the netflix which is infornt of you. you can't even calm yourself down.
'where is....she? is she with you? is there arthur or someone who can be with you?'
'no.... no really. im in bathroom. i had to escape somehow. arthur is waiting for me to get out. she was not even here. we had a fight last week.' - he sounded defeated. with his sigh, the silence got her way.
'im sorry to hear it charles. have you been drinking?' - you were worried about him, you think it never stopped.
'a little bit, yes. but im fine.'
'why are you calling me charles?' - you added
'i don't know why everytime im tipsy or drunk, i think of you. im sorry i couldn't defend you. i still think of our childhood, im sorry for throwing it away... i got scared, i got confused.. it was easier to run....'
charles cried, choking on his tears. your eyes watered as well, and you had to take a deep breath to hold back from crying out loud.
'you know... sometimes...no,no... almost always i have memories overwhelming me. it hurts so bad because you where always in every segment of my childhood, part of it. you were asking too much of me. i can't forget you...' - you cried out, while you wipe your tears.
'im sorry y/n. im so sorry. i don't know what i feel towards you. it not just friendship. i think we could be more. but we can't... and you know it. maybe this is just a process of healing... of forgetting.' - he tired to be collected. he really did. he needed to find a reason.
'well... it was nice to hear you charles. take care of yourself. don't be harsh to yourself..' - with that, you ended the call.
closing your laptop, you finally let emotions to control you. you finally let out frustrations and your tears. your memories with him no one can change or make disappear. you'll always know and remember him, but you'll never know what you two could be.
well, this was painful for me to read, im so sorry. i wish i was better. :( please, remember that english is not my first language and that i've created this account to fix my mistakes and my grammar. please do not insult me and make fun of me. love you <3
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onesidedradiostatic · 15 days
Note
Real talk
Im sooooo tired of Vox always being portrayed as the victim and Alastor the only one 100% responsible for their friendship falling apart
Did we all suddenly forgot that Vox is a terrible person too? He brainwashes his audience, he supports Val, he is willing to offer his lowest employees for Val to kill, he's also prob abusive to his employees as well, he stalks pretty much everyone, he has like 5 cameras inside Angel's dressing room, also it's like implied he's jealous of Angel because he gets Val's attention, him being jealous of Angel for being a victim of abuse is pretty messed up if you ask me. Oh he also told Sir Pentious to fucking kill himself and he also gets hard of seeing people in pain and get hurt! (Sure it was Alastor but still messed up)
" he looks so sad at the end of stayed gone when Alastor threatens him I feel so bad for him:(("
Really ? Well maybe if he had just kept his little hate boner for Al to himself instead of feeling to need to start publicly slandering him it wouldn't had happened. Just saying. Also I don't see how people feel bad for him. If anything he looks so extremely pathetic it's laughable I want to kick him
Okay this is kinda out of the point I want to make it's just many people who make him the victim seem to forget he's a terrible person so I just wanted to friendly remind everyone that he's as awful as Al ^^
Anyway
I think, we should acknowledge, that it's a complicated, and probably tragic, situation. What if, maybe, they're both as equal at fault for shit going down hills for their friendship. Vox because he doesn't respect others wishes and cannot take no for an answer, he prob tried forcing Al to move on with recent technology, which Al hates. ((His request to Al to join the Vees also prob meant catching up with the nowdays stuff and new technology, like the rest of them)) and Al because he was prob unnecessary cruel and brutal with his rejection.
I don't think Al was just using Vox like I've seen many people say. He allowed Vox to take a picture of them together. For Al to do that I think it confirms their friendship was genuine. "Ah but it's Alastor so that means it was fake cuz he's an evil manipulative bastard who only cares for him-" You're wrong, but also right lol. He's an evil manipulative bastard, but , he's also capable of genuine friendships with others (( did y'all forget Rosie lol? )). What I think happened is that, time passed , things changed. Vox became obsessed with new technology and tried to force Al to follow in, Al didn't like that, but instead of communicating with eachother and solving their problems by talking it out and respect eachother's wishes, they had an unnecessary argument and fight. They're both to blame for this, they're no victims in the situation and it's okay you can still sympathise with eithers side
Also people who make Al the villain for like not returning Vox's confession and feelings in most One sided Radiostatic videos/fics I've seen-- yikes.. I really hate that I have to literally say to PLEASE don't villiantise the aroace character for being aroace and rejecting confessions. It's extremely ace/arophonic (and yes I get to have a say to this, I'm a replused aroace videos/fics like this genuinely make me feel negative emotions) even if he was extremely cruel with his rejection -- villiantise the fact that he's an asshole- not his rejection.
yes I agree!! this is essentially a consolidation of points I've made before ksdlfglg
like yes, alastor's an absolute shithead but I think there are some people who forget that vox is also... not a good person. I don't think there's anything wrong with there being sympathetic aspects to vox but I feel like there's such a huge amount of fanwork where he's the only one portrayed sympathetically without showing his own bad points in their relationship, and I absolutely hate it when alastor is fully blamed for how vox is now and vox is seen as
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yeah
vox got pissy at a rejection, that's not being able to take no for an answer, that's incel behaviour LMAO
feel like there's something to be said about people feeling the need to sympathise with the one with unrequited feelings compared to the one who has to deal with someone expecting romance from them when they don't feel the same. does it have to do with society's expectations about romance that unrequited feelings are more sympathisable?
but yeah I am glad that at least the "complicated" part of the description of their relationship implies to me it won't be as simple as "vox was the poor victim and alastor was just using him", I think it is much more interesting if there's no clear victim and both were at fault in a way
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