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literaila · 2 months

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the brunch

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: satoru does not get jealous, just so everyone knows

a/n: (that previous statement was a lie) the brainrot is real

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year four.

it’s a bit unusual for the house to be this filled, especially this early in the morning.

chatter echoes throughout the space, loud exclamations, and secret whispers, all making up a terrible-sounding symphony.

megumi and tsumiki are playing some elaborate board game with onlookers on the coffee table, both of them smiling proudly.

satoru is trying to tidy up the many different plates and cups everyone's left lying around, laughing when shoko rolls her eyes at something he's just said.

and you're in the kitchen, talking with nanami like you haven't seen him in several years--it's been three weeks.

it's very strange for the four of you. to let anyone--not to mention a dozen people--intrude on your carefully planned out saturday mornings. to invite others into your world of burnt breakfasts and uncombed bedhead.

but here you all are, managing.

and you’d reminded satoru probably seventeen times—too many times, he thinks, with far too many knowing glances—that hosting was not something to be taken lightly (and that you weren’t going to help him ((both of you know that you are)).

but he doesn’t mind this.

the crowded house, or the many different phone calls he had to make about getting this party (which he swore wasn’t one) set up. the loud sounds or the inevitable cleanup he'll try to swindle his way out of.

it’s quite nice. actually, satoru is a little proud of his makeshift brunch, and the fact that everyone came, and everyone seems happy. he likes that he can barely hear his thoughts, that there's nothing important enough for him to think about anyway.

and honestly, with all of it going on, satoru should not be this discontented with the fact that you’re smiling at someone else.

he invited nanami because he knows that you miss him and that you’re too embarrassed to admit that. or too proud, maybe. too forgiving. and he knows that you wouldn’t have done it yourself, had he not gotten involved.

but still. should satoru really have to sit back and watch as you fawn over a man who wore a suit to casual brunch?

no, he should not, thank you.

"what's wrong with your face?" shoko asks him after the silence has drawn on for too long, sounding very uninterested.

satoru shakes his head, snapping out of his daze. "what?"

"you've got a weird look."

"no, i don't."

"it's like that time that you chugged the entire carton of expired milk someone left in the fridge."

"don't remind me," he says, trying to put on a theatrical wince, but he just ends up looking back at you, with a blank face.

there is no time for joking, or flamboyancy, or caring about anything else in the world.

shoko does the same, her eyes trailing where his are, watching as you tilt your head at nanami, laughing when he murmurs something.

in typical nanami fashion, his lips only twitch a little bit, but it's enough to tell that he's amused by whatever conversation you're having.

that he's got your full attention, and he gets to watch your eyes as they shift from one glance to another and--

shoko nods, looking back to satoru, who is trapped in his stare. chained down at the mere thought of you. "oh," she says, rolling her eyes.

satoru doesn't look away, but grunts in the form of a question.

"you're an idiot, you know that?"

he frowns. "what?"

her eyes are exasperated, and her smile is all-knowing. she has always alluded satoru, and his very short attention span. and he kind of hates her, at this moment, for distracting him.

"seriously," she scoffs at his perturbed face, "after a whole year of living basically in the same room, i thought that the two of you would finally get over it."

"who?" satoru asks, smiling confusedly. "get over what?"

"you. get over yourself. honestly, only you and y/n would raise two kids together and pretend like there's no intimacy in it."

"what?"' satoru repeats, dumbly.

"and, by the way," shoko tells him, sipping on her drink. "jealousy is not cute."

and then she walks away, like she's answered a single one of satoru's questions.

and he frowns, thinking about it.

because--no, there's no way she was talking about him--he shakes his head. where would she even have gotten that idea? there's--

no.

and it’s—it’s not jealousy. he laughs off that thought.

satoru gojo is the strongest. he's the one everyone looks to. he doesn't have anything to be jealous about.

and besides satoru knows that you don’t get enough time away from your discombobulated family. that your life revolves around them, and they around you.

and the two of you have talked—at length—about the fact that you’re both young, and neither of you should live the lifestyle of some middle-aged parents, with no way to connect with the people in your age group. the people that would’ve been your family, in some alternate universe.

satoru knows that you don’t carve out the things that you need without being asked to, that you get anxious about these types of occasions--he's watched it happen before, when you were forced into a corner at one exchange event the two of you shared, or when yaga took you all out to dinner, and you'd shrink yourself in your seat until someone noticed.

he's seen you try to make yourself smaller at the convenience of others, and as he's grown (he almost winces at the thought) satoru has sworn to himself that he'd keep you from any situation where that might be necessary.

so he shouldn’t--he doesn't--mind that you’re having a good time. he should be--is--happy with himself, for setting it up so you could, for planning it around you, and the kids. he should be preparing himself to gloat in your face about the fact that he thought of this, and he set it up all on his own.

god. he doesn't have anything to be jealous about.

but that doesn't change the fact that satoru can't really see beyond you, ten feet away from him, laughing at something that nanami said.

and maybe it's not the fact that you're talking to him, or that you're smiling at him like satoru wants to be smiled at, he thinks, but more that you don't act that way with him.

satoru is well aware of the grounds in your relationship, and he knows that you spend most of your days rolling your eyes at the obnoxious things that he says, trying to protect the children--and him--from the antics that you've all grown used to.

he's not jealous, but maybe he's a little bit annoyed that he hasn't seen you this easy, and light since you were still in school. since you were still younger than him, and still someone he could look down upon.

you cling to nanami like satoru clings to you, he realizes, sullenly. you smile and tease--if just the way your eyes crinkle means anything.

you grin at nanami like you're trying to irritate him. like you're the reckless one between the two.

and maybe it hurts satoru more just to know that you are the reckless one.

he'd lived with the two of you for three years. he'd experienced nanami's typical brooding--which, now, reminds him a lot of megumi, actually--and the way he'd think through everything. maybe a little bit too much, even.

satoru was always there to watch you giggle alongside the austere man, pull him out of whatever thought process was darkening the mood, and remind him that none of it was all that serious.

satoru knows--he knows--that you and him are similar. he knows that it's why he feels the way he does with you. that the way the two of you dance around your emotions, and say nothing that you truly mean is something to cherish, if also something to despise.

he's not jealous, but maybe it hurts satoru because he knows that you've never been able to truly not care, with him. that he takes up all of the ignorance one household can get, even without meaning to.

or maybe it's just been a long time since he got the chance to watch you interact with anyone else.

maybe he's just ridiculous, and he should go do something else before he thinks about this for too long. shoko is wrong, though, he thinks. he's definitely not jealous.

he's satoru gojo. he doesn't have anything to be jealous about.

but he's still watching when you shake your head at something nanami says, tapping him on the shoulder and excusing yourself while waving him on, still light and airy, eyes meeting satoru's with that same grin.

it's probably worse to know that it doesn't quite belong to him. that he's not the sole benefactor of it all.

"hey," you say, bumping into him on purpose when you come over, your hands wrapping around his forearm as you lean on him. "need help?"

"nah, i've got it," he finally looks away. he doesn't want to watch this.

but you're still grinning at him, trying to catch his eye--even with the sunglasses. "you're all alone over here," you coo, "i can help you clean up."

satoru snorts. "i thought you weren't going to help with anything."

"well, since i'm already here..." you drawl, beginning to pick up spare utensils, and napkins. all of the things he'd been too distracted to do.

you're humming as you do it, completely content with everything.

satoru tries not to grind his teeth at the fact that your mood is not because of him.

"how's nanami?" he asks, unprecendented, after a moment.

you shrug. "he's good. i guess the real world sucks too," you say it with a lilt, like there's an inside joke that satoru is missing.

he shakes his head, trying to keep his words civil. "the real world?"

"the corporate universe, and laws of reality, or whatever," you roll your eyes, and you sound exactly like him. "no curses or magic to liven things up."

"no monsters, you mean."

"or that," you smile at him, looking almost giddy.

satoru hums.

you put all of the trash you've collected on a serving dish, piling things up without a care in the world. and then you turn towards satoru, and he can feel your slight frown before he can see it. "you okay?" you ask him.

satoru freezes. "what?"

"is it getting to you? the brunch?"

"what? no, i'm fine," he tries to look at you like you're ridiculous, but his face feels stiff, and wrong, and far too happy for you.

"you look like your tongue is too big to fit in your mouth."

he sticks his tongue out, almost on command. "does it look any different?"

"hmm," you pretend to observe. "yeah. might want to see a doctor about it."

"noted."

"are you trying not to laugh at something? you can tell me if i have something on my face, you know."

satoru's smile is a bit easier at that, but he shakes his head anyway. he kind of wants to run away to his room--something he's learned from raising two children. "no, i'm just thinking."

you raise a brow.

satoru scowls. "what? you didn't think it was possible?"

"no, not really."

he shakes his head. he tries to turn away, scoffing like it's a joke (it's not), but your hand reaches for his bicep before he can.

"hey," you say to him. he turns back to you, and your smile, nose scrunched up as you lean in. "how are you?"

"busy. i have to go make sure there's enough ice in that bucket."

"i'll come with you," you say, even though you both know that he's lying.

"no. i'm sure nanami has more he wants to talk with you about."

"is that what this is about? nanami? are you mad at him, or something?"

"why would i be mad at him?"

"i don't know, satoru, your brain is a confusing thing," you tug on his hair just a little bit. "hey, c'mon. why're you upset?"

"i'm not upset."

satoru should be basking in your attention, but he can't quite bring himself to notice it. or that you spend every day with him--mostly without complaint--and never fail to laugh at something he says.

no, his thoughts are not very organized, at the moment.

"you've got your little angry pout on," you nudge his lips with a finger. "i think you've been spending too much time with megumi."

he grabs your hand, trying not to squeeze. "i'm fine. go hang out. you're not supposed to be helping me."

this time, you pout. "you don't want to spend time with me?"

he groans, throwing his head back. "i'm trying to be nice," he tells you. "you know, like how you're always telling me to?"

"ew," you say, giggling a little bit. "i don't like it."

he rolls his eyes.

"seriously, come hang out with me and the kids. we can beat them at charades, or something, again. you need a little pep in your step."

"what are you, my mom?" he deadpans but feels his heart twitch a little bit because you're still holding onto him.

"might as well be. take a break, satoru, i miss you."

you say it so easily and nonchalantly that satoru wants to pick you up and lock you in a little box, just so you can never talk to anyone but him again.

he stares at you, blinking beneath his glasses, feeling like you're doing all of this just to mess with him.

honestly, whiplash is a serious condition.

you smile at him, fluttering your eyelashes unknowingly, pouting at him a little bit, even through the smile.

and satoru's never been able to say no to you, so he lets you pull him with you, back to the kitchen, where you grab nanami too--to the dismay of satoru, of course. he tries not to glare.

and satoru chooses to ignore the discerning look that nanami sends him, and the fact that his arm tightens around your waist as you drag the two men along.

he's not jealous. god, it's just very loud in here.

somewhere several minutes earlier, when the two of you were standing just a little bit too close to each other, both of you pouting, looking like two children fighting over a toy--you had a couple of spectators.

shoko scoffs, shaking her head. "that's disgusting."

you're on your tiptoes, head tilted as you purr something to satoru. they can't see his eyes from twenty feet away, but they can all tell that they're stuck on you. glued, never to be torn away.

megumi looks at the woman, then follows her eyes to the two of you, blank-faced.

tsumiki giggles.

"we know," they both say, rolling their eyes.

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citrinae · 5 months

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caramel, salted.

sanji x reader

contents; you seek some free entertainment by venturing into the men's quarters. or: sanji is pathetic in two acts. explicit content, femdom, cunnilingus, facesitting, worship, smoking, sanji being his own warning. some fluff towards the end because i’m weak your honour. afab!fem!reader, wc: 2.6k, mdni. this gets lowkey unhinged at some point so proceed with caution i'm so sorry.

Here’s a thing you can tell about bored people: they’re handwork. More often than not you come to discover about yourself that boredom throws you into situations that would never cross your mind, disconnects you from yourself and moulds you anew as you witness the outcomes of your decisions unfold like a side-street circus act. And as much as you could agree with those who say that you shouldn’t put unfavourable behaviour down to some higher power with a weird sense of humour, neither could you deny the thrill, the restlessness, the refreshing sense of freedom you feel any time you let your body act on its own. Sometimes feeling bored leads you down to feeling creative.

Right now it finds you in the hallway towards the male quarters, leaned against a wall with your foot tapping uneasily against wooden flooring, a lingering “what if” pressed unsaid between crossed hands. What if, and why not, after all, when Sanji would collapse down to his knees at the smallest look you tossed in his direction. It irks you, truly, how you cannot get through the middle of a sentence without him complimenting—your thoughts, the tone of voice, ah, ma choue, apologies but your lips moved so beautifully around that word—or trying to get under your skin even more with his usual display of indiscretion. Like that time when he accidentally let it slide that he spends two hours a week siestaing by himself in the men's quarters.

But you’d lie if you said you haven’t been fueling it yourself, with elbow touches and furtive glances and leaning down his shoulder when you’ve had a few too many. Sanji unlocks something vicious in you that you cannot quite place, or simmer down, and despite it all, you’d often watch yourself with astonishment as you poked around for more.

It’s always so easy with him.

It infuriates you. It’s exciting.

Skipping a beat, you peer left and right for what you counted as the twentieth time before your steps lead you in front of an arch door at the end of the hallway. You knock. Once, twice, thrice, and you begin to hear some movement on the other side as you do. Loose, unbothered, “hurry up you freak”, Sanji trudges his step towards the door handle and peeks out.

“What,” he says, but swallows it soon after noticing you. He’s at his most casual in beige shorts and unbuttoned shirt, uncombed hair curtaining a fraction of his face. His voice chokes up in his throat while thinking of a thing to say to you.

His gaze feels heavy against you, and for a minute there you consider changing your mind. “There’s no way in hell I’d let you win this one”. Air piles up in your chest, stays there for a while. Yet your exhale is loud enough to make a decision for you. With a finger you start pushing him a few steps back, desperate to get inside without being seen, “Don’t say anything and lock this fucking door.”

He obliges, reaching the key to the room at a pace as fast as you expected of him. “It’s not the first time you lock yourself up in here, now isn't it?” You fold your arms as you further watch him rush the key into the lock. “You truly have no shame.”

“In my defense, sweetheart,” he leans against the door, his eyes glued to your figure. You soon notice he’s been holding his breath. “This time I’m not the one asking so enthusiastically to be alone in a room with you.”

You click your tongue. The room is dim and layered with wood that creaks the moment you press a footprint into it. Without another word you clutch Sanji by the collar of his shirt, glazing the surprise on his face with a kiss as you do. It’s a taste you relish, bittersweet with bergamot and the cigarettes he sucks on for dear life. Sanji moans against your lips, and it doesn’t get long until his hands are flattening all over you, too, as he lets you speed your way towards his hammock. Hands on hips, chest against chest. You rip a second whimper from him as your nails reach the skin under his shirt and dig themselves into his back. He kisses your jaw, buries his head into your neck. The low flicker of the hang lights and the sway of the ship blend with the staccato rhythm of your breathing; the salt in the air dissolves on the roof of your mouth like a broken promise.

When his tailbone hits the bedding, he dives a quivering hand for a smoke and lighter. A snap, flame eating through paper. But before he can even take his first drag, you’ve already snatched it from him, greedy and cruel and downright captivating, pushing it between your own lips with a self-indulgent hum.

Nicotine scrapes your lungs as you pull on the cigarette; ease yourself on one of his thighs. Sanji watches with his mouth open when you blow the smoke into his face.

“Darling, please,” he breathes out. “I—”

“I know,” you say, leaning at a finger’s length from his face. The tip of his cigarette is all stained with your lipstick and he drags on it like a starving man after you’ve brushed it back into his mouth. “You don’t deserve to be treated so kindly, you know that, right?”

Acknowledgement is a silent strain that forms inside his throat. He places a kiss on your collarbone. “I can make it up to you”, he says, lips climbing across your neck and up to your ear. “Please,” simple, breathless, taking your earlobe between his teeth. “I can treat you like a goddess, sweetheart, as long as you’d let me.”

“I was counting on that,” you retrieve the cigarette from his fingers. Seconds pass as you take another lungful and flick off the ashes into an improvised ashtray left on Sanji’s bed. “Now, lay on your back.” It’s an order, which he follows without protest. You know it’s a thing of instinct that he brings his forefinger to his nose while watching you slide off your pants and climb your way to his chest. Sanji earns his reassurance in the form of a smile and a peck on his bottom lip. “Good man.”

“Come here,” you hear him drawl, impatient, dragging your hips over his face. Without warning you begin to feel his tongue on the inside of your thigh and your breath hitches the moment he reaches your panties. At first, he doesn’t bother to take them off, his mouth delirious to enjoy your wetness through the fabric. Sanji turns out to be a quick learner, too, as he makes sure to press his tongue against the spots which have you sounding sweeter, tightening your thighs harder around him, and he seems to savour each moment he gets to spend entertaining you. He moans against your panties when your fingers bury themselves into his hair to guide his movements.

Heat builds up in your stomach. It’s not enough.

“You’re teasing me,” leaves you faintly, slowly. “I want to feel you for good, Sanji, c’mon.”

And you don’t know if it’s the sound of your voice, or simply the raw, unrehearsed ache to be touched which has been manoeuvring your movements ever since you stepped into this room, but Sanji is happy to further do your bidding if that means he’ll get to witness more. Fuck, and what a sight you are, rose-cheeked, teary-eyed, straddling his face with both the grace and urgency of a divine calamity; he’d never learn how to say no to you.

Pulling your panties aside, Sanji is gentle as he starts stroking a finger inside you. His tongue readies itself at your clit when he heaves, “Like this, darling?” Your hum is soft, enough. He leaves a sultry kiss on your clit before taking a minute to admire the sight. “So beautiful.” There’s a strange affection in his voice that urges you to turn your head towards the ashtray where your cigarette sits now, discarded and forgotten, but you cannot help but yelp again when his tongue rolls so greedily against you, revering you, drinking from your core as if he’d been eating from Dionysus' hand.

Even more than he enjoys hearing you, all dazed and unfocused, Sanji adores losing himself to the taste of your slick, adores it tenfold when your hand finds the side of his cheek encouraging him to keep up, “Should’ve had you sooner like this, huh. Starved and pretty under my pussy.” You start your own pace as you speak through shreds of sound, hips chasing your release in wet and messy bounces against Sanji’s face. “You must be thinking a good lot of me.”

Sanji lets out a heavy exhale. He did, in fact, shamelessly, pathetically, dream of this moment with you, a little after you’d joined the crew. Not once did he find himself jerking off to the thought of you, a smoky smile, your eyes on him, sweet nothings like apple and cinnamon into his ear before he’d smother you in kisses and eat you up. Taking in your perfume as he’d bend you over the counter of the kitchen, a halo forming round your hair where the light would hit just right. And a good number of nights passed with him trying to assess which flavour would work best with your voice while hanging from the sounds of his name.

“Fuck, fuck,” it’s ragged against you, sending shivers to your core. With your body swinging in the dimness of his room, Sanji feels like he hasn’t been weaker in his life, and it only takes him a meaner pull at his hair and a look at your bitten lips to come right here and now. He continues lapping at you through his orgasm, the sensation he coaxes from you as he does allowing you no time for whatever tongue-in-cheek comment you might’ve come up with in similar circumstances.

You settle on his name instead, and it melts on your tongue as his grip tightens on your hips, bringing you closer and closer to your edge. When you get there, your voice shudders on a deep vowel that you try to bite down into the palm of your hand. Wailed and open-mouthed, Sanji wastes no time as he licks against the dampness spilling over him, being taken through bliss a second time now with the image of your crescendo leaving electric shocks throughout his body.

The hammock is rocking silently under your figures. A moment passes as you stare down at Sanji’s lips, reddened and coated with your slick, parting for short breaths of air. He lulls your skin with a last peck on your thigh before dragging himself from your legs and reaching for the corner of your mouth.

“My compliments to the chef,” he says, his voice taking to fragranced. “This was exquisite.”

“That’s because you haven’t tasted today's main course,” taking his chin between thumb and forefinger. “Would you be interested in trying, sir?”

Sanji’s goatee is still wet from eating you out. The corner of his lips hitch an inch higher on his face as he fixes you, languid and hot. “Only if you promise to kiss across the rim for me, sweetheart.”

ii.

“Caramel,” his voice starts through a cloud of smoke.

You’ve been laying together in his bed, legs curled and shoulders peeking out bare from the covers. The room is hot and your eyes heavy and there’s a pillow slung on the floor beneath you shadowing the memory of minutes ago.

You shift your head to meet his eye. “Care to articulate for us lesser earthlings, Sanji?”

Sanji lets a couple of seconds pass as he ashes his cigarette into the tray. “That,” he explains, and it tugs a brow on your face when he does. “Melted sugar. Not as easily handled as some would think. But it’s sweet, easy to fall for, and really sticks to you afterwards.”

“You’re such a dork,” you find yourself saying with a childish giggle and a thumb swiped across Sanji’s cheek.

“Or helplessly charmed by you,” Sanji adjusts, finding your hand and stroking it into his own with a softness that brings heat into your cheeks. You leave it there.

The door handle jostles on the other side of the room. You freeze. There’s a thud at the door, and later a hurricane of them.

“Open up you stupid pervert!” It’s Zoro. His voice is all steam and gravel as it bursts through the silence. “Told you last time if you can’t keep it in your pants at least be a man like the rest of us and own it.”

Three swords lean untouched against a wall you just now come to pay attention to. You throw Sanji a look. He slaps his forehead, hisses under his breath, “Fucking shit swords.”

The knocks continue.

“Sanji he can’t see me like this,” you whisper, hurling yourself under the covers.

“You with someone there, louse?” Zoro’s voice.

“Storage room, dear, go. You’ll be fine there,” Sanji searches for you between cushions. Then, to Zoro, “Have you mismatched your pills again, mosshead? Go see Chopper for a check-up.”

“I’m gonna mismatch your guts soon enough if you keep trying to be funny with me,” pressure on the door handle, flurry of pounds, a kick.

With a short tilt of his head, Sanji points at the ladder leading below deck, and this time you decide to listen to him, jumping from the hammock and accepting the clothes he’s picked up for you as you rush towards the storage room. The place is dark and damp and you can hear the wood shriek above your head as Sanji works some steps about the men's room and to what sounds to be his locker. “Curious to see you try,” caustic, dismissive. He throws something over the hatch you’ve descended through.

You put your shirt back on. Above you, a key is slung into the lock. Boots bite into the floor soon after.

“Now,” Sanji again. “Was it that hard to wait? Bad-tempered bastard.”

“Fuck off,” Zoro snaps.

“Understandable.”

A pause.

“The hell are you doing here?” he adds on; he sounds confused.

“Wardrobe decluttering. You’d use one,” Sanji drones.

Zoro isn’t buying it. “And you locked the door for that.”

Silently your body rolls through your panties, your pants.

“Maybe I didn’t want you guys’ dirty boots on my wardrobe?”

Shoes, "no sound, I beg."

Zoro says nothing.

Your lungs tilt with the lack of air.

Sound of metal against metal.

“Got everything you needed?” Sanji presses on.

More steps. Door creaking, “You’re weird.”

And he’s gone.

The sigh that escapes you then is loose, deep. You take the moment to press your eyelids close for an outline of your day.

Sometimes feeling bored leads you down to feeling creative. Other times, it leaves you with a ripple in your chest down the ladder to the storage room of the Thousand Sunny.

When Sanji opens the hatch for you, it’s with a wide, pleasant smile, and you don’t think twice before latching onto his hand to help yourself up. “This time. I’ll let you have this, for now.”

Staring at the piles of clothing scattered about the room, “Next time we gotta be more careful with the rendezvous point.”

Sanji anchors to the most essential part.

“Next time?” he leans back, hand dug into the pocket of his slacks, his heartbeat dashing off his eyes.

“Yeah,” you catch yourself saying. Your smile is one-sided as you step forward, turning towards the door. You stop for a minute to run a touch across his cheek with the back of your hand. “Be nice and you’ll get another after that, and another.”

Sanji knows then, lifting his hand to his face, watching your hips sway their way down the hallway, that he’s been caught under your spell, fully, permanently, and he’ll do anything in his power to assure you he’s a place to return to.

#one piece x reader #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #one piece smut #sanji smut #mdni

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riordanness · 3 months

Text

champagne problems — [l.laurence]

wordcount: 3.2K

warnings: angst

requested: no

a/n: i really love this fic, i spent a super long time on it and it took me ages but i love it so i hope you love it too <3

“Thank you,” I tell my dance partner, another nameless, tasteless, personality-less boy I will never see again. I smile and curtsy, and turn away, as I do every time. No one will ever fill the hole in my heart the way that he did.

I spot Amy talking to Fred, and weave my way towards them. I don’t know anyone else by anything more than name, and it’s awkward. It’s stiff, it’s strange, and it’s uncomfortable. Trying to make friends with these men, men who couldn’t care less about my feelings or my ambitions; just my pretty face and my willingness to marry. Once they discovered I didn’t have my heart in that; at least not anymore, they lost all interest in me.

“Hey, y/n,” Amy greets me, offering me a glass of what I think is champagne.

“Thank you,” I tell her, and take a sip.

“How are you enjoying the party?” Fred addresses me.

I shrug, and try to smile. “It is alright.”

Amy has a sympathetic look on her face. She knows me a little bit too well. All the March sisters do, as well as… him. He knew me better than anyone. Or at least that’s what I thought.

“Laurie!” I laughed, giggling so hard I couldn’t even escape him. His arms caught me tightly, poking and tickling my waist. I squirmed, but the pure joy of being with him was almost overwhelming.

“What?” he teased. “What’s wrong, y/n? Hmm?”

“S-Stop!” I gasped for air, playfully hitting him on the arm. Well, it was a pretty hard punch, actually.

“Ow! Y/n!” Laurie released me and winced, grabbing his arm.

“I’m sorry!” I tried to stop laughing.

He stared at me for a heartbeat, and just as my smile faded, he then grinned. “Gotcha.”

His happiness was infectious. I was smiling again, laughing again, purely and completely content to live forever in this moment.

“Y/n.”

Amy’s voice is a warning, and my brain only hears it a minute after I should. “Hmm?” I ask, glancing up at her. She’s used to my daydreaming, so I assume she’ll just repeat her comment, but Amy isn’t looking at me. She’s staring sternly at the staircase at the entrance of this ballroom.

I turn, and there’s a half moment of anticipation. Who has arrived?

Then, I see him. His wrinkled white shirt, untied bow tie. The glass of alcohol held lazily in his hand. His unruly curls are even more uncombed and unkempt than usual. His eyes are light with mirth and dull from the drink. Two women are fawning over him from either side, and he’s drinking up the attention more eagerly than the champagne.

Laurie.

My breath catches in my throat, and I try to swallow the sudden lump there. “Ah, I see.”

Fred puts a hand on my shoulder, a protective, big-brother gesture. I really appreciate him. No matter how many times I end up basically third-wheeling him and Amy when they go out, he never minds. Amy has told him all about what Laurie did to me, so he decided to step in and try to help fill that hole.

And I love him for it, but no one will ever be capable of making me whole the way Laurie did. And I’m not sure if anyone ever will be able to.

I take a cautious sip of champagne, watching as Laurie drapes himself on a lounge on the opposite side of the room. The girls with him sink to their knees on either side of his body, fawning over the boy.

I don’t care how much expression is visible on my face right now; I can’t do anything but stare in a mix of disgust, disappointment and utter disbelief.

Then, he sees me. His eyes clear a little, they get wide and surprised all of a sudden. He attempts to sit up a little straighter.

I can’t watch anymore. I turn and shove my glass unceremoniously in Fred’s hands, and walk out of the room as quickly as I can manage, heading to the little moonlit garden path I know awaits me outside.

I laugh as Jo tells me about her plans for a new story.

“I want to turn this one into a play,” she adds. “And you should be in it! The main character is just the perfectest part for you to play, y/n.”

I roll my eyes teasingly. “First of all, ‘perfectest’ isn’t a word. And second, you know I don’t act. I’m not going to be any good!”

Jo shrugs. “Won’t know until you’ve tried it.”

I don’t answer, my gaze sliding back to all the dancers on the floor. I wish someone would ask me to dance. But I know no one here other than the March girls. And I can’t exactly dance with Jo. She has a burnt dress and isn’t allowed to dance. Not that she minds; she says she’d rather eat a stick than dance with any of the boys here.

Then, I see a boy with dark curls and pretty eyes staring at me from across the room. I tilt my head, and give a little wave and a half-smile.

He returns it immediately and makes his way over towards us.

“Hello there,” he greets me. “I’m Laurie.”

Jo looks at him. “You’re the Laurence boy. You live near us.”

Laurie nods his head at her. “Miss March.”

“Please. Call me Jo. Everyone does.”

“Jo.”

Laurie then glances at me. “I don’t think I know you.”

I hold my hand out to him. “Y/n, Mr Laurie. I’m friends with the Marches.”

He smiles again, and it’s so pretty my chest hurts. Is this what falling in love is like? Is it supposed to be painful? Supposed to feel like you’re being ripped apart and glued together all at the same time?

I lean myself on the wall outside, my head against the cool stone bricks. My head is pounding, my temples aching.

I didn’t think that seeing him again would have such a strong reaction from me, but apparently even my heart rate still hurts because of him.

I can hear footsteps, but I don’t have the energy to hide my distress from anyone right now. Hopefully whoever it is will just walk by and leave me be.

“Y/n?”

The sound of Laurie’s voice will forever bring me the biggest rush of emotions in the world, but where it used to invite happiness and joy, now entices fear and anxiety and anguish.

I squeeze my eyes shut tight. “Hello Laurie.” I’m surprised at how even my voice sounds. I expected it to come out shaky and distant.

“Hey.” He sounds unsure of what he’s doing. “What’s happening with you?”

My eyes are still closed, and I still have my head against the rocky wall. I shrug one shoulder. “Nothing much, thanks for asking.”

There’s three heartbeats of silence.

Then: “How are you?”

I sigh, open my eyes. “Laurie. Why are you doing this?”

His eyes are unreadable. “Doing what?”

“You know what.”

“Y/n, I…” His voice fades. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

I give him a hard look. “Sorry? Laurie, this isn’t about what happened all those years ago. I’m over it; I’m over you.” I was lying through my teeth, but I refused to give him the satisfaction that knowledge would bring.

I sigh. “What are you doing, Laurie?” I wave my hand at him helplessly. “Drinking, probably gambling again? Fawning over random girls? Laurie, you’re better than this. And you know it, too. You’re throwing your life away, and I…” I swallow. “As your friend, I can’t just sit and watch. You need to stop this. Go home, go see your grandfather. Stop destroying the little boy he used to be so proud of.”

I turn, and walk away, leaving Laurie out there in the moonlight.

I don’t breathe until I reach Fred and Amy again. They’re laughing and drinking champagne together, but when they see me, the conversation dies.

“Hey, you okay?” Amy asks.

I try to nod, then tears glisten in my eyes and I have to drop. I shake my head, meeting my friend’s eyes. “I’m gonna go home,” I tell her.

She nods in understanding, her eyes searching mine, desperate for answers.

“I told him what he needed to hear,” I say quickly. “But—he still doesn’t know how much it hurts. And it hurts just to see him. It hurts deep in my soul. I—I can’t—“ I have to force myself to take a deep breath, sobs building in my chest.

I leave, Amy’s hand squeezing mine as I go.

I lie on my back, staring at the ceiling as ‘Aunt’ March chatters about how Fed and Amy are soon to be engaged, so I really must hurry and marry soon.

“Are you even listening to me, y/n?” she asks sharply.

I sit up straight in an instant. “Uh—yes of course, Ms March.”

“How many times must I ask you to call me Aunt,” she sighs. “You’re practically family at this point, my dear.”

I smile. “Alright, Aunt March.”

“Very good. Now, as I was saying…”

I zone back out as she talks, my mind drifting instead to Laurie. I truly had thought I was over him, or at least pretty much so. Rather, the moment I saw him, I thought I might explode. Seeing his smile, his eyes, the way he stands, it made all the memories just come flooding back.

“Laurie—“ I call, walking into his room one pretty Saturday morning. “Get up lazy bones. We’ve got things to do!”

The only response is a groan from underneath Laurie’s covers. I sit on the edge and poke at him.

“Come on!” I beg. “We’re gonna be late, you know.”

Laurie’s curls peep out. “Late for what?” he asks groggily.

I resist the urge to giggle. “Late for our adventures, of course. We have a walk planned, and you promised me you’d teach me fencing this weekend, and you have to keep that promise. It was a pinky promise.”

Laurie groans again. “I don’t want to get up, y/n.”

“What? Even to spend time with me?”

“Yes. Go away.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, Theodore Laurence, not until you get—up—“ I poke him in the shoulder twice.

“Y/n!” he whines.

I laugh. “Yes, Laurie?”

He sticks his head fully out now, and looks at me. “You’re my best friend, and I love you, but I am not getting up yet.”

I ignore the flutter in my chest and grab his arm, pulling him hard. “Yes you are! I promised your grandfather I’d force you to exercise while he’s gone, and I intend to keep my promise.”

“Fine,” Laurie relents. He allows me to drag him out of bed, and after he’s dressed, the two of us head off into our favourite trail in the woods.

My heart hurts, and my head hurts, and my eyes hurt. I want to get up, go for a walk or something, but I can’t find it in me to do so. So I simply close my eyes and continue to lay face-up along the foot of my four-poster bed.

It doesn’t seem like long at all before someone is tapping my shoulder.

“Sorry, Amy,” I mumble, eyes still closed. “Did I drift off?”

“It’s… not Amy,” a quiet voice answers.

I sit up straight immediately, and come face to face with none other than Laurie Laurence.

“Hi.” He almost says it like a question.

I frown a little, unsure of the nature of this unexpected visit. “Hello, Laurie.”

He winces a little. “Look, you don’t have to say anything. You said plenty last night.”

“You needed to hear it,” I retort.

“I know.” He lets out his breath. “I’ve been thinking, all night, about what you said. You were right, you were right about all of it. I am wasting my life, I’m ruining everything because of one stupid mistake that unravelled it all. And–and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I’ve hurt you, in all the ways that I have. You don’t deserve a friend like me; you never did.”

He stands to go, and for a heartbeat, I think about letting him. But then,

“Laurie!”

I see him, walking along the street as I pass on the other side. I immediately break away from Jo, who I was escorting to town. “I'll see you later, Jo.”

She smiles knowingly and shoos me off. “Bye, y/n/n.”

“Laurie!” I call again, running to catch up with him.

At the sound of my voice, he half-turns, double-takes, and then his face breaks into a wide grin, the way he always saves just for me. “Y/n!”

I run right until I’m in his arms. “I missed you,” I sigh into his hair. “When did you get back?”

I feel him smiling. “Only just this morning. I was going to surprise you, but you beat me to it, tesoro mio.”

“Laurie, you know I don’t speak Italian,” I laugh, pulling away slightly to look at him. “I’m not the one who just went to Italy for a year. And don’t use it without telling me the meanings; it’s mean! I never know what you’re saying.”

Laurie has a faint smirk on his face. “Sorry, tesoro mio.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love me,” he replies easily, and oh, how badly I want to agree with him out loud. Yes, I wanted to say. Yes, I’m head over heels in love with you.

So I do say it. “Yes,” I say, “I do.”

Laurie blinks at me. “What?”

My mouth opens a little, but for a second, nothing comes out. “I do love you,” I say slowly.

Laurie stares at me. “Why?”

“Everything, Laurie,” I sigh. “You’re kind, and beautiful, and you understand me better than even I can. You’re always there to cheer me up when I need that, and when I’m sad, you’re all too happy to give me your shoulder to cry on. You always know exactly what I’m thinking, and feeling, and you always know the right thing to say. You don’t mind my silly ramblings, or fantasies, and you don't care what anyone thinks of you. You’re always the person I want to be around; Laurie, you make me so happy. I love you, Laurie Laurence, and I think I always have.”

There’s silence for a minute, just a heartbeat too long to feel comfortable. All I can hear are the birds in the trees above us, but their songs sound alarming.

Laurie looks away, then at the sky, and finally back at me. His tongue swipes his lower lip in a way that I know is nervous.

“Y/n,” he says, and his tone instantly crushes me. “I—that’s extremely sweet and beautiful and I love you too, but…”

My heart sinks. “But you love Jo.” A part of me had always known, but I’d tried to convince myself otherwise. Clearly, my instinct had been correct.

“I can’t help it!” Laurie tries to justify himself, but he has no reason to. He can’t help who he’s fallen in love with, just as I cannot help falling in love with him. “I love you, y/n, I truly do. You’re my best friend… but the love I feel for Jo, it’s different. And you’re not her. You will never, and can never be her.”

I feel like someone has ripped my heart from my chest, stepped on it, thrown it into a frozen lake, and shoved it back inside of me. All I can manage is a nod.

“You should probably tell her then,” I whisper, and I turn to go. I can’t bear looking at him any longer.

That was the last time I’d seen Laurie for a very long time. I’d left for Europe with Amy, leaving Laurie and Jo to have a life together, if that’s what they wanted. Turns out Jo never saw him in that way, and he was rejected by her later that very same day.

I was still amazing friends with all the March girls, and I still cradled my childhood memories close to my heart.

But my heart has never healed. Every time Laurie Laurence was on my mind, it stung like only yesterday. Any day that a memory of those long walks, the silly fights, the hugs and dances, the inside jokes and dumb decisions came to me, I’d break down and cry.

“Laurie!”

He stops at the sound of my voice, turns, and his green eyes meet mine. He stares, waiting for me to speak.

“Don’t leave,” I say softly. “Please. Don’t make the mistake I did.”

He turns to fully face me now. “What mistake?”

I let out a breath. “Running. When someone needed me most.”

His eyes clear in understanding. I missed this about him, the way he’d always know exactly what I meant by everything. I never had to explain anything, because Laurie knew my heart. He always understood what I was trying to say, no matter what.

“Y/n—“

I hold my hand to stop his words. “Don’t say anything,” I tell

him. “You don’t have to. You have never, and will never, be under any obligation to return the feelings I have for you. That’s not your fault, and it wasn’t back then, and I’m sorry that I dropped you out of my life after that day. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when Jo turned you down, I’m sorry I never replied or even read your letters. I—“

“You never read my letters?” Laurie’s voice sounds broken.

I stop. “No. I—I didn’t.”

Laurie looks down, his forehead scrunching together. “No wonder…” he mutters. “You… you had no idea.”

Now it’s my turn to frown. “No idea about what?”

He glances up, his eyes searching mine, for what I don’t know. “I wrote to you, y/n. Dozens of times. I poured my heart out into those letters. I told you how much I missed you, how badly I was hurting over what I’d said to you that day. I—I told you how Jo helped me to realise that it really was you all along. I’ve been in love with you since I first met you, y/n, and I never stopped. I just didn't realise it. But when you never wrote back, I assumed that was your answer.”

“Oh, Laurie,” I whisper, tears in my voice. “I’m so sorry.” A million thoughts are racing through my mind, but one rises above the others.

“Is it still true?”

He hesitates. “That I love you?”

I nod once. “Yeah.”

“It will always be true.”

And for the first time in a long while, I feel at home again.

#laurie laurence #little women #laurie x reader #laurie laurence x reader #theodore laurence #theodore laurence x reader #little women fanfiction #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet

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ckret2 · 4 months

Text

On chapter 30 of The Writer Uses Misleading Graphics To Trick You Into Looking At This Fic About Human Bill Being The Shack's Prisoner: Summerween part 2! Bill wheedles Mabel into helping him make a costume. Mabel wheedles Bill into spilling some of his preciously-guarded secret backstory. Ford is kind of in awe.

Also there's like 4.5 drawings in this chapter. They're all very silly drawings.

####

Bill wouldn't tell Mabel what his costume was—"I want to see who can guess it"—but all it needed was a brown bedsheet, a long red wig, cardboard (to be drawn upon), and flip-flop sandals.

The bedsheet was the easiest to acquire. Dipper's barely-worn brown sandals were just slightly too big for Bill but Mabel helped tie them on with yarn. the shack's cardboard supplies were still depleted from making Bill's triangle mask, but they could make do with paper and popsicle sticks. Mabel didn't have a red wig but she did have a blonde wig and red markers. Since Bill was, by his own reporting, terrible at drawing, Mabel offered to do the fancy artwork if Bill did the tedious task of recoloring the wig. He claimed he'd feel like a mortician putting makeup on a car wreck victim, but nevertheless accepted the deal, and they settled in around the living room table to get to work.

"So just a bunch of houses, right?" Mabel asked, starting on the first drawing.

"Ancient Greek-looking houses," Bill said. "So, marble and columns. Don't think too hard about the details—this is a 21st century American costume holiday, not a historical reenactment. You can slap columns on anything and call it 'Greek' and every human in town will buy it."

"Do ancient Greek houses have chimneys?"

"No," Bill said. "But adding one would be funny."

Mabel considered that, weighed up the value of historical accuracy against entertainment value, and decided giving one house a chimney would be funny. She gave the whole house a thick black outline in marker, and pulled out crayons in black, white, and whale blue to quickly add some light shading to the marble.

Mabel didn't think she'd ever seen Bill focus so hard or so quietly on anything the way he did on coloring that old wig red. He was giving it more attention than he did his own hair: while his golden locks were a tangled, uncombed, soggy mass shoved dismissively over his shoulders, he was dying the cheap wig (and his fingertips) strand by plastic strand with the bright-eyed morbid fascination of a third grader studying a pack of ants as they disassembled a bird's corpse.

This was the longest she'd been around Bill without conversation—usually, you couldn't even walk into a room without him immediately chattering at you like the motion-activated animatronics at the Summerween store. It was hard to think around him. Bill didn't give you room to think.

What did Mabel think about Bill?

He was right, she was still mad about the mall. No—mad wasn't the right word—mad was his word—she was scared. She'd never really stopped being scared of him, if she was honest with herself. But everything he'd done that day, from tricking her into trapping herself to reminding her of almost dying, had just reinforced why she should fear him.

But. She thought he felt bad about it. And she didn't think she'd ever seen him feel bad about anything before.

Maybe that meant her experiment was working. Maybe he was changing. Yeah, he was still scary—but he was Bill Cipher, he had a lot of scariness to work through. He was moving in the right direction, and she wanted to encourage that.

He hadn't apologized for the mall; but, since he'd tried to make up for it at the time, and that was a sort of apologetic action, Mabel decided she could tentatively forgive him for that day—provided he continued to improve. Put him on forgiveness probation. And that meant they were on friendly speaking terms again.

Which was good, because the quiet was starting to get uncomfortable. She surveyed her art for something they could talk about.

After a couple of as-historically-accurate-as-she-could-imagine houses, Mabel had started varying up the designs by redesigning houses she could remember off the top of her head with columns and white marble. She'd made a stately marble Mystery Shack, and a columned-covered doppelgänger of the house with the terraced yard across the street at home, and then she'd decided to make a Greek-ish version of her own home. "Hey Bill. Have you ever seen my house?"

"In person? No. But it came up from time to time in you kids' dreams, so whether I've seen it depends on how accurate you think your dreams are," he said. "It has less plants and more windows in your brother's dreams than in yours."

Mildly disturbing answer, but not disturbing in the direction she'd expected. "What! You mean you haven't haunted our neighborhood or anything? I don't believe it."

"Do you think I spend all my time stalking random humans? Don't flatter yourself."

"Well, seeing it in dreams isn't good enough!" Mabel pulled over a blank paper. It was hours until trick-or-treaters showed up, they had a little time to waste. "I'll draw it!"

"Wow, really?" Bill looked up from his wig. "You're not worried about letting the big bad triangle see your house?"

"Come on! You already know where I live, right?"

Bill immediately rattled off, "1337 Fairview Drive, Piedmont, California, on the northeast side of the street where it's less hilly."

"Exactly—you creep. So who cares if you know what it looks like, too?"

A square, sky blue house with two stories and a triangular roof; a big living room window on the left, a covered door on the right, three windows on the second floor, and a chimney. Mabel had drawn her home plenty of times—but doing it for a friend (?) was different from doing it for a teacher or a librarian, and she put extra effort into the rose bushes under the living room window. She added her and Dipper's smiling faces in the upstairs windows and Waddles's face downstairs in the living room.

"Waddles sleeps in the kitchen, but he basically owns half the yard to wallow in. This is my room, and here's Dipper's—I get three windows, but Dipper has the biggest window and a bigger room, so it's fair, no matter what he says—"

"Oh, you two have separate rooms now?" Bill was leaning halfway around the table and craning his neck to see the image right side up.

"Uh, yeah? Since we were ten?"

Loftily, Bill said, "I don't know how you'd expect me to know that. You both still dream about sharing a room."

Mabel paused and tried to remember how often she dreamed about Dipper in his new room. Sometimes she woke and was still disoriented to find her bed in the middle of the room instead of against one wall with Dipper's on the other side. "Huh."

She added a few more details—the front steps, the gate, the shingles. (Bill watched nervously as she pulled out the gray crayon to color the driveway—but she didn't notice how it had been tampered with.) She talked about her home, and in turn Bill told her weird things, like that Dipper often dreamed of monsters coming out of the fridge. When she finished, she autographed her name with a star on the "i" in Pines, offered it over grandly, and said, "Here, you can keep this!"

Bill accepted it without the customary effusive gratitude with which one ought to accept a generously-gifted original artwork from a 13-year-old prodigy. "What am I gonna do with it?"

"That's your problem!"

"Fair enough!" He checked his leggings for pockets and, when he didn't find any, set the page on the table by his elbow.

Offering accepted. As Bill resumed coloring his wig, Mabel picked up another piece of paper and got to work on the next columned house. "What does your house look like?"

Bill stopped dead, looked straight at her, and said, "My what?"

What was weird about the question? "Your house! Or whatever you lived in before you came here. You came from somewhere before you tried to invade Earth, right? You didn't just pop out of somebody's dream."

Bill laughed. "Yeah I did!"

"Bill."

"4500 years ago the construction workers of Egypt had a shared nightmare about the immense tombs they'd spent the last century building—"

"Biiiill."

"—and when they awoke they found the combined psychic energy of their terror had spawned a sleep paralysis demon more powerful than Ra! So then I ate their souls—"

"Seriously, Bill."

"I'm being so serious right now."

Mabel rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine! I get it. You're embarrassed." She shook her head and returned to coloring.

She felt the combined spiritual energy of hundreds of imaginary Egyptian construction workers beating down on her face from Bill's eye. Like a laser. "'Embarrassed'?"

"Because you don't have a house," Mabel said. "I think it's okay, you don't need to be embarrassed! I don't think you're a loser or anything. It's just kind of sad—"

Bill snatched up a blank piece of paper. "You want a house? Fine! I'll show you a house." He grabbed up an orange crayon, muttering, "It'll put your stupid overpriced shed in California to shame— Where's the ruler—?" Mabel tried not to grin.

For several minutes, he was perfectly silent. Mabel glanced over to see him coloring with three crayons at once, only for him to shove a hand in her face and snap, "No peeking."

Mabel got through two more drawings before Bill slapped down his paper over Mabel's. "There! How about that?!"

She looked at the drawing, which Bill had helpfully labeled "Party Central!" in red crayon. A great stone pyramid so dark brown it was nearly black, with bricks outlined in brilliant gold and molten orange and fiery red, and a sharp multicolored X hovering above it—

Mabel gave Bill a flat look. "This isn't your house, this is your Torture Temple."

"The what? Hey, is that really what people are calling it?! It's not the Torture Temple, it's the Fearamid!"

Despite herself, Mabel burst out laughing. "You named it the 'Fearamid'?!"

"It's a pyramid and humans fear it! It's genius. Portmanteaus make great names."

"What's a portmanteau."

"It's a word made from the unholy Frankensteinian fusion of two other words. Like getting 'electrocute' from 'electricity' and 'execute'!"

"Or 'romcom'?"

"Yeah, or that."

Mabel considered the drawing. "If you want to scare less people, you could call this your Bill-ding."

"HA! Oh, I'm saving that."

"Anyway, this isn't where you live," Mabel said. "You were there for like a week tops!"

"Yeah, before your great-uncle killed me. I'd still be living there if it weren't for you jerks." He stuck out his tongue.

"Come on, Bill. I showed you my house. Draw where you grew up or something!"

"What's wrong with the Fearamid?"

Mabel crossed her arms. "Why don't you want me to see your real house?" She raised her eyebrows at him.

Bill opened his mouth to protest, but then stopped, a thoughtful look on his face. "Eh, you know what? Why not. If you're gonna be so ridiculous about such a silly thing." He pulled over another piece of paper. "But if I don't have enough time to finish coloring this wig, you have to help me."

"Fiiine." She returned to her own drawings as Bill got back to work.

After a long silence—longer than he'd taken to draw and color the Fearamid—he said, "Okay, done. Here." And he pushed over the paper with one dismissive finger.

She eagerly accepted the drawing—and frowned. There was nothing on the page except for a straight flat black line, interrupted by three line segments of bright blue and a cluster of red and green dashes. "What is this?"

"Where I grew up," Bill said, innocently, already back to coloring the wig. Mabel could see his mischievous smirk. "As seen from the front. Just like your drawing of your house. So we're even now."

Mabel's brows furrowed as she stared at the page in confusion. "What...?"

"You do know I'm from the second dimension, right? A universe that's flat like a piece of paper. I figured Sixer would've told you all about it by now." Bill picked up the drawing and held it between his and Mabel's faces, so that, viewed from the edge, all Mabel could see of the paper was a thin flat line. "What do you think the second dimension looks like to somebody in the second dimension?"

Mabel took the paper back, looked at the underwhelming flat line representing the front of Bill's house, and said, "I hate you."

"We had the prettiest roses in the park," Bill said, pointing at the red dashes. "Crayon really doesn't do them justice."

"Shut uppp."

Bill laughed at her; but then, to her surprise, he said, "Okay, all right, I guess a big fancy 3D creature like you can't understand the nuances of two-dimensional sight. So, here." He flipped over the page. "Top down view."

The back of the page had what looked like a floorplan. A narrow room on the left, a large L-shaped room, a tiny room nestled into the L's top right corner, and a medium room on the right. Little shapes filled the rooms—furniture of some kind?—but she didn't see anything immediately recognizable like a top-down bed or table and chairs. Green and red spirals dangled off the bottom of the floorplan.

"I'm no Edward Bishop Bishop, but it gets the idea across," Bill said.

She studied all the strange little figures in fascination, looking for anything familiar. She pointed at a few shallow bowls filled with blue sticking out of the wall between the L-shaped room and the tiny room. "Are these sinks?"

"Hey, you're pretty sharp. Sinks and the tub."

"So the little room's the bathroom."

"Right again." Bill pointed out the rooms on the floor plan. "Master bed's on the right, kitchen and living room in the middle—and you found the bathroom—and second bed's on the left. That was my room! The one with a million books," he pointed at a wall with countless tiny multicolored lines coming off of it. "I was a big reader as a kid. I've always been an intellectual."

"Who was in the other bedroom?"

"I never really went in there, who cares." Bill made a dismissive gesture. "I think there were some desks and stuff in there too, but I didn't bother to draw them since I never used them." He picked up a yellow and a black crayon and added on to the drawing, dexterously turning the crayons in his hand to switch between colors without setting either one down. "I spent most of my time in my room." He'd drawn a little yellow triangle with an eye. He picked up a red crayon to point an arrow at the triangle and label it "Me!" "I didn't even have to leave the room to see the TV. The perks of psychic powers!"

Mabel wondered which of the weird shapes was the TV; but before she could come to a decision, she was distracted by the scale of Bill drawn in his room. Maybe he'd just drawn himself big, but he seemed cramped in that narrow space. And he'd hardly have room to turn around in the bathroom without his corner smacking something. "It looks pretty small. Is that normal on your home world?"

"Ah, I rarely spent time at home—it was just a place to sleep between speaking engagements," Bill said. "I was always on tour. Living the life of the rich and famous! Hotels, jet planes, and tour buses!"

Mabel shot him an irritated look. "You said this is where you grew up."

"This is where I grew up! I got an early start making my fortune. I was already famous by the time I was, uh..." he pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Developmentally, I think I would've been about equivalent to your age. Maybe a bit younger."

How much of all this was true? It didn't feel like a lie—and she couldn't see how he'd benefit from lying about any of it, except maybe claiming to be famous. So it probably had to be true. He'd actually made her a drawing of his house. Even after he'd complained about being so bad at art. She beamed at him. "Thanks, Bill. Your weird alien house is neat! I like the squiggly spiral flowers! Are they actually roses?"

"They were the flower that everyone mentions in poetry and that you have to bring home when your wife is mad, so, same basic function as roses," Bill said. "Fun fact, they grow in spirals so that they're pretty on the outside, but—"

####

"—but have more surface area to absorb sunlight on the inside," Mabel said, pointing at the flowers. "Alien biology! And the orange things are couches and the colorful box in front of them is his TV, and Bill says he could watch TV through the wall but he never really liked TV, he preferred live performances—maybe we should take him to a musical! And the little sideways cushions on the walls are their beds because gravity goes to the left because their house faces east—I have no idea why!—so, I guess that's their 'floor'? But if that's the 'floor,' Bill didn't explain why all his books were on the 'ceiling' without them falling off, and..." Mabel trailed off, giving Ford a concerned look. "Grunkle Ford? Are you okay?"

He was gaping at the drawing. "Wh—? Yes. Sorry. I'm just..." He shook his head in amazement. "I never even got that slippery eel to admit he has a calendar system, and you got the blueprints to his childhood home?"

Dipper said, "Yeah, this is amazing. How did you get this out of him?"

"Oh, I didn't do anything special," Mabel said casually. "Just drew our house and then suggested he was too scared to let me see his."

Dipper grimaced. "You showed him our house?"

"Don't worry about it! He already knows where we live."

"Of course," Ford said, taking a quick note in his journal. "Exploiting his ego. He's very proud; undermine that pride and he'll feel compelled to defend his honor." Ford had started goading Bill into giving away more than he meant to the same way. He wished he'd started doing it far earlier; but he'd spent so many years foolishly assuming Bill's pride was objective and justified that he sometimes forgot what an egomaniac Bill really was.

As Mabel had spoken, Ford had filled several pages with bullet-pointed half thoughts: dodges questions about the master bed—his parents' room?; no bed or bedroom for a sibling, he seems like an only child; "speaking engagements" is probably a euphemism, what was he doing to become a child celebrity; were his books his only childhood possessions or just the only thing he valued enough to draw; did he gain his "psychic powers" while amassing the power he needed to "liberate"/destroy his dimension? "Can I borrow this drawing to make a photocopy?"

"Sure! Don't forget the line on the back," Mabel said. "And you can copy the Fearamid, too! Did you know he named it the 'Fearamid'?"

"Oh yeah, I heard him call it that," Dipper said. "I think I recorded it in Journal 3?"

"I should've read that before we threw out all of Grunkle Ford's Bill stuff," Mabel sighed. She slid over the Fearamid drawing to Ford. "Bwop! He drew it tilting all weird to the left? He wasn't kidding when he said he's bad at drawing."

Ford studied the drawing and frowned. He lay his pen on the drawing to use like a makeshift ruler. "It's not 'skewed'—he drew the front face as a perfect equilateral triangle, and then extended a side on the right to turn it into a pyramid. It's poor perspective—there's no point of view from which one side would look like a perfect equilateral triangle and you could see another side, but..." He trailed off again as he made a note to himself about what this might mean about Bill's ability to perceive the third dimension and his artistic sensibilities.

"So he draws like Picasso!" Mabel concluded. "Oh! Bill mentioned a name when he gave me his house, he said he wasn't like Edward Bishop Bishop—and I remembered it because it sounds funny. Bishop-Bishop. Maybe he's another artist Bill likes? Or somebody who makes blueprints?"

"I'm sure I've heard that name. I think he was a mathematician?" Ford frowned. "I can't recall, though." He wrote down another note: Edward Bishop Bishop – mathematician/artist? Something to look up later.

Dipper glanced back and forth between Ford and Mabel as they talked, feeling his stomach sink at how excited they were and how easily they got along. First the mysterious disappearing crystal shop in Portland, now Mabel made this huge discovery about the guy Ford had spent years trying to learn about... Dipper swallowed hard and tried to tell himself he shouldn't feel jealous after he'd gotten Ford to himself for basically the past year. "I can't believe you found out all this."

Mabel immediately looked at him. "Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"

Dipper winced. He'd realized a moment too late how he must have sounded. Quickly, he said, "I mean, it's great that you did! Finding out more information about him is great. But, like... investigating the paranormal is my thing. It's what I spent all last summer doing, and it's my dream job, and... and now, the biggest paranormal mystery in human history is in our house, and you're the one getting all the info out of him?"

"Well, yeah," Mabel said. "I'm our official Bill spy, remember? I'm the one who made friends with him."

"I know, I know." He shrugged jerkily. "I'm just... kind of disappointed that I'm not prying eons-old secrets out of an alien demon. You know?"

Ford had paused in his writing to listen to Dipper thoughtfully. "I understand. When you're exceptional at something, it can be... difficult to share the limelight," he said. "Not because you don't think anyone else deserves it. You just don't know if you'll ever get it back."

Dipper's face heated up—he didn't want Ford to think he was bad at sharing, of all things—but he mumbled, "Yeah, I guess." Ford patted his shoulder understandingly.

"Aww," Mabel said. "Didn't you say that if we're running an experiment on being nice to Bill, you want to be in the control group?" She punched his arm. "Welcome to the control, bro!"

"Ow!" Dipper rubbed his arm and laughed weakly. "Yeah, okay, you're right. This is what I get."

Mabel said, "You should try talking to Bill! Maybe he'll tell you stuff too. He's really easy to talk to as long as you don't mind him sometimes saying creepy nightmare things."

"And as long as you're prepared for his mental tricks," Ford said.

"Yeah! Grunkle Ford's got a whole class for that," Mabel said. "He'll teach you about the BITE model! It's how cults sink their teeth into you!"

Dipper chuckled. "Sure. Maybe I will. We're gonna be at home handing out candy for a few hours, maybe I'll find an opportunity to interrogate him."

"You're not going trick-or-treating?" Ford asked.

"No," Mabel said, with an exaggerated sigh of disappointment.

Dipper elbowed her for her theatrics; they'd already agreed on what they'd do tonight. "We've got plans with friends. But we do get to wear matching costumes again."

"Creepy ghost children!"

"Ah," Ford said. "That explains your..." He gestured at them. They were wearing a suit and a dress, old-fashioned and gray, with tattered hems and dusty black dress shoes.

"Barty helped us put the outfits together," Dipper said.

"We still need to do our makeup," Mabel said. "What about you, Grunkle Ford? What are you doing for Summerween?"

"Ah." He glanced toward the ceiling ruefully, as though he could see The Enemy in the shack through the many layers of dirt above. Summerween had been one of the things he'd missed most about Gravity Falls; even during his years as a reclusive scientist in the woods, he'd usually taken off Summerween and Halloween to hand out candy to the children bold enough to visit his house.

But Bill's eagerness to participate had sucked the fun out of the day. The thought of celebrating Summerween in the same house as Bill felt too much like celebrating with him. "Nothing, I suppose. I was planning to stay down here." He gestured at his desk. "Continue my research."

"What are you working on right now?" Dipper asked.

Ford quickly said, "Nothing. Just—the same research," and was immediately hit with a pang of guilt. Remember what happened last summer when you tried to keep secrets about Bill out of embarrassment? Reluctantly, he said, "I've... split some research duties with Fiddleford. While I'm waiting to hear back from him, I'm looking into—some magical knowledge Bill revealed. To determine how much of it's true."

Dipper looked puzzled. "Revealed when?"

Mabel slammed her hands on Ford's desk. "Grunkle Ford, you can take a break from gathering intel on the enemy for one day! It's Summerween! Promise me you'll do something to celebrate before the day's over."

Ford let out a huff, but smiled. He wanted to do something. Surely he could come up with something that would let him avoid Bill? "All right, I promise. I won't invoke the Trickster's wrath tonight. Could you leave your costume makeup in the bathroom when you're finished? I'll find something to do with it."

"Perfect!" Mabel hugged him; then grabbed Dipper's hand. "C'mon, let's finish getting dressed. The trick-or-treaters will be here any minute!"

"Okay, okay." Dipper waved at Ford as Mabel dragged him to the elevator.

When they were gone, Ford turned back to the papers Mabel had given him. Bill's childhood home... Assuming he wasn't lying, at least. But an entire blueprint seemed like a complicated spur-of-the-moment fabrication even for him. If Bill was lying, it was a lie close to the truth.

It was strange to imagine Bill as a child with a bedroom full of books. Strange to imagine Bill as a child at all. What did a young triangle look like? He couldn't imagine anything different from how Bill always looked.

The floorplan did look small. Smaller even than the apartment over the pawn shop had been. Ford tried to remember what the homes he'd seen in Exwhylia had looked like...

He raised his head as something the kids had said registered. "Barty? Who's Barty?"

####

While Mabel was downstairs, Bill inspected her box of crayons.

The wrapper around the gray crayon was coming loose.

He took the glue stick they'd been using to reinforce the paper houses with popsicle sticks and carefully stuck the wrapper back on.

The house was too quiet without anyone around to talk to. He hated the quiet.

From the corner of the living room behind the table, when Bill leaned on the wall, shut his eyes, and listened closely, he could faintly hear the hidden elevator. He headed upstairs to stow the drawing of Mabel's house somewhere safe, and then went to the downstairs bathroom to finish dressing for Summerween.

####

(Y'all I worked hard on those fake crayon drawings. Anyway I know we're all collectively going insane today over the book news but if you took time out of your day to read this, I'd love to hear what y'all think!)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls fic #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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axeoverblade · 9 months

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Wait you guys sad thought…

So in the Earth 42 universe, there are photos on the walls of Miles with his hair unbraided that are very recent (see my last repost) and it shows the braids were a recent choice…

Do you guys think he started wearing braids after his dad died, because he was so messed up over it that he stopped doing his basic necessities such as combing his hair/ basic hair up keep? Like we know his texture if left uncombed will loc up.

So do you think he chose braids to just keep his hair in a way that was easier to manage while he dealt with the stress of it all and it just ended up becoming his style ☹️⁉️

#42 miles morales x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #miles morales x reader #42 miles morales #miles x reader #miles morales #prowler x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 #i’m sad now

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poppadom0912 · 6 months

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Together (X)

Warnings: Mentions of violence, blood, injuries, abuse, kidnappings, shootings, swearing and scary men.

Summary: Everyone's reunited at last and are never letting go.

A/N: This is the last chapter before the epilogue. I just wanna reiterate how much fun writing this has been and how much i appreciate all the love and support you've shown this series.

It's a bit too late for my liking but I've only now finished writing. This week was so busy for me but I promised and here it is!

Enjoy the last 2.5k words of angst because the epilogue is next!!🙃😊

Previous Chapter / Series Masterlist / Next Chapter

Kelly was bursting through the seams with anxiety. The entire time while responding to the car pile-up, he was riddled with it and the tension he harboured carried through to everyone else.

It put him at somewhat ease to know at least Sylvie and Violet were with you as well as Intelligence and then eventually everyone at Med. You were going to be surrounded by people you loved and vice versa.

When the scene started to get cleared up, Boden wasted no time and let Kelly go, urging him to take his buggy and promising everyone would be there once everything was finished.

The second Kelly stepped into the ED, April was at his side and guiding him towards the ICU where you were being kept for now. On the way up, she carefully explained what she knew and warned him about your appearance.

Kelly didn't know what to think till he saw your face for himself and God, he wanted to bring hell onto earth.

Jay heard his soft steps, picking up his head from the back of the chair. Kelly wouldn't say it to his face, but Jay looked horrible, eye bags dark and sullen, hair uncombed and frizzy and injury wise, the bandages told him enough. Somehow, Jay looked worse than what he did yesterday when Kelly last saw him.

Upon seeing the lieutenant, Jay tiredly smiled at him, easing himself out of his chair and half limped out the room with the IV pole in his left hand. Kelly went forward hastily to help him, telling him to sit back down or help him out the room into another seat but Jay shrugged him off, weakly pushing his efforts away.

“Go be with my sister you dumbass. April’s here to help me, don’t worry.”

And with that, he watched his childhood friend help support his supposed soon to be brother-in-law down the white hallways of the intensive care unit.

Kelly's eyes burned when he first caught sight of you. The last time he saw you was on the video he'd been sent of you screaming as you were being beaten up.

Gosh, Kelly had felt so helpless and still feels as such.

Sitting in the chair Jay had previously been inhabiting, Kelly took his time to fully study you, memorising every feature of your face once again in fear of having you ripped out his grasp again.

You looked so different. Kelly knew your body by the back of his hand and had your every single detail down to the cell engraved into the forefront of his mind. You looked so different but so recognisable, there was no mistaking that this sleeping woman was indeed you.

Six hours ago, everyone was ready to mourn the oldest and the youngest Halstead. Despite the resilience Intelligence bleed, everyone had been told to prepare for the worst and six hours ago, all hope was lost and giving up seemed so sweet but so sour it still stung now.

Kelly hesitated, hand hovering mid-air over yours, eyes cast down on your battered body that he could only see little of. Healing scabs and scars alike marred your hands, the sight making him falter, wondering if it was even a good idea to hold your hand. But then the last two days flashed in his eyes and without another thought, he gently placed your hand in his.

Relief washed over him in waves, flooding his veins. This sensation felt so bittersweet, the sweet poking the tears from his eyes and the bitter nipping at his ankles. To have you back in his vicinity, to have you back home, Kelly never wanted anything so badly before in his life. Despite this, you had been through the ringer, experiencing pain like no other, pain that you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy.

Actually, the Murray’s deserve worse, maybe the devil himself. Hell and a bit more sounded sufficient enough.

With his hand safely enveloping yours, Kelly felt himself calming down. Even with all the machinery beeping around him, to feel your pulse against his fingers made this dream a reality.

Soft knocking brought him out of his thoughts. Reluctantly pulling his eyes away from you, Kelly found Sylvie standing at the door with two coffees in hand, Violet nowhere in sight.

“Maggie said I can’t give this to Jay, so…” Sylvie said, dragging the word as she held out the paper cup towards him, shrugging her shoulders sheepishly when Kelly smirked in amusement.

“Thanks Brett.” Kelly smiled, gladly taking the caffeine from her hands, and drinking with no hesitation. Truth be told, no one in the firehouse slept much last night, they had too much playing on their minds.

“Crocket said surgery went well.” Sylvie started, standing by your head, fingers caressing your hair as she gently pulled each tangle apart one by one. “I know it doesn’t look like it but she’s going to be fine.”

There was a pregnant pause, Sylvie’s attention diverted and solely on detangling your matted hair before bringing a washcloth that sat on the table to get rid of any residue and dirt stuck on your face. Her trained fingers were put to work, her eyes not once leaving your face as she continued without stopping.

“She’s going to be just fine.”

*****

Kevin was overwhelmed, so was Kim and Hailey but much less so than the aforementioned man. The rest of the team, well they were off busy with the Murray’s and their many, many (somehow attained) henchmen.

The two women were bystanders in it all, coming much later and missing out the most brutal parts. The same could not be said for Kevin and Will.

The two men were following Jay out the warehouse but at a much slower pace. Kevin was supporting Will as best he could, apologising every time the doctor winced and faltered in his steps. Eventually, Jay got so far ahead that he disappeared and very likely was already outside and getting you into the single ambulance waiting.

All of a sudden, the silence that was only interrupted by Will expressing his pain was intruded by gunfire.

They really couldn’t catch a break, could they?

Will apparently remembered the hallways and pointed out a dead-end corridor for them to take cover in and despite his pain riddled brain, he wasn’t wrong.

Without any hesitation, Kevin drew his gun from his holster and shot when necessary and whenever he found someone lurking nearby. Without diverting his attention, he grabbed his walkie and called for backup, relaying both in code and not what was happening.

Eventually when some time had passed, way too long for Kevin to be comfortable with, Kim and Hailey appeared from around the corner, guns held up in caution before they lowered at the sight of the officer.

Despite having everything under control, Kevin felt better having his colleagues with him now that Jay was gone. With their help, together they could probably get Will out quicker.

Now that everything calmed down, Kevin could finally solely put his focus onto said man. Turning his back to the two women, Kevin went to talk to the redhead but found himself speechless at the sight he was met with.

Lord knows how but up above was a window that some crazy henchman busted his way through and had silently landed on the ground behind him. The man was dressed in all black, blonde hair pocking from the mask he wore armed with both a gun and knife.

Worst of all, the unnamed and very much unwelcomed man was way too close to Will for Kevin's liking.

Before Kevin could properly take care of the dude, a shot was fired, and the man fell very ungracefully onto the solid floor, the sound of the impact making all the intelligence personnel internally wince.

With the nuisance out of the way and no more pathetic distractions, Kevin turned to the redheaded man once again and the sight made him sick. So sick that he had to bite his tongue and hold back any bile from coming up.

Kim and Hailey clearly felt the same, both gasping from behind him.

The annoying man had been left ‘alone’ with Will for plenty long enough because along with all his injuries, another gaping wound had been added. Will was riddled in open wounds, the longer you stared the worse they looked. This one, instead of sitting among the others in his torso, was nicely placed in his thigh which conveniently was just above where Jay had been shot.

It seemed very convenient that every place on his body that had a wound were the places that bled the most. Will was having so much fun right now.

“Shit! Will!” Kevin rushed to kneel down before the slouched man. Chucking his gun and radio aside, quite carelessly, his brain short circuited before everything kicked in.

“Pressure.” Will coughed out, visibly struggling to keep breathing steadily. “You- you need to put pressure on it.” He repeated, wheezing as he liked his chapped and pale lips.

Without question, Hailey hastily took off the thin jacket she was wearing, rushing forward, and kneeling besides Kevin. With caution and slight apprehension, she positioned the jacket around his thigh but hesitated when she was supposed to tie it.

“This is going to hurt Will.” She said firmly, her strong tone warning him.

“The tighter…” Will started, slowly blinking up at the blonde woman who he knew secretly liked his brother and vice versa. “The better.”

And with that, Hailey tied the simplest knot and pulled hard.

“Fuck!” Will exclaimed, voice breaking. “Motherfucker-“

“Sorry! I’m so sorry but it’s all done.” Hailey incessantly apologised to him; her remorse visible on her face but before she could get up, she was stopped by a hand gripping her wrist.

“You have to go tighter.” Will stated, his fingers clutching her wrist as tight as he could but Hailey barely felt any weight. “Just like a torniquet. It has- has to be tight or else…”

“Will, stay with us man.” Kevin said, his tone leaking with urgency, almost pleading him. “You’re the doctor, walk us through it.”

Forcing his eyes open, Will blearily started at the three of them. His mind was completely muddled and subconsciously, he incredulously wondered how they hadn’t been trained to make a tourniquet in the field.

“Belt?”

Without further say, Kevin was getting up to unbuckle his belt easier, Kim replacing his space.

With much struggled, many pauses and tons of encouragement, they kept him alert enough for him to guide them through making a tourniquet around his thigh. The pain was unbearable, altogether it was blinding.

“I’m so sorry Will.” Kim whispered, sitting in front of him but she was alone with him, Kevin and Hailey gone off to find what was taking the medical attention so long to arrive. “Just a little longer I swear.”

“Jay! Stop panicking.”

“Hailey, it’s Will-“

“We’ve got him, go be with Y/N.”

“But Will- are you sure?”

“He’s trying his best, okay? Go be with our girl.”

And that might’ve been the last thing Will heard, the faint shouting between the two detective partners. Kim’s voice actually, he heard that last, her shouts for help when his eyes slid shut.

Actually, Jay’s desperate pleading, that was the last thing he heard.

*****

"It was part of protocol we run a rape kit."

Kelly couldn't breathe. His only saving grace being that Jay wasn't currently in the room with him.

"It came out clean."

Kelly physically deflated at the good news.

"It's going to take a while but she will recover. They both will." Ethan said, having permission from Crocket to tell him the news.

"And no one's heard anything about Will yet?"

The silence was so suffocating, if Kelly squinted, he could probably see Ethan turning blue from the lack of oxygen.

"We've been told we're waiting on a body. They want us to confirm it."

Kelly didn't need to ask for Ethan to break it down for him. He knew exactly what that meant.

If he looked the Korean man in the eye, Kelly would definitely see a thin sheen of tears coating his eyes.

*****

Antonio had been doing this for a long time, he’d seen and been through a lot himself but this, this would stay with him for a long time.

The guttural screams that tore his vocal cords to further damage. The blood trailed after him like the bread from Hansel and Gretel, painting the crime scene a war zone. His cries begging to know his baby brother and sister were safe and, in a hospital, where they could recover.

They were watching the innocent doctor become a martyr right before their very own eyes.

What happened next could only be explained by pure, sheer will and determination.

While they were hounding for an ambulance, Antonio caught men getting escorted away in cuffs, all looking identical until the final two men left the building. The rage he felt, Antonio didn’t know how any of them remained stationary.

It was a miracle Will came back to consciousness. When he closed his eyes and his body went limp, everyone truly thought that was it, after everything the Halstead’s had done to survive, this was the unhappy ending they were getting. But then, Will gave the biggest middle finger to fate because after all of this, she could be damned for all he could care.

Will remained alert enough, being continuously roused by each of the remaining intelligence members when they noticed his eyelids sliding shut. They tried distracting him, updating him on the wellbeing of his siblings, news that was happily provided.

The only ones that remained was Antonio and Kevin. The rest had been forced to accompany Jay just in case, they were all preparing for the worse case scenario. And Hank, he was making sure the bastards never got to see the light of day ever again.

Ten minutes passed. By now, it had been two hours since they got on the scene and an hour since they raided the warehouse. The more Will struggled; the more Antonio was losing his patience. Right before the naked eye, out in the open for the entire universe to see, Will was bleeding out; he was dying. Death was looming, crawling from a mile away but its stench was strong, it’s shadow too close for comfort.

Making eye contact with Kevin, they had a silent conversation and with no argument, they were lifting Will up and nearly carrying him towards the car.

This was their last chance and they weren’t going to wait for that ambulance anymore.

And for once, fate guided them with a beaming light. She overturned the hatred she'd shown and led them safely, holding out a much-needed lifeline.

And so when the car screeched to a halt at Med’s ambulance bay doors, Will found it easier to breathe.

Series Masterlist:

@mads-weasley @sowrongitslottie @elite4cekalyma @senjoritanana @hufflepuff-blackwidow @mrspeacem1nusone @kmc1989 @goth-cowgirl-03 @daggersquadphantom @photographerkaiya0306 @jamie0515 @samanthavitale @iamasimpingh0e @lanea-1 @swidkid @jamie0515

#one chicago x reader #one chicago imagine #jay halstead x reader #onechicago #chicago fire #chicago med #chicago pd #will halstead x reader #halstead sister #halstead brothers #kelly severide x reader #jay halstead x sister!reader #will halstead x sister!reader

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www-tanjiros-soft-dom · 8 months

Text

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆.

[18+] Bertholdt Hoover x GN Reader

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒: N/SFW content, sub Bertholdt, dom reader, handjob, drooling, slight choking, reader’s lowkey pervy, pet names, praises, kind of overstim if you squint, y’all suck at studying, unestablished relationship, Bertholdt is into post-hardcore/punk cuz… fuck you, that’s why.

｡𖦹°‧ 𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. 𝐁𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃.

So, Bertholdt. Breathe if you agree.

He’s always wearing some sort of collared shirt — be it a button-up or a polo — paired with a nice pair of slacks. Sometimes, he’ll even throw a nice looking sweater over it, and my, does he look so dapper. Such a handsome man walking around campus, from his perfectly combed hair to his leather dress shoes.

But, he doesn’t always dress up like that. And you found that out after showing up at his dorm for your scheduled weekend study session. When he opened the door, he was not wearing a collared shirt; instead, his torso was clad in a black American Idiot shirt (huh, you didn’t know he was into Greenday), surprisingly baggy for someone his stature, but you had to remind yourself that Bertholdt was just as lanky as he was tall, so finding shirts that fit must be an absolute nightmare for him. Grey sweatpants replaced his usual nice slacks, and holy shit, stop staring at his crotch, (Y/N)!!

Confusion overtook his features (for a second, you were afraid he caught you ogling at how nicely his sweatpants emphasized his package), and he asked if you needed something. Now it was your turn to be confused; did he forget about your study session? It was revealed that, yes, he did forget about your study session, and watching his eyes widen and his ears turn pink was… something else.

“Ah, shi… um… sorry, (Y/N),” he meekly mumbled (wait a minute, did he almost just swear??). “I forgot what day it is…”

You were quick to reassure him that it was okay, and if he was busy with something else, you could totally come back later, or reschedule your session for another day. But he rapidly shook his head and started to reassure you, inviting you in so you could start. This would actually be your first time in his room, so you took the time to admire every inch of it. It was fairly neat, save for the unmade bed, and it seemed as though everything had their place. Button ups ranging from white to navy blue were neatly hung up on clothing hangers. Books were neatly propped up on one side of his desk while notebooks were methodically stacked onto each other on the other. Not too much decoration made it on his walls, but you did take note of the Polaroid picture of him, Reiner, and Annie, along with the Coheed and Cambria poster adjacent to his door (since when did Bertholdt like post-hardcore—?).

“Sorry about the mess. If I didn’t forget, I would’ve cleaned up a bit.”

You wanted to let out a humored scoff; what mess? As far as you could tell, this was the cleanest dorm room you’ve ever seen a college student live in. After telling him that you didn’t mind, the study session commenced, and you couldn’t help but find yourself… distracted. At first, it started rather innocent; just wondering how you never knew Bertholdt’s music tastes, despite knowing each other for quite some time. Then he started saying something to grab your attention, which made you begin to study his face (instead of, you know, studying for your upcoming exam). Huh… did Bertholdt always have such pretty, pale green eyes? You thought they were more of a grey, but now that you took the time to actually look at them, you realized there was a hint of sage in his iris. They really complimented his chestnut hair… that you just now noticed was uncombed, sticking up in ways that just looked so endearing and soft… your hand twitched at the thought of reaching out and stroking it, carding your fingers all the way to the back of his bedhead and—

Woah, woah, woah. Let’s not go there.

So, pushing down those thoughts, you diligently returned to your gaze to your notes as you listened to him continue to speak. But you could only focus on his words for so long before you started to focus on his voice, and while his low notes had a roughness to them, his high notes were softer… breathy, even. It made you wonder just how high he could reach while you wrapped your hands around his—

Ayo. Quit it. You’re supposed to be studying, not thinking about your study partner in such a disgustingly gaudy way. Christ, have you no shame, you scolded yourself. Get a grip!

You managed to tune back into what Bertholdt was actually saying, just in time for him to pose a question on whether or not he should make flash cards. It sounded like a good idea, so you suggested the idea of making them on Quizlet to save time and notecards, which he agreed with, and immediately got to work on his laptop. The room fell into a comfortable silence, only the noises of clicking keys filling your ears. And, of course, your eyes had to wander from your notes to his face again, this time focusing on his lips. They were a bit chapped, yet still managed to look soft, and… oh… he just darted his tongue out to wet them. Now they were slightly glistening with his own spit. Great. How were you supposed to not think about hooking your index finger under his chin, smearing his spit by stroking his bottom lip with your thumb, huh?! What, is it wrong to feel the strong urge to press a finger down on the divot where his lip was cracked, watch as his mouth parted for you to stick your finger into the warm cavity—

I’m going to hell, you mentally groaned.

There was one final attempt to return to your studies; honestly, there was! But your attention was diverted by Bertholdt cursing underneath his breath (yes; Bertholdt Hoover. Cursing. Do you even know this man anymore?!), and your eyes just so happened to flick towards his long, extremely grab-able neck. To quel the sudden restlessness you felt in your hands, your gaze traveled down from his Adam’s apple to the exposed skin of his collar bone… which by no means did you any favors. That damn Green Day shirt was suddenly becoming the bane of your existence, because why the fuck did it have to sit on his body in such a teasing way, pooling around his waste in the valley between his pelvis and his…

And his…

…

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuCK—

“(Y/N)?”

And now every distraction comes to bite you in the ass, because of course Bertholdt’s soft voice called out to you as his green eyes were trained on your face, dark eyebrows quirked worriedly under his soft, tousled hair while his lips were stretched into a frown (god, if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was pouting at you). With his head turned to face you, you could definitively see the strain of his neck muscles, his Green Day shirt shifting to reveal more olive skin underneath… and… his…

“… U-uhm… (Y/N)…?”

Your eyes snapped back to his, but you were too entranced by them to even muster a response. Those beautiful sage green eyes… framed perfectly by long dark lashes… they were practically beckoning your hand to find purchase on one of his flushed cheeks…

It was an innocent little gesture. Just lovingly cradling the side of his face in your hand, giving him ample time for him to pull away before you actually made contact with his warm skin. Worst case scenario, he asks what you were doing, and you could make up some bullshit excuse while you die a little inside, and this whole 30 second interaction could be forgotten with time, never to be brought up again.

That’s when he leaned into your touch.

And… uh… things sort of spiraled from there.

You don’t exactly remember how you started from point A and ended up here at point B. But all that matters is that you had him sitting in the space between your thighs, back against your front, and long, muscular legs spread so far apart, you couldn’t help but be amazed. While his hands gripped onto your thighs like they were his only lifeline, yours were multitasking between exploring his toned chest and giving steady strokes to his cock. Somehow, the end of his Green Day shirt ended up caught between his teeth (did you tell him to do that? Did he do that on his own? You couldn’t remember), barely doing much to muffle his high-pitched whines that you could only describe as adorable and hot. Grey sweatpants and plaid boxers were rolled down to his mid thigh in order for you to access his painfully red dick better.

The hand on his chest found one of his pretty pink nipples, causing a shudder to wreck through Bertholdt’s body as you circled the bud with your fingers. Then, after giving it an experimental tug, something mixed between a gasp and a moan left Bertholdt’s saliva-slicked lips, his back arching forwards. “Hhnrngh—!! Mm… (Y/N),” he managed to get out with a mouth full of fabric.

“I’m here, baby,” you softly cooed, continuing to play with his hardened nub in order to elicit more delicious sounds from him. “You’re being such a sweet thing for me… such a good boy!”

His cock jumped in your hand as beads of precum dribbled down from his slit. “Mmh—!! Ahh!! G-good boy f’you, (Y/N)!! Oh— (Y/N)! (Y-Y/N)! (Y/N)—!!” With every chant of your name, his voice seemed to rise an octave. You could hear it beginning to crack around the edges, cute little sobs and hiccups mixing with heavy breaths, and— oh, Christ, was he crying? “Nrhh… w’nna b… b’guh—ahh—!!”

Your mouth found the side of his neck, teeth sinking into one of the purple splotches you previously sucked into his skin. This received a broken keen from the giant, his hips bucking up desperately into your hand, and you couldn’t stop the adoring chuckle from escaping your chest. “Oh, my baby boy, you’re already so, so good.” With a skillful flick of your wrist, Bertholdt’s mouth fell open with the prettiest moan you’ve ever heard, shirt falling from his mouth while his head fell backwards to expose more of your little bite marks and hickies that littered his throat. “Yeah, that’s it,” you soothed, trailing your hand upwards from his nipple to the base of his neck. “Just like that, baby. Let me hear you, okay?”

“Oh— oh, fuck, please!!” One of his giant hands shot up to yours. Before you could even process it, he was applying pressure to your hand and indirectly squeezing his own throat. “Fuh… fuck— pleaseplease, (Y/N)!!”

You couldn��t ignore the way your heart jumped in your chest. Was he actually begging for you to choke him? No, he couldn’t be… that’s too good to be true… unless? “Hm? You like this?”

After applying the slightest pressure — just enough so he would know what you meant, but not enough to freak him out — a chorus of, “pl-please! Pleasepleaseplease—” fell from his lips. You slowly being to squeeze tighter and tighter until he let out a choked noise, followed by his breathless, “thah.. thank… thanky’h!! Hng!!”

With a high pitched cry as your only warning, his leaking cock spurt out white ropes, coating your hand and his torso in his hot release. Tiny sobs poured from his lips as you continued to stroke him through his sudden orgasm. You didn’t stop until he had to pathetically paw at your hand and gasp out, “hah… s’too much!! Too much!! Please!!” So, almost reluctantly, you released his cock from your grasp, his body slumping into yours as soon as you did. His tired pants filled the room, and you started to worry that you went a bit overboard.

“Hey,” you whispered, kissing the tip of his ear and reveling in the way he shivered. “How do you feel?”

“Hn… ‘mazing,” was his soft reply. Your sturdy grip was long gone from his neck (since y’know, it be a shame if you accidentally murdered him while jerking him off), which allowed you to see the bruises you left behind. Whoops. Hopefully, his shirt collars go high enough to hide that.

Getting him to lay down on the bed, you could finally admire the fruits of your labor. Drool dribbled down his chin, mingling with the tears of pleasure that leaked from his hooded and unfocused eyes. His face was a beautiful shade of red as sweat caused his hair to stick to his forehead. And… yikes… you should probably offer to wash his shirt for him, shouldn’t you? Tugging at its hem, you managed to slip it off of his body (with his help, of course. Even while totally fucked out, Bertholdt is a good boy), and then use its sleeve to wipe his face of sweat, drool, and tears before throwing it onto the floor. You could deal with that later; right now, a soft cuddle session was in order.

So, yeah. Moral of the story, you learned that Bertholdt doesn’t always dress up… among other things.

#n/sfw #bertholdt hoover x reader #sub bertholdt hoover #dom reader #aot smut #bertholdt hoover smut #vlad smutula

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5cookiekitty-nsfw · 7 months

Text

*『Sweet as sugar』

Yandere Alpha Buddha × Omega F.reader 『Nsfw』

Summary: Or the one where you knew he would find you again , he wasn't the type to let somthing of his go. You just wished you were more prepared. Maybe then you wouldn't fall back into his arms so easily

Tw: fated mate/soulmate au , Yandere behavior , Possessive Behavior , alpha/omega dynamic , reader gets pregnant at the end but only for like 200 words , Nsfw:Alpha/omega dynamic , oral(F receiving) , vaginal fingering , knotting->creampie , praise kink , nicknames , biting , Dub-con-first smut please go easy on me.

Green tea , Petrichor , and warm honey.

It was a warm sunny day when you met him. So tall and imposing as he was intimidating , you knew he was dangerous the first time you laid eyes on him. Yet his very being brought nothing but a sense of tranquility and safety your body still craved to this very day.

His scent of green tea , petrichor , and honey was not as strong as any alphas you've ever met-not as dominant and overpowering as it was in most. It didn't need to be. He was dangerous all on his own and didn't need his scent to bring that across.

The feeling of joy and happiness that busted from your chest when you realized that this powerful deity was just as much of yours as you were his.

You didn't realize at the time how much he took that seriously.

Even now , sitting in a small ,old ,run down building ,you knew you couldn't truly hate him. His kind words and eyes full of love as he held you gently was a memory that your brain refused to forget. That you refused to forget.

You were lucky to escape before he was able to place a mating mark against your scent glands forever bounding you to him.

You laid your head against the cool window brought on by the heavy rain outside. You hate rain now. The scent it brought after always left that ache in your heart that almost made the omega in you cry out.

"My beautiful lotus."

You shook your head and let his sweet voice fade from your head ,lest you find yourself crying your heart out in the pitiful nest you made.

It's been almost a year since you ran away from that embrace. It's getting easier to cope , easier to breathe , and easier to live without the feeling of him by your side. Some days are easier than others but you're slowly getting there.

But right now you had more important things to worry about.

With the one year anniversary of your runaway approaching , you know your heat is not too far behind. You can't even begin to try to imagine what that's going to be like now that you've met him. Probably the worst one you've been through to-date.

But you were , if not anything else , too stubborn for your own good and you would rather throw yourself off into the deep end than to go anywhere back near him.

You knew you wouldn't be able to make yourself go if you saw him again.

A sudden strike of lighting brought you back to the real world and your eyes flickered across the window before you slumped off the windowsill and towards the bed. You let yourself drop onto the uncombable mattress with a sigh.

You pulled the old , thin blanket over your body as you curled up. The feeling of phantom hands were quickly shaken off as you let your head be cleared. With thoughts about your terrible heat approaching and the way you knew you would have to be moving again to avoid getting caught , you want to sleep with worry in your mind and a thousand thoughts running through your head. It was amazing how he managed to occupy almost all of them.

The feel of a breeze gently swaying your hair brought a smile to your face as you sat below a tree. Arms tightened around your waist and you pushed yourself deeper into his embrace. You felt him bury his head into your neck where your scent glands were located and you tilted your head to allow him better access. He hummed in apparition of your gesture and showed it by placing a small kiss on the outline of your glands making a shudder run through your body.

You loved having his time like this. Just the two of you basking in each other's presence with nothing but love in your hearts. It was the only time he allowed himself to truly relax with you in his arms. No one around but just the two of you.

“What's got you so happy?” His voice managed to let your attention fall on the feeling of your lips stretching up into a smile. He placed his chin on your head as he pulled your back flushed against him and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Me i hope.” you didn't have to see his face to know he was smiling , the way his fingers playfully danced along your side was enough evidence of the fact that he was. You scoffed lightly and he barked out a laugh at the sound. “I'm guessing I got it wrong.”

“No you got it right.” you said as you rolled your eyes. “But to guess yourself first is a level of confidence and self assurance that only you would have.”

“Only because you're involved” his words never failed to make butterflies go off in your stomach. Even after months of knowing each other he still manages to find new ways to make your heart flutter.

You felt those butterflies increase when his hands came to the cup of your cheek and pulled your face back to see his. He smiled , one of his rare genuine ones , as his brush brushed the corner of your lip. “My lotus.” he placed his forehead against yours. “I wish for his moment to last forever.”

“But then we wouldn't share any more moments.”

“No i supposed we wouldn't.” he pulled his head back slightly to look you in the eye. “But I might as well make this one more special than the rest.”

His lips met yours in the first kiss you two shared.

It was under that tree that you both shared the first kiss and it was under that tree when you made the decision to run away from him.

Even to this day you still remember the feeling of his lips against yours and the tears that spilled from your eyes as you left the home you had built by his side.

•~•○•~•

Something was wrong.

You just didn't know what…

Whatever it was , it was setting off your omega brain in a way that felt oddly familiar. The feeling poked in the back of your mind for hours as you walked the little town you found yourself in.

It was warm and the feeling of wind on your skin felt good as you walked around the town you found yourself in. You managed to pick out some ripe fruit and a little bit of rice , stuffing your goods into the sad little brown sack you called a bag before you started to make your way back to the motel you were staying in.

Waving to the desk clerk as you walked by , you made your way up the stairs and towards the very end of the hallway where your room was. You threw the sandals you had on onto the floor before an odor caught your nose. You sniffed at yourself and wrinkled your nose when you did so.

‘I need a shower badly’ you thought as you started to make your way to the bathroom. You took off the black halter neck wrap dress you had on before turning the shower on and stepping in. “damn this feels good.” and it did. rarely did you get warm showers , instead more often than not you took a bath in the river due to staying in abandoned houses more often than not.

Humming to yourself you lathered up your body before letting the shower rinse you off. You stayed there a good few more minutes before your fingers started to wrinkle and you stepped out. You grabbed at a towel and wrapped it around your body before stepping closer to the bathroom door and-

Green tea , Petrichor , and warm honey.

The feeling of calmness and safety washed over you did little to quell the burning panic and horror that was creeping up your body. You stood there , paralyzed and rigid as a million thoughts ran through your head. You had no idea what to do.

He wasn't the type to just let his scent run wild like this ,he had better control than that. No , if you could smell him all the way into the bathroom it was because he wanted you to. Wanted you to know he was here.

You swallowed as your erratic eyes set their vision on the window above the bathroom door. It was maybe dangerous and you may sprain something but at least you'll have a headstart in ru-

‘Don't run , Don't Run , DON'T RUN FROM ALPHA.ALPHA.ALPHA.ALPHA’ you choke on your spit when your instincts immediately object to the idea. It was burning and you were forced to turn your head away lest you forcibly drop in the middle of the bathroom with the person who you have been trying to avoid for a whole year right outside the door.

Damn it. You can't run , your stupid instincts won't let up after coming into contact with his scent after so long , and you sure as hell can't fight him. Nothing

There was nothing that you could do to get out of this situation.

You knew this day would come , that he would eventually drag you back into his embrace. You just wished you also knew what to do when that day came. Your arms felt heavy from where they hung at your side and your shoulders hunched over in defeat.

You slowly walked over to the black dress you had on and slipped that and your undergarments on before facing the door. You straightened , squaring your shoulders and evening out your face as you walked over and twisted the door knob open. His scent hits you like a train but as you walk to where your beds were located and stop right under the arch that separated the room.

He still looked as beautiful as you remember him to be.

He sat on the bed , one leg crossed over the other and his face leaning into his hands with a sucker in his mouth , looking like the beautiful god he was. He stared at you and you stared right back. It was silent as you both observed each other before a little smile appeared on his face.

“My beautiful lotus.” he cooed and you shivered a little at hearing his voice.

“Buddha.” was all you said , tone even and he frowned a little.

“Really? Is that all I get after you disappear for a year without telling anybody.” he didn't sound mad , Just annoyed , as if you disappearing for a year was more of an annoyance and hindrance if anything. To him it probably was , what's one year compared to the thousands he lived. Still-the tone did make you flinch a little despite your best efforts not to. If he saw it he didn't say anything about it , only moving a finger in the ‘come here’ motion. You didn't and when he waited for a few more seconds he spoke. “y/n.” ok so maybe he’s feeling more than just a bit annoyed.

Having him use your name instead of his enduring nicknames splurged you to move towards him at a reasonable pace. Buddha watched you , intently , as you made your way over to him before stopping at the food of the bed where he sat. he reached his hand out and pulled you into his lap , cradling you to his chest as one would do a baby with your legs dangling off the sides of his.

“There we go.” you didn't say anything about the slightly relieved tone you heard. “Did you have fun on your little adventure.” he took to rubbing your body , where his hands held you , with his thumb. “I sure do hope so.” and suddenly his scent spiked and with your head being right next to his neck it sent you into a daze that left you a gooey , puddling mess in his hold as you went. “Cause it's going to be the last time I'll let you leave that again , pretty little omega.” He then began to pull something out from god knows where and when your eyes caught sight of it you began to fight the haze that had covered your mind to squirm.

“B-buddha pleeease don't.” your words slurred as you tried to plead with him to not put on the omega collar. God knows that as soon as that thing injects his pheromones into your system you'll become an even more puddle of instincts eager to please the alpha in front of you. “I-i d-don't want it.” he just cooed down at your form as he held the cursed thing up in the light.

“It's ok little lotus , It will just make you a bit more receptive to my demands. I'll take it off as soon as we get home and you'll go right back to your normal self but right now I can't have you fighting me.” the damn collar was pretty too-even if you didn't want to admit it. It was fluffy and the color of his eyes with a golden tag in the shape of a lotus hanging from a loop with the word ‘buddha’ was neatly inscribed on it.

You hated how the omega part of your brain preened and begged for him to put it on , to show all of the valhalla who you belonged to. Your rational part of your brain silenced the omega part and made you squirm harder as you ranked your nails on his arms holding you. “What the-Hey! Stop that you -Don't try to bite me!” you did in fact not stop and continued to fight him as he struggled to hold your flailing form. “No , No , NO! Don't you dare buddha! Let me go and leave me alone-”

“THAT IS ENOUGH!” the alpha voice immediately made you stiffen as your limbs locked in place. For him to yell-his annoyance must be flying through the roof right now. “Now , you're going to sit still and let me put the collar on you like a good little omega.” you hated how patronizing he sounded. You hated how your body was forced to listen to his command even more. He seemed to fiddle with the damn collar before it opened , ready to be put around your neck and seal your fate.

“Y-you. What do you plan on doing.” that seemed to stop him as he blinked down at you wide eyed before a wistful smile crossed his lips. “I love you so much. Do you not know how close you were to breaking me after you left. Putting me through this goose chase after you just to have you in my arms again. And while I do respect your wishes and boundaries you obviously cannot be trusted with your own self considering how you still kept away despite it hurting you. Hurting us.” you wondered how long he had known where you were at to even know that info. You hoped he didn't see the nights of you crying in bed because of how much your heart ached to have him back with you. “So I'm doing what's best for the both of us.”

“If I put a pretty little mating mark on your neck you won't be able to stay away.” your eyes widened as you tried to protest his words.”wait , buddha no-” Key word being tired cause he once more interrupted you “Buddha , yes. I won't let you deny yourself happiness cause of-god knows why you ran away.” he then started to move the collar towards your neck. “I'll figure that out after we've made it home.” tears left your eyes as the fur touched your neck.

He wipes them away with a free hand before kissing you on the forehead. “It's ok little lotus. Your alpha is going to take real good care of you.” and then that damn collar was clamping on your neck and all you knew was a haze.

your once cotton brain was filled with thoughts you were able to comprehend , slowly , over the course of half an hour. It was only after that time did you realize what your brain was trying to tell you.

Why were your eyes covered?

Your hands flew to your head to tug off the silk that covered your eyes but to avail. It was as if the damn thing had a lock on it that you couldn't feel with how hard it was to even tug the edge of it off your face. One of your ankles was also bound to , what you could assume , was a bedpost by the same indestructible silky material.

You laid there , tossing and turning in your spot as you let the thoughts eat away at your brain. Damn buddha-

Oh…that's right.

Buddha took you once more. You hate yourself for getting too comfortable with your freedom and now you're paying the price for it. You wished you could say you hated being in his arms again. What did he plan on doing to-

“My beautiful lotus.” there was a hand gently moving along your ankle all the way up your calf and you jumped a little. You had been so lost in thought that you didnt hear him enter-that if he left at all. “Did I scare you little one?” he chuckled to himself as that hand continued to crease its way up your body all the way to your face.

You felt the bed dip as the hand cupped the other side of your cheek to move your face towards what you assumed was his. Your suspicions were proven to be correct when you felt hair crease your forearm and a breath fan your face. “Right back where you belong.” he continued to run his hands along the sides of your body.

It was only when you began to shudder and squirm that he pulled away only to bury himself into your neck as he pulled you up , how he did that with chain , you had no idea and finding out didn't seem so important-not when he was pulled you into his lap and forcing your nose to bury itself into his scent glands.

He then begins to pet your hair as he whispers in your ear “I missed you so much you know. It was agony for me to not be able to hold you in my arms everyday that you were gone.” there were fingers tilting your head up and you could feel his lips centimeters away from yours. “Won't you grant me this one thing , my love.” and then his lips were on yours.

It's been so long since you felt him in this way and you hated the way your body seemed to relax in place as he pulled you closer to his body-you hated even more how your body seemed to slot perfectly against his. Like a final puzzle piece being put into place. The kiss was getting even a little too steamy for you as his tongue found its way into your mouth and tangled itself with yours. He pulled away to let you breathe only to dive right back in once you got that gulp of air.

Finally , after only he knows how long . did he pull fully away and you felt a string of saliva on your chin. “If only you could see yourself.” the husk in his voice made you shiver and he nipped at your ear with those tusks of his. “So sweet for me aren't you .” and then you felt him tug on the cloth covering your eyes and an orange glow entered your eyes.

His room was still the same as you remembered it.

It was covered in an orange glow and the center of it all was the man whose lap you currently sat on. His hair down and sprawled out behind him , he wore nothing but an open robe and some pajama pants. You took a quick look at your outfit and noticed he had changed you into a fur trimmed , spaghetti strap , baby blue , satin nightgown.

You could only imagine how you looked. Flushed cheeks , mouth open a little with salvia , and dazed eyes accompanied by your nightgown strap slipping off of you. It's proof of his control that he hasn't pounced on you yet and even then you could feel that sleeping through his hands.

“Do you have any idea on what you do to me , the effect you caused on my life since you came into it? You think its ok for you to just fuck off for a year without telling me where you are.” One of his hands came to cup the back of your neck and pulled you towards him until the both of yall were chest to chest. You had to crane your neck up to even look at him because of the way he loomed over you. “Were you even thinking of the damage you might have caused because of your little adventure?”

The growl in his voice made you shiver and he cooed mockingly down at you from the feeling. “My poor omega. Were you scared without me there with you? Did your heart pang as much as mine did when I wasn't there? I bet it did.” the hand on your neck trailed slowly down your back causing you to arch to get away from the fiery feeling of his hands.

Why did everything seem so-so-God damn it! you can't put a name to it but whatever it was it was making being this close to him all more intoxicating. That's when your eyes noticed some incense around the room and-Oh my god. “Buddha -buddha no. please dont-” he shh your pleads and peppered your face in kisses as you shook there.

He had put up heat inducing incense around the room and in your panic you didn't see or smell them until it was too late. Now you knew what that feeling was in the pit of your stomach that seemed to get worse now that you knew about it.

It was your body calling for its alpha to take care of it.

“I love you so much and it broke my heart to have you away from the safety of my arms like that. But i can assure you it won't be happening again.” he nipped at your ear and a small whimper escaped your mouth. “If I put a pretty little mating mark on your neck you won't be able to leave.”

“Buddha wait please , let me-”

“There's only one thing I'm letting you do tonight.” he interrupted you and suddenly you were flipped onto your back with him between your legs. He was pushing up your dress with one hand while holding down your squirming hips with the other. “Now take it like the good girl you are.”

The feeling of his fingers teasing your slit through your panties made you shudder. “Look at you. So wet for me.” he pinched your lips , making your clit puff out from in between and leaving a nice wet patch on your panties. “I do wonder what the source looks like.” your pussy was exposed when he tore off your last defense from his hungry eyes.

He teased your slit once more before spreading you , exposing your hole out as he whistled. “So pretty for me baby.” he blew and watched as the hole twitched as a whine escaped your mouth. He circled around the hole as his other hand teased your clit until you were a whining , squirmy mess beneath him. Buddha watched the way your face turned red and your expression haze as you became more lost in your heat-induced mind. “There we go omega , so good for me.” he encouraged as he cooed over you. He was going to have you cock drunk by the end of this he was sure of.

He lets one of his fingers collect your wetness before slowly sinking it into your core. the sound that tore through your throat was nothing but whorish. You were going to be an embarrassed mess the next morning but right now all you cared about was the way buddha's finger slipped into your walls. He seemed to still one he got knuckles deep before pulling back and slipping right back in with a slow pace.

He worked you up on just one finger alone before your voice was begging for more in which he slipped a second finger in. this time he sped up the pace as he curled his fingers. That little action seemed to have hit a nerve in your body that caused pleasure to spread all the way down to your bones as you jerked your hips to catch his hand.

He pushed your hip down but continued to fuck you on his fingers. “So beautiful , so perfect for me like this.” The wet sound of his hand meeting your ass cheeks every time he came into contact with them made you shudder as he continued to hit that sweet spot in your core. “Taking my fingers so well my little lotus. Can you handle a bit more?” and then he was leaning forward as his tongue caught your clit suddenly.

You screamed from pleasure as he swirled and sucked on your clit all the while you lost yourself on his fingers-when did he add in three-that were plugging in and out of you. It was becoming too much and you felt your hands scramble for purchase to ground yourself. You found them tangled in his hair and the groan he let out only made you moan more as the vibration traveled straight to your core.

“Buddha , buddha , love , please i cant-cant-” you were a babbling moaning mess as he ruined you completely. His fingers were curled now , catching your g-spot everything the went in and out , and his tongue was practically makingout with your puffy clit. He seemed to give your clit a break as he pulled up. “Yes you can. You can take it little lotus. I'll. make. Sure. of it.” Each word was met with a kiss to your clit before he dove right back into his mistreatment.

Something was building up in the pit of your stomach and you felt yourself getting tighter and tighter the longer he continued. “Buddha , buddha-please i'm about to-” he growled as he got up just enough for him to speak. “Then by all means , cum for me omega.”

And who were you to deny your alphas order.

With a couple more thrust and a swirl of your clit he had you seeing whiteness as you sprayed yourself all over his hand and chin. His thrust was a little weaker as he coaxed out your orgasm for as long as physically possible. He only let up once he heard your little whine as he sat up to lock eyes with you. He made a show of licking your essence from his mouth and fingers as you looked away embarrassed.

Your heat was in full swing now and right now all it cared about was getting his cock and knot inside you.

You heard the shuffling of clothes being taken off and you felt him spread your legs wide apart before settling in between them. “Tonight we join as one. When this is all over you will be mine as I am yours.” you felt the head tease at your entrance as it gathered up some of your slick. And then he was slowly dragging himself in and-Oh my god.

You've never felt so full and so right as he bottomed out and a moan left your mouth at the feeling. He seems to be frozen in place , taking the time to feel how your pulse and flutter around him as a groan leaves his mouth. You felt just as perfect as he imagined you to be.

And then he started moving and your hands went fumbling once more before he hooked your legs over his shoulders to grab at your wrist and pin them above your head. “Calm down little lotus. If you break, I'll be sure to put you back together again.” with that he was thrusting into you hard and fast. It knocked your breath out and soon enough you were a moaning withering mess once more. The feel of him dragging himself in and out of your walls left sparks sizing your nerves in the best way possible.

Buddha looked down at you as he continued to roll his hips. Face flushed in red and moans leaving your lips like prayer , it was a beautiful sight that egged him on more. He leaned up , still having your legs thrown over his shoulders , and left a kiss on its febrile skin. “You look so beautiful, split open on me like this.” a strangled keen left your mouth at the praise and he chuckled into the skin of leg. “You feel so good wrapped around me yeah? Do you want more , do you want more of your alpha?”

You couldnt think clearly , not when his hips were rolling into yours and not when he took your legs off his shoulders to press them firmly back against your chest. That seemed to allow him to deeper and a garble escaped your mouth as he drilled himself deeper into you. “Buddha! Buddha! Buddha!” you chanted his name like it was the only thing you could remember. He lets out a please him as he reaches down between your legs to roll your pearly bud between his fingers , leaving one hand to hold up your legs.

That got you screaming out in pleasure as he continued to play with your body to his own pace. “Buddha ! buddha!” a single word left your mouth that caused the temperature in the room to skyrocket. “Alpha~” that seemed to get him going as a growl left his lips and suddenly he was really fucking your brains out.

“Thats right , its your alpha taking care of you and its your alpha thats fucking you.” that familiar feeling was creeping back up your body and buddha hissed when he felt you tighten. “You're not ever leaving my side again. I won't allow it.” h was swirling and pinching at your clit and you felt yourself shake in pleasure at the mistreatment. “Now do as our alpha says and cum.”And with that your legs are shaking as your second orgasm hits you for that night as your nerves light themselves on fire.

Yet despite this something was still missing and you felt yourself sob out for whatever it was. “Was you not cumming enough?” buddha teased as he fucked you through your orgasm with no sign of him stopping anytime soon. “What does my omega want huh? A kiss? Another orgasm?” his hair was sprawled out everywhere around y'all as those blue eyes of his seem to glow in the dimly lit room. “My knot?”

That was it , that was what you wanted-no needed. You nodded your head “yeah , yeah.” he chuckled as his legs felt limp and twisted yall body’s so you were seated on his lap as he continued to jack hammer into you. He moved your hair from one side on your neck as he nibbled on the sensitive area that was your scent glands. You jerked and whittered from the new position as the base of his shaft started to expand. “So pretty for me , like on the most beautiful goddess laid out before me.”

“But do you know what would make you prettier?” he said as he scraped his teeth along your scent glands causing you to shudder. “Having my mating mark on your neck.” and then everything happened all at once. His knot grew and he slammed it into you and his hot spurts of cum shot inside you leaving you thruly fucked out of your mind and unable to form a sentnse or word. And then he was biting into your neck and you felt the bond forming between the two of you as he let go of your neck to lick at the blood dribbling out.

You feel your own fangs come out and Buddha pushes you towards his own scent glands with a gentle petting hand. “Go on omega , mark me as your.” and mark him you did , biting down on the gland caused another spit of his cum to shoot out from where he was locked in with you causing your wall to flutter around him.

He lets his face fall into your neck where he kisses the newly mated mark on your neck with a pleased hum. “Mine.”

•~•○•~•

The wind was blowing through your hair as you stood in the garden of buddhas palaces. You let yourself wander around the area until a familiar scent reached your nose. You didn't move to greet him , only stood there watching as a butterfly went from one flower to the other.

He reached and when he did he placed a kiss against the scared over mating mark on your neck causing you to shudder. “Little lotus.” He greeted you with a warmth that left it hard to stay in any short of a bad mood around him no matter how hard you tried. “Buddha.” you greeted back and you could imagine the smile he sent your way. He never did figure out why you ran away that day and you weren't ready for him to find out. Least he make good on that promise you unfortunately overheard.

You felt him cup your belly , now round and filled with his child , as he lets you lean into his embrace. “Come along now little lotus , I've got something to show you.” you let him lead you into the house with the sun rising behind the two of you.

#buddha record of ragnarok #yandere buddha #yandere record of ragnarok #yandere ror #buddha x reader #ror buddha x reader #omegaverse #omega reader #yandere

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moineauz · 11 days

Text

You were 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃 and Wriothesley merely watched askance.

The prison walls could not bother to contain your volition, that fact echoed through chambers and erupted in fervent pits of laughter. Yet, to Wriothesley, you possessed a spirit only matched by the infinite allure of vast skies: intangible and fugitive. Wriothesley's eyes have followed the nimble yet cunning movements of your fingers: observed how you milked the sky's breath and turned it into silk and honey. It flowed down your arms: sticky, smooth and subtly sweet. From there, you sink your hands into the merriments and ardour of the soul. Pressing it together like clay, weaving it until your hands bled.

You built masterpieces out of rust and the woes of inmates- spindling yet sound- from the tendons of your hands and the ladder of your ribcage. The Fortress of Meriopide has never been so- ironically-effeverescent. Brought to life by smitten winds and the rouse of a pleasant spring.

Wriothesley would sigh and shake his head as you drew closer to inmates and created harmonies with metal and dust. Thus, Wriothesley scolded you, furrowed his eyebrows and opted you stay with Sigewinne for your sake, if not his.

Nevertheless, you laughed in his face and bumped him on the shoulder. Bright and luminescent yet untouchable. You were a vagabond; drifting in the vast open ocean, lusting for the transcendent yet liminal space of creation and music. Ignoring the rest.

If Wriothesley could wager, you would contently drown deeper into the puzzle of creation, your enamourment with the raw and exposed enlarging as you sink in delight.

You were drunk on life, on art, on turning soul into spirit, of loving every smile except yours as you ran your fingers through the tuffs of his uncombed hair. Like a forest, wistful and brimming with memory.

Who could live like a halcyon? Who could touch the sky yet long for the seams of the universe? Who could drag the sun down to its feet and melt before it like a candle? Every curve and crevice that his callous hands grazed over; melted fondly.

Wriothesley gut spun summersaults at the thought of knowing that stark definition fell onto your sleeping figure- as delicate as a feather.

"Don't leave," mumbled Wriothesley as he pressed the warmth of his lips onto your cool cheek.

Eyes still stitched together, you respond, placidly, "I'm not going anywhere."

Your bare closet began collecting dust that dawn- a skeleton whose bones possessed the secret of blossom. Your bag overflowed with rust. Wriothesley drew crisp morning air into his lungs, and by the time his chest fell:

You were gone, like the wind.

masterlist.

quick little piece to get me back again... wc: 444

#—stellaronhvnters.#genshin x gn reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin wriothesley #genshin impact wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #genshin impact angst #wriothesley #wriothesley angst #writing ᝰ.ᐟ

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soulreapin · 2 months

Note

kiss 21 with voltron.. maybe....

no u got it right!!!

prompt game: asks open

21: dealer’s choice.

Keith is a late riser on Earth.

Sure, on the Castle of Lions, he was awake at about five AM to go run around the long-range deck or something like that. But when he’s on Earth, and the day-night cycle is a beautiful and perfect 24 hours, his eyes don’t open before 9.

Like today.

He rolls over in bed, yawning and tucking his chin into Lance’s—

Lance’s bony shoulder isn’t right next to him for Keith to roll into and hook his chin into the crook between his shoulder and his neck. His eyes flicker open to the empty right side of their shared bed.

Keith sits up in a mild panic, sucking in a breath through his nose and out through his mouth every few seconds, looking around the bedroom. Their small house on the beach is, well, small. Lance can’t have gone very many places.

He’s lived by divide and conquer since he was a kid, so that’s what he does; divide the house between him and him, and then gets out of bed to conquer it.

The bathroom connected to their bedroom is empty, but the sink is wet and Lance’s moisturizer is open. He was in here recently, which brings some modicum of stability to his hard-beating heart.

Keith slips out of their room and pads barefoot into the kitchen, blinking rapidly to banish the sleepiness from his heavy eyes, and sees Lance standing guard over the stove.

Oh. Their kitchen smells of frying potatoes and all the nerves clenching Keith tight disappear. He combs a hand through his uncombed hair and trudges through the kitchen, coming up behind Lance and wrapping his arms around his waist.

Apparently, the days where Keith woke up in a tight panic were not quite behind him. Lance’s shoulder twitches, but he glances down at the thin, calloused hands linked at his ribs and relaxes. “How was your coma, Red?”

“Mmmn,” Keith murmurs into Lance’s shoulderblade, “Thought y’were gone.”

Lance has the forethought to turn off the stove and set the warm pan on a burner a little further away from them, turning around in Keith’s arms. “Not possible. I died twice and I’m still here to kick your ass.”

That rouses Keith a little, pulling back a little and squinting. “There’s no way you can be joking about that at nine in the morning.”

“It’s seven am, and it’s never too early.”

Keith lets a smile twist into his face despite Lance’s joke about the most horrible moments of Keith’s whole life, space whale included, and leans up slightly to kiss Lance.

He tastes like spiced potatoes and peppers (fucker had been snacking on breakfast while he’d been cooking.) Lance shifts, and then pulls away first, brushing an errant piece of Keith’s bangs off his forehead and behind his ear.

“The potatoes are gonna get cold,” Lance reminds him, pressing a kiss to the corner of Keith’s mouth.

He shrugs. “S’fine. We’ve got a microwave.”

“But they’re better fresh,” Lance argues, even as Keith kisses each individual freckle starring Lance’s face. “And I made bacon.”

“You can’t manipulate me with bacon.” Keith says onto the thin skin of Lance’s cheek.

Lance grabs Keith’s chin and gently nudges him backwards. “Bacon and tea, then. And potatoes. You’re Texan, you can’t say no to potatoes and bacon.”

He grumbles, but Lance is right. He can’t say no to bacon and potatoes.

#soulasks #vld #voltron #keith kogane #vld keith #keith voltron #lance mcclain #vld lance #klance #voltron legendary disappointment #lance vld #lance voltron #fanfiction #vld fanfic

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chaotic-iguana · 9 months

Text

Hushed loving

lawfirm partner! joel x paralegal! reader

request by @suckerforfanfic : the reader and joel having a secret relationship based on i can see you by ts, which could include like little smutty scenes

wordcount: 1.1k

warnings: smut. sexy times, falling in love ish, power play, boss/employee relationship

a/n: thanks for answering my random law related qs @theywhowriteandknowthings vi ur the best

masterlist

But what would you do if I went to touch you now?

What would you do if they never found us out?

What would you do if we never made a sound?

'Cause I can see you waitin' down the hall from me

And I could see you up against the wall with me

And what would you do, baby, if you only knew?

That I can see you

“Shhh honey, can’t let ‘em hear us,” a rough whisper came from behind you as a large hand clamped over your mouth, his other hand snaking around your waist to snap the band of your underwear against your skin, making you squirm.

“So fuckin’ needy, aren’t you?” a soft coo into the back of your neck; a frantic swipe of his fist ripping the ruined underwear off of you. It takes all your focus to clear the haze in your mind and just nod desperately.

“Almost think you like the thrill a’ gettin’ caught. Would you like that, baby? For everyone to know you’re being fucked by the boss?” The mere thought makes you moan and throw your head back into the warmth of his broad shoulder, a garbled yes tumbling from your lips.

It had taken months for Joel to so much as look at you. The intern, the nobody who was lugged with every menial task no one else bothered to do. You’d been working at his firm for nearly half a year, when an extremely late night at the office had you accidentally falling asleep on your desk instead of finishing up the brief you needed to have at Joel’s desk by the next morning. He was the first one entering in the morning, and when he found you slumped over your desk with files scattered everywhere, he’d started yelling at you until he saw the exhausted tears in your eyes, the slump of your shoulders, and how uncombed your hair was. His piercing gaze had softened, hands smoothing over your shoulders as he tidied your desk up and put your computer in your bag before he turned to you with a familiar scowl and told you to get the hell out before you tank anything else, sweetheart.

He looked at you more often after that. Thanked you for the coffees his colleagues forced you to get as a cruel joke. Two weeks later, he recruited you in a permanent paralegal position, claiming he was impressed by your work for him so far. It had taken a few drinks and yet another late night for him to pin you with a dark stare, a rosy flush spreading down his cheeks and chest.

And now, months after that, here you were. At his mercy in an empty conference room while literally every single one of your colleagues were in the bullpen right outside. You were so sure everyone knew by now - it was practically obvious. Both of you always left the office within twenty minutes of each other, his so-called lectures to you had way less bite than before - he even called you sweetheart during one and your heart nearly leapt out of your chest until you realised everyone else took it as condescension - and oh, god the looks. Joel was always looking at you now. From across the room, from the other side of the glass pane of his office, in meetings, in hallways. In all honesty, you weren’t much better. A frenzied need for him overtook your mind at all times, rendering you entirely mindless beyond him.

His rough hands groped the inside of your thighs, nudging you to spread your legs as he leaned back into the table behind him, settling you on his thigh. The palm clamped on your jaw moved down to curl around your neck, cutting off the whimper that escaped you while his thumb grazed your folds, an arm hooking under your thigh to hold you to him as your hips bucked. Two fingers inched into you, making your breath hitch as Joel curled them slightly and began pumping them rapidly.

“Lookin’ so goddamn pretty in this skirt. Had to show you my appreciation, sweetheart. Fuckin’ love ruining you at work.” Another muted moan, your nails biting into his forearms as you let out a high-pitched whine at his words. You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening, your thighs beginning to shake at the onslaught and Joel picked up on it immediately.

“Shit-fuck are you about’a come? Already?” At your nod, he huffed and sped up his fingers, angling them so his thumb was circling your clit furiously. “Think you’ve earned it? Botched a fuckin’ meeting with a client thanks to you. Maybe I shouldn’t let you come until we get home. Leave you high and dry, hm?”

Your eyes went wide and before you knew it, you were pleading him. “N-no, Joel, please. Need to come, need it-“ His scoff cut you off, movements getting more brutal; more honed to the spots Joel knew made you see stars.

“Need it?” The mocking words made you shut your eyes in embarrassment before Joel continued rasping into your shoulder from behind. Another mumbled please had him flat out laughing at you.

“Well, I gotta give my girl what she needs, don’t I?” and with that, you were coming, hard. Trembling in his arms, you clenched around his fingers hard enough for him to choke on his breath as he muttered praises into your hair, working you through the high before you went limp in his arms.

Hands that had groped, spread, and bruised you began gently fixing your skirt while pocketing your ripped panties, smoothing out the wrinkles in your clothes before he looked down at you with a glint in his eye.

“Prep the paperwork for Johnson’s case. Get it done by tonight, and I’ll make you some chicken alfredo when you get home.” He dipped to peck your lips once, lightly - as if he was choosing this moment to be bashful - before slipping out of the room.

His footsteps were interrupted by the sharp, irritating voice of his colleague - the one whose client you were supposed to have spoken to twenty minutes ago, which in your defense is what you stepped into the conference to do before Joel found you - a man who found every opportunity to point out flaws in your work. And you were about to give him a smoking gun.

“Hey Joel, where’s your favorite paralegal? I’ve been looking for her for the past thirty minutes and I can’t seem to find her anywhere. Some kid said he saw her go into that conference room you just came out of. She still in there?”

There was a pause of silence, and you could hear the sheer panic in Joel’s voice when he finally spoke.

“Uh, I don’t have a f-favorite paralegal. And if she’s in there I definitely didn’t see her. She must have gone in and come out a long time ago. Because why would we both be in the same room for so long, right?”

His rushed, shitty explanation made it so fucking obvious what was going on - as if the many, many sounds slipping from the crappily sound-proofed room didn’t.

So much for keeping it quiet.

hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist (message me if you want to be taken off): @imherefordeanandbones @theywhowriteandknowthings , @josephquinnswhore ,@millerscoffee , @nostalxgic , @sscorpiiiio, @pedrosaidsheispunk, @its-nebuleuse , @sofiparallel , @mandoisapunk , @bastardmandennis , @evyiione , @breakfastatjoels dividers by @reveriesources

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lorifragolina · 14 days

Text

Bad Luck Groom

This is my contribution to the Harringrove Relay Race!

@harringrove-relay-race

Summary: Can coming back to Hawkins to marry ruin everything for Steve Harrington? The wedding is in less than 24 hours...

Rating: G

TW: marriage

WC 2872

Ao3

“It’s me, or is it incredibly hot here?” panted Steve, widening the collar of the shirt.

The fitter grunted and adjusted the tie again.

“It’s you,” said Robin, smoothing his black and white suit with bow tie.

“I think I’m gonna puke,” continued Steve.

“Not here,” barked the fitter, adjusting the waist of the trousers.

Steve was sweating profusely, and the man wasn’t happy he was doing it in the wedding suit.

“It’s… so tight…” whined Steve.

“It fits perfectly,” replied Robin, taking off her jacket and changing herself behind the screen. Steve tried to look at himself in the mirror: he was on the stand, slouching, uncombed and pale. He tried to straighten himself out, fixing up his hair and imagining himself walking down the aisle in the suit. He couldn’t.

He dropped the jacket two times trying to take it off, and the tailor rolled his eyes. The shirt was wet from sweat and thank God it was only a sample.

“What is going on?” Asked Robin when they left the shop with the suits in their bags. “Second thoughts?”

Steve sighing loudly, passing a hand on his eyes. “I… I don’t know. I… what if it’s all wrong?”

“What is wrong, Steve? I’m your best man and I’m here to help, come on… do you want to call the thing off?”

Steve sat in the car. “No! No, of course, I’m just thinking… what if… what if everything changes from now on? What if…”

“What could change, Steve? You are together for years, now, you know each other… and as long as I know, you proposed”.

Steve pursed his lips and nodded. “I know… but if it is not what we wanted? Maybe we shouldn’t do it here…”

“Oh I understand, the problem is Hawkins? I thought you decided to come back to marry here, in the garden and so on, you know, your parents, bla bla bla…”

“Yes, maybe we should have done it privately… get wed in Vegas, you know… avoiding… avoiding people here…”

“Steve, the wedding is tomorrow… it’s normal to be scared… so they say, I don’t know it…” Robin giggled but her jokes didn’t relieve Steve at the moment. “Steve, I can manage if you want to…”

“No, I don’t want to cancel… I think I don’t want it… but… what if I feel like running away tomorrow? What if… it is all a big mistake?”

“It isn’t a mistake. You two love each other. You two love each other, right?” Robin's voice trembled a little. Of course Steve was scared, but why now out of nowhere he thought it could be a mistake? He always wanted a wedding and a family, she knew. It was the natural avancement she expected in his friend’s life, but… now she wasn’t sure returning to Hawkins had been a good thing for him.

And the wedding was in twenty-three hours.

-------

“I think I’m gonna throw up, Max”.

Max hid her face behind her hands and tried to breathe. She wanted to scream.

“Just go and see him, for Christ sake!”

“I can’t!” whined Billy, walking in a circle in the room. “I can’t ruin everything for him… you know…”

“But if you feel so bad…”

“I can’t!”

Max looked at the window not far away and considered that if put an end to her misery, but the room was only on the first floor, it wouldn’t work.

She tried to breathe again, rubbing her eyes. Both she and her brother were really quick tempered, but it wasn’t the moment to start a fight, although she really, really wanted to yell at him and maybe get some steam off from each other. But in that case it could have a terrible flood effect. All she had to do was keep Billy out of trouble for a day more. Hopefully she could put him to sleep early and have some hours of relaxation.

“So what do you want to do?” she asked carefully, hoping not to unleash another nervous breakdown. It worked only partially.

“I don’t know!” whimpered Billy, squatting on the floor with his face in his hands. “I’m… I’m such a mess, Max! Look at me!”

Max didn’t see anything wrong in Billy’s aspect. He was in his sweatpants, his hair messy as usual, that studied messy that made him appear really hot, and a pink crop top he wore a lot in the Indiana summer. It was quite old, but the matching tan mark made her believe he used it in California too.

“You look fine, if only you stop agitating and try…”

“No, I’m not in the mood… I’ll ruin it. I’ll ruin everything, Max!”

God in heavens. She needed to get her hair done and go picking the dress, but she couldn’t leave Billy in the throes of anxiety. Or could she?

“Why don’t you go and see him, if it could help you to…”

Billy whined. “No… I promised to behave… I can’t ruin everything… It's just one day before the wedding!”

“But you can…”

“Why did he have to return here for the wedding!”

“But I thought…”

“And if I run in the wedding tomorrow screaming like crazy and run away with him and ruin everything? Oh God!” Billy curled on the floor, keeping whining and babbling. “Enough, Billy,” Max sighed, trying to be firm, for a change. “You know what? Now you take a shower, put some decent pants on and we’ll go together to the hairdresser, ok? We’ll do our hair, our nails and you try to relax, ok? Then we’ll come home, order chinese and watch the Disney movie you want, ok?”

Billy stood from the floor, smiling lightly. “Could it be sushi? Chinese makes me bloated”.

Max grinned and nodded. Twenty-one hours to the wedding, girl, you can make it.

She gulped a shot of tequila while Billy was in the shower.

----------

Robin managed to make Steve take a nap, while she went to the beauty parlor. In the parking lot, when she was leaving, she saw Billy and Max at the other side parking and entered the same saloon, and she sighed. Billy seemed as messy as Steve earlier, and she clenched her teeth. Twenty hours. She returned to Steve’s house, woke him up and they had a light dinner, that Steve should skip to pass directly to the shots, but Robin was trying to avoid a hangover groom the next morning.

“Ehi Robin, why don’t we have my bachelor party now?”

“We had your bachelor party three weeks ago, remember? Vegas? Dolly Parton’s show?”

She bit her lips. She shouldn’t name Vegas, Steve was babbling they should run there to get married alone, and his eyes became a little glossy.

“Ok, my bad… well I don’t think a couple drinks are a bad thing. But only a couple! Promise!”

Steve smiled lightly. “Pinky promise. I won’t get drunk and I won’t get in trouble”.

---------

“See? I said that having your hair and beard done will calm you down”, said nervously Max at home, while Billy kept turning his head right and left examining every millimeter of his face.

“It’s acceptable,” he grunted, but he was visibly satisfied. He was pretty and hot and he knew.

They had the sushi but he didn’t feel like watching The Little Mermaid once again.

“Why don’t we go for a stroll instead? To the club, maybe?”

“I don’t think you should get drunk, Billy, honestly”.

Billy joined his hands.

“I won’t drink, I promise. Just a Coke, I swear. I need something fresh”.

“We have Coke at home,” she teased, feeling she needed two days of sleep after going through Billy all day.

“I need fresh air,” insisted Billy.

“Why are you punishing me, God,” she muttered while taking her jacket.

Fortunately it was early and the club wasn’t crowded or loud. Billy grinned ordering a Diet Coke and she sighed and nodded. They sipped their drinks in silence, Billy appeared calmer than in the afternoon, and Max thought he had accepted the idea, and the worst was over. Hopefully next morning he wouldn’t have those negative thoughts anymore.

She excused herself and went to the bathroom. She spent a little time looking at her freshly styled hair, and when she returned to the bar, Billy’s stoll was empty.

---------

Steve ordered a margarita, then he wanted another one but Robin forced him to take a skinny one. Steve sighed and obeyed. He drank obediently, finally relaxed in some way, talking about the charcuterie aisle and the catering for the party. Then Robin's mobile rang.

“Shit, it’s the wedding planner. I have to take it”, she got on her feet to leave the club. “You’ll be ok for a couple of minutes?”

Steve smiled. “Of course, I’m not a baby,” he answered, grumbling a little.

Robin went out, and, after sorting a minor problem with the boutonniere that apparently couldn’t wait for the next morning, rentuned to an empty table.

------

Steve felt bored by the soft drink and shifted his gaze in the room. It was almost empty when they came, but now after more than a hour, it was more crowded. He lazily looked at the bar and jumped on his seat.

“Shit”.

“Shit,” whispered Billy, seeing out of the blue Steve seated on the table at the farest side of the club.

He didn’t imagine they could bump into each other in that way, but Hawkins was a hole, a cursed one, but still a tiny hole and they couldn’t avoid each other for long, not now that their guard dogs let their guard down.

Steve took a big breath and stood up, waving at him. Billy looked around and left the stall at the bar, joining Harrington. They were seated a little agitated in a dark corner.

“So,” started Steve with a trembling voice. “You here, too”.

“Yes… so…” Billy smiled slyly. “I heard you’re getting married tomorrow…”

Steve looked him in the eyes, directly. “Yes… and I’m alone, I don’t supposed to see the bride until the wedding, tomorrow”, he whispered.

“Too bad,” Billy got nearer, staring at Steve’s lips. “Why not?”

“Oh, it’s bad luck, you know. It’s tradition…” he was breathing heavily, following the freshly trimmed profile of Billy’s beard, feeling all the nerves of that afternoon sliding away from him.

Billy slipped a hand on his thigh. “It has to be difficult… I mean… separated from the love of your life… so hard…”

Steve grinned, but after a moment flinched a little and lowered his eyes. He felt Billy’s hand, heavy, on his leg.

“You aren't supposed to be there… You aren't supposed to do this…” he whispered.

“I know,” Billy bent over him and kissed him. Steve loosened himself up and closed his eyes, melting in the kiss.

Both their hearts were beating like drums. Billy separated and looked Steve in the eyes, and Steve nodded; they took each other's hands and ran into the gentlemen's bathroom, crashing together against the wall.

-------

“What the heck, where were you!” hissed Max when Billy emerged from the bathroom, looking furtively behind him and nodding, and returned to the bar.

He cleared his throat. She noticed that his lips were a little more swollen and red than before, but she wasn’t sure. She also noticed, just in the instant Billy took his jacket and put it on, that he had his shirt badly buttoned and he had a dark pink circle on his collarbone.

“I had to go to the bathroom,” he shrugged, turning his back to her to hide the clues. “You know, the sushi and all…”

“Gross!” she shouted, and she took her purse to go away.

Steve nodded in return when Billy left the bathroom. He waited a couple of minutes and left it too, trying to act nonchalantly.

Robin was at the table with his drink completely melted, and luckily she couldn’t see Max and Billy leaving. He raised his eyes and lightly nodded at Billy’s wink.

He tried to smile at Robin, but she immediately noticed his polo upside down and widened her eyes.

Steve blushed entirely and his upper lips trembled.

“Robin. I messed up”.

Robin sighed, covering her face with her hands. Sixteen hours to the wedding.

-------

“I’ll have to go, Billy, you sure you’ll be ok?” Max yelled to him from downstairs. She hoped she wouldn't have to go upstairs, because Billy was blasting his metal as usual.

Billy looked at himself in the mirror, adjusting a lock on his forehead. He put some of his great occasion colony on his wrists and inside his pants too, then lit a cig blowing the smoke to the mirror, winking to himself.

He smiled looking at the perfect fit of his pants, then sent a little kiss to himself again.

He turned off the stereo and went to the bedroom’s door.

“Ok!” he yelled in return, listening to Sinclair and Max voices and then their car leaving.

“Showtime,” he whispered to himself fifteen minutes later, clinking his keys and starting the Camaro.

---------

Robin was shifting her weight from foot to floor at Steve’s side, really nervous. She felt really comfortable in her smoking, and Steve was absolutely stunning in his dark gray suit with the blue tie, that matched the color of the ocean blue decorations. Max and Jane wore the same blue and they’re glowing with happiness.

Everything seemed perfect under the canopy in Steve’s back garden, his parents were perfect too, Hopper, Joyce and the party sat on the white chairs in the grass and the sky was perfectly clear.

But she was nervous. She wasn’t sure that a disaster wasn’t on its way, and she was trying to spot it as soon as possible.

“Calm down,” whispered Steve, bothered by her wiggling. “I should be nervous, not you”.

“You tortured me all day yesterday, and now I’m annoying you?” she hissed, a little drop of sweat running on her forehead.

The noise of the Camaro got louder and louder and finally the car stopped at the end of the driveway, just near the last line of seats.

All the guests rumbled, looking at each other and standing all together.

Robin breathed loudly. “About time,” feeling Steve gasping and stiffening and she drew herself up at his side. They turned, facing the car.

Billy came out of the car, in a white suit with a blue tie bow on a black shirt. He adjusted it and took a big breath walking down the path until the canopy, tilting his head and smiling at the guests on his way. He sometimes looked furtively at Steve and hoped not to blush too much.

Billy winked to Max, who had been tense until that moment; she knew he wanted to do his great entrance alone, but she offered earlier that morning to go together.

“No, go with Sinclair. I will not flee”.

Steve was breathing faster. and smiling like an idiot. “You see”, he whispered to Robin.

“I can walk you if you want”.

“No, nobody will give me away, I’ll give away myself alone,” he winked one last time.

When Billy reached them, Robin went to hug and kiss him on both cheeks.

“Finally you make it”, she rambled in a whisper.

“You got the rings?” giggled Billy.

“Of course. And what about not seeing each other the day before?”

“I don’t think it was bad luck, I had a good one”.

Robin blushed and pinched him on his arm, then pulled him gently to Steve.

“You came”, said Steve, blissed, looking at his soon-to-be-husband.

“I came last night too,” Billy answered in a sough, kissing him on the cheek.

“You are impossible,” Steve cocked his head.

They took each other's hand, their handcuffs shined at the afternoon sun; baseball bats, for Billy, orcas for Steve.

They turned to the celebrant while the guest sat down again. They thought that maybe it had been better to get married in California, where they lived, or secretly in Vegas, but it was just the nerves of the day before. They were exactly where they needed to be.

Robin blinked furiously the tears away when she passed the rings to them.

“I do”, said Steve putting on the wedding ring at Billy’s finger.

“I do,” Billy did the same.

“You can kiss your husband”.

Robin clapped and cried, Max hugged Jane and Lucas.

Billy grabbed his husband’s hand and kissed the shiny new ring on it.

“So, bad luck, husband?”

“I don’t know what I was thinking about. I’ll never pass another day far from you”.

“I hope so,” smiled Billy. “I hope so”.

Thank for having me here and thanks to @dragonflylady77 for preceding me!

I had that stupid silly idea in mind for a long time and I hope you enjoy it!

I am so proud to introduce the amazing Suo @camaro-and-smokes and I'm really looking forwards for all the works in this event!

#stranger things #writing #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove relay race

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puppy-byun · 8 months

Text

Just Friends...Unless...? | Pt. 2

pairing: Hyunjin x Reader / a sprinkle of Seonghwa x Reader

rating: 18+

word count: 10.5k

genre: smut / friends to lovers / angst / university au

warnings: drinking, curse words, angst, bad flirting

summary: You weren’t crushing on Hyunjin. You couldn’t be crushing on Hyunjin because you were just friends, and there was no way he would ever feel the same way about you. Right? Unless...?

note: no smut in this one, just angst and lots of miscommunication because they're really dumb..., also fuckboy!seonghwa who's purposely bad at flirting, theyre gonna get it together but they need 10.5k words of being jealous and dumb first...

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You woke up feeling fine for about half a second - then you remembered what had happened just few hours ago. Glancing at the alarm clock on your nightstand you cursed, knowing with a certainty that if you had only just woken up then Hyunjin, who had drunk way more, had missed his morning class for sure. He would be feeling bad about that for at least a week, practicing twice as hard to make up for it. But that wasn’t the point. He had crashed on your couch because you had not trusted him to get home on his own and it really wasn’t the first time he slept over. But things were definitely different now, because you did not want to see him freshly woken up, hair disheveled and uncombed, face puffy. You didn’t know how you would handle it hours after realizing you were still very much crushing on him.

But since Hyunjin was literally one of your closest friends and you couldn’t avoid him for long without it becoming weird, you decided it was best to get it over with. Dragging yourself out of bed you threw on an oversized shirt and pulled open your bedroom door, instantly catching the gaze of Chaeryoung, your roommate, who was leaning against the frame of her own bedroom door. She was clearly more put together than you were, hair done and properly dressed, one perfectly lined eyebrow raised.

“Really, on a Thursday?” she half whispered, half shouted through the room, and you rolled your eyes at her attitude, a sly grin spreading on your face.

“I didn’t even really drink, so don’t look at me like that.”

“Yeah but someone did,” she laughed, inclining her head towards Hyunjin, who had his face buried in a pillow and let out a pained groaned at the same moment.

“I think that was me,” he was grumbling into the sofa, raising one hand half-heartedly. You told yourself it was out of concern that you went straight to the kitchen to get him a glass of water, and not if only to avoid him for another moment, because that would be simply ridiculous. He was right there in your living room, so you would have to face him. You would have to talk if you wanted to salvage what was left to salvage after last night.

Sitting on the low living room table you held the glass out to him, grateful for another moment he spent whining into the pillow before he slowly sat up. It wasn’t fair, that he would look this good with a pout on his puffy lips, eyes swollen and hair a tangled mess on his head.

He didn’t immediately take the glass, looking at you instead, so intently you were sure he was trying to gauge some reaction. Was he looking for any indication on what you thought about last night? You were almost certain he would bring it up any second, but then he simply took the glass from your hands, chugging the whole thing in one go before he finally managed a lopsided, soft grin.

“Morning, bunny. Why do you look this pretty in the morning while I feel like a truck just ran over me?” He was always saying things like that and it really should not affect you. It was nothing out of the ordinary. But god, it hurt.

“First of all, stop lying. Secondly, maybe because I didn’t down every drink within grabbing distance unlike someone else.”

Another groan left his mouth and he slumped back into the couch in defeat.

“I don’t know why I thought that would be a good idea.”

You pressed your lips in a line, not sure how to respond because you knew what you should do was talk about what happened and just get it over with. If it really just was a stupid drunk idea, just a hook-up, you’d have to deal with it and you would, but you needed to know. You had stomped down this crush once already until you were certain it was gone. Throwing a quick glance at where Chaeryoung had been standing you assured yourself she was back in her bedroom and had closed the door before you continued.

“Actually, about last night…” you started, uncertain how to approach the topic without straight up saying ‘why did you finger me in a park?’. Hyunjin rubbed his palms over his eyes almost aggressively, head thrown back on the sofa. There was a pregnant pause, your unfinished sentence hanging in the air between you, waiting for him to pick it up. He opened his mouth once before he closed it, rubbing over his eyes again.

“I didn’t do anything stupid, right? You stopped me?” He still wasn’t looking at you, and for a moment you were desperately hoping he would add anything else. What did he expect you to say? Wasn’t it obvious what you wanted to talk about? Was it really so casual for him that he wouldn’t even mention it? You had never even seen him kiss a girl, let alone anything more, and knowing him the way you did you were sure he wasn’t the type to have hook ups this casual. Yes, he had been extremely drunk, but could he really just have forgotten? You didn’t think he had been that black-out drunk.

“I-“ you started, brain working twice as hard to find the right words. “I thought we-“

He was now looking at you from under his palms, one eyebrow raised, and his gaze was filled with honest confusion. He had forgotten. He had forgotten he had been making out with his best friend, and now you were left to deal with the aftermath all by yourself, while he didn’t even remember.

“Yeah, of course I kept you from doing something you’d regret,” you sighed, shoulders slumping ever so slightly in defeat. The change on his face was instant, a smile spreading and Hyunjin was beaming at you. It hurt, because he was looking you like you were his world, and you were, just not in the way you wanted to be.

“Knew I could always rely on you, that’s why you’re my favorite,” he went on, one fingertip booping the tip of your nose before he leant back with another pained groan, realizing it was too much movement too fast for his hungover body. You couldn’t bear to look at him any longer, chest clenching, so instead you got up, mumbling that you would bring him breakfast. It only took you barely ten minutes, but you savored the time you were left by yourself instead of looking at Hyunjin, which only made it all the much worse when you felt his hands wrap around your waist, chin comfortably settling on your shoulder.

“How do I deserve you again?”

His words did nothing but make you feel horribly empty, because whatever last night was, he didn’t mean it. He had kissed you and touched you because he was drunk and he was horny and for some reason it had been enough to make you crave him all over. Yet he didn’t even remember. If it had meant something for him, wouldn’t last night have been the perfect moment to say so? You had spent a whole walk to your dorm in silence, and not the comfortable kind. If there ever was a chance for him to mention that he liked you, it would have been then, fueled by liquid courage. But he hadn’t said anything. Not last night, and not this morning. And whether he actually had forgotten or was just pretending not to remember anything, the result was the same. You wouldn’t be talking about what happened ever again.

“Guess you just got really lucky,” you chuckled, but even to you it sounded hollow. You desperately wished this moment would mean something, but it was nothing out of the ordinary, and if anyone caught you like this they wouldn’t even consider that you were anything but friends, because Hyunjin had been this comfortable around you for years.

“That I did. By the way, Felix asked if we were gonna go for Boba later today, you in?”

You were running late, because you had somehow ended up convincing yourself that if you scrolled through your Instagram feed in your pajamas up until five minutes before you had to leave you could still totally make it. It had most certainly nothing to do with the fact that Hyunjin was one of the more punctual members of your friend group and you had wanted to avoid waiting with him alone for everyone else. You had to get over it, and you had to get over it fast, because even if you had been more than friendly last night, and even if he actually had forgotten, which you weren’t quite buying, even if it meant nothing, underneath it all Hyunjin was still your best friend. The entire reason of getting over your crush had always been not to lose that, and that objective hadn’t changed.

You had miscalculated though, because now you were effectively running fifteen minutes late. You cringed internally when you saw that indeed almost everyone had arrived. Even Jeongin seemed to have found a free spot between all his classes to show up, and he was already tapping his wristwatch when he spotted you from afar.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” You apologized, a little out of breath because you had started hurrying once you realized you were more than your planned five minutes late. “I was busy with, uh, assignments and I totally forgot the time.”

“They were that thrilling, huh?” Jeongin commented with a raised eyebrow and you stuck your tongue out at the younger boy.

“I thought you were already done with all your stuff last night. Didn’t you tell me you finished it all so you could come to karaoke night without feeling bad?”

You closed your eyes for a second, taking a deep breath to swallow the curse threatening to fall over your lips. Hyunjin knew you too well, and there was no way he was buying your, admittedly, bad excuse. You decided to switch tactics because clearly this wasn’t working for you anyways.

“I’m not even last so I don’t know why you’re all so upset with me. Where’s Minho?”

“Practice, he’s not coming. So, we were indeed waiting for you, don’t try to get out of this one,” Jisung joked and you sighed, raising your hands in defeat.

“Alright, alright. I’m here now, it’s not like you’re all overly punctual. Can we just get bubble tea now?”

You weren’t truly angry at their reaction, knowing they were only teasing you and didn’t actually care whether you were late, but you had been so on edge the whole day that you couldn’t help but snap a little. It wasn’t their fault. If anything, it was solely Hyunjin’s fault, but you couldn’t even truly blame him, because he hadn’t done anything you hadn’t wanted him to do. It was awkward now because you were the one hoping it meant more than he had actually intended it to mean.

Ignoring the confused look Chan was giving you at your tone you were glad no one but him seemed to really notice that something was off. He would at least not address it while everyone else was here. You followed your group of friends towards your go-to campus boba shop, making sure that you stuck to neither Chan nor Hyunjin, listening to Felix and Seungmin discussing the perfect mixture of strawberry banana smoothies instead. It was a welcome distraction from being stuck with your own thoughts, as you had been since this morning. You had been unable to stop your mind from going over every single word or touch that had passed between you and Hyunjin from last night to now, because you couldn’t comprehend how it had gotten the point where you were making out, and then progressed from there to … absolutely nothing. You had been joking the whole night, as you usually were, Hyunjin growing progressively more touchy the more drunk he got. The whole night had been nothing out of the ordinary at all, until he suddenly got upset, ignored you, and then ended up with his tongue down your throat on a park bench. Stealing a small glance at him while he was deeply in conversation with Jisung, both of them laughing about something undoubtedly stupid, you couldn’t help but wonder if he could really not remember anything. He seemed so casual and unbothered. But then again, if it wasn’t a big deal for him, if he had just been drunk and horny, why wouldn’t he be unbothered? Maybe you hadn’t been as subtle in your crush as you thought and he had realized the mistake he’d made, so he had decided it would save you both a lot of trouble if he just pretended last night never happened.

Angry at how you had successfully managed to completely fade out the conversations around you, your thoughts once again gravitating back to Hyunjin, you plopped down next to Seungmin, leaving the others to order their bubble tea because you had lost your appetite. You were starting to question why you had even shown up. Naively you had thought it would improve your mood, hell, you had hoped that meeting in your friend circle would even ease some of the awkwardness you now felt at being around Hyunjin, but instead it had only made you angry at your own stupidity.

It really did not help that a minute later Hyunjin was sliding a grass green honeydew flavored bubble tea in front of you with a grin.

“Got you your favorite.”

“I-“ You didn’t quite manage to tell him that you didn’t feel like drinking bubble tea, especially not when he bought it for you, because he was positively beaming at you and normally you would have loved how thoughtful and sweet he was all the time. “Thank you, Hyunjin,” you sighed instead, managing a smile that came nowhere near reaching your eyes. “You didn’t have to.”

He rolled his eyes and you realized that apart from the slight lack of enthusiasm in your tone nothing you’d said was out of the ordinary. With all the commotion around you it wouldn’t even be unlikely that he didn’t notice something was off.

“You know I love spoiling you. Besides, you made breakfast, I’m only returning the favor.”

“I told you!” Felix surged up opposite of you, pointing an accusatory finger at Seungmin. “I knew he slept over!”

“Obviously I did, where did you think I was all night? Besides, would you rather I’d let her walk home by herself in the middle of the night? What if someone saw her walking by herself and got dumb ideas?”

Like kiss your best friend you thought bitterly, holding yourself back from commenting. Hyunjin sleeping over was a casual affair and no one would think it was weird or would even assume that things had went wrong somewhere between last night and now.

They were still bickering and you focused back on the boba instead, forcing yourself to drink it because not only did you usually love honeydew, but it would be pretty suspicious if you didn’t touch it, even though you felt sick to your stomach.

It was downright ridiculous how uncomfortable you felt when you could just focus on anyone else but Hyunjin. You were still overheated from hurrying through the heat all the way over campus, and the temperatures in the store didn’t help you calm down. You felt too hot, and you knew your face was probably pretty red.

As if reading your thoughts Jisung addressed you.

“You look like you’re close to having a heat stroke. We’re reaching thirty degrees; you’re wearing high collared shirts and no one finds this even remotely suspect?”

Mentally scolding yourself you prepared to give the most nonchalant answer possible, because you only now realized your mistake. It was indeed pretty off brand for you to be quite as covered up as you were in your high collared shirt, sweating and positively hating your choice of clothing, except you hadn’t had any other options upon realizing that Hyunjin had littered your entire cleavage in dark purple hickeys. Everyone had seen you leave with him, you couldn’t have possibly explained them away.

Daring another glance in Hyunjin’s direction you tried to gauge whether Jisung’s words affected him in any way. If he remembered he must know why you had opted to sweat rather than show even the slightest bit of cleavage. But he wasn’t even looking at you, straw of his bubble tea popped into his mouth and chewing on the tapioca pearls as if this had absolutely nothing to do with him.

“Maybe I just realized I’m friends with eight guys whose biggest concern is how much boob I show.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Jisung pouted, and you felt even guiltier for continuously snapping at your friends unfairly simply because you were so agitated because of Hyunjin.

“Gross, I have no interest in your boobs.” Chan added, pulling a face that actually had you chuckle a little.

“I know Chan, you’re the only one I can trust.” You reassured him, patting his hand across the table.

“I’ve never once even looked at your boobs, if you think about it maybe you should actually be insulted.” Seungmin mused, but you caught the devilish grin pulling at the corner of his mouth, giving away that he was teasing you. Still, you crossed your arms with a pout and went along with it, because everyone at the table was chuckling now, including Hyunjin, and you really didn’t want to draw any more attention to the fact that something was severely off.

“Actually, how about we just stop talking about my boobs altogether,” you suggested, not actually uncomfortable because you trusted them, but rather because you did not want to tread so close to the edge of a topic that you didn’t even want to think about, yet couldn’t stop anyways.

“Yes, please.” Chan added with a dramatic sigh, and you used the moment to steal another glance at Hyunjin, studying his reactions. Usually, you could read your friend like an open book. He mostly wore his heart on his sleeve. He was grinning at Chan, clearly amused by how bothered your friend was by this topic, but there was absolutely no indication that he felt even remotely as tense as you. If anything, he looked relaxed and at ease, a very stark contrast to how you felt and probably looked. You had been skeptical but by now you were actually starting to believe that he really did not remember anything that had gone down last night. It was ironic, that he would leave your skin littered with reminders of something that you couldn’t possibly forget even without them, when he was the one who’d actually need a refresher.

“Hey, uhm… Jisung?” A timid voice ripped you out of your thoughtsand conveniently offered the change of topic Chan had desperately been asking for. Right next to the boy in question stood a cute girl in a yellow summer dress, her hair bound together with a fitting bow. She seemed vaguely familiar, but you couldn’t place her. Jisung, however, clearly could because he blanched and turned around so fast he almost yeeted himself off his chair. It would have been funny if you hadn’t been quite so confused. Looking around to check, it seemed as if the only other person who did not recognize this girl was Hyunjin, and as a follow up his confused gaze met yours, eyebrow raised and you could almost hear how he was going through faces in his head, asking whether you knew who this was.

“You’re Jisung, right? The one who did that rap thing last night?”

You couldn’t fully suppress a snort when Hyunjin’s and yours eyes widened comically, your gazes of surprise mirroring each other. That was karaoke bar girl.

“I’m Yuna, by the way,” she added when Jisung still did not say anything and instead just stared at her as if she’d hung the moon. You saw the movement and heard the scramble under the table before Jisung yelped and you knew that Jeongin had mercilessly kicked him in the shin, but it did push Jisung out of his state of being awestruck.

“Yes, yeah, I’m Jisung. I did the rapping. Yuna. Hi!” He almost yelped again on those last two words and you felt the way everyone was on the edge of their seat, praying that he would take this opportunity and not fuck it up again.

“You were really good,” Yuna complimented with a smile so pretty you couldn’t miss the way Jisung was melting. “Anyway, you’re with your friends, I don’t want to keep you-“ she started, clearly now noticing that there were seven other people staring at them and hanging on their every word.

“Do you want my number?” Jisung blurted out, and you almost laughed when Felix and Chan fist-bumped under the table. Yuna seemed just as ecstatic at the idea, fishing her phone out of her bag so Jisung could enter his phone number before she excused herself with an awkward half-wave, eyes mostly glued on Jisung. There was half a minute of utter silence on your table while Yuna was strolling out of the boba store before everyone erupted into hollering and cheering, Chan tousling Jisung’s hair so enthusiastically the poor boy had a hard time sitting upright. He was clearly still in state of shock while everyone else was celebrating that he had finally gotten somewhere with karaoke girl – Yuna – and while you were truly happy for your friend you felt another wave crash over you almost at the same time. Where had your love-life gone so phenomenally wrong?

Sure, you had hook-ups whenever you felt like it, and that was nice from time to time, but Jisung was still staring as if he couldn’t comprehend what had just happened, and how should he? The girl he had been crushing on for the last months seemed to be interested in him. The only time you had ever felt like that was with Hyunjin. You had squashed those feelings temporarily, but while you had had good casual sex no one else had managed to elicit butterflies quite the way Hyunjin could, and you now knew why. You were not over him, and until you were you would be stuck with feeling empty, a perpetual weight on your chest that would never allow room for butterflies and all those other mushy feeling that came with being in love.

You felt your phone vibrate next to you on the table, picking it up only to be greeted with a message from Chan popping up on your lock screen.

[4:37 PM] From: Chan 🐺

U okay? you look kinda sad…

You looked up at him quickly, catching his worried gaze from across the table and chided yourself for being so careless. Just because everyone else was too caught up in being happy for Jisung – as they should be – didn’t mean your oldest friend wouldn’t catch you sulking and wallowing in self-pity right in front of him.

You shot him a thumbs up with a smile that felt thin and pathetic.

[4:38 PM] To: Chan 🐺

Yeah don’t worry. Didn’t get much sleep last night and im pretty tired…

You didn’t outright look at him after he’d read your message, watching him from the corner of your eyes and you could tell he wasn’t buying it. Attempting to appease him you clicked back in to the celebrations, putting on the brightest smile you could possibly manage with how you actually felt, but you immediately regretted it. They had moved on from celebrating Jisung’s love life to teasing Hyunjin about his, by trying to set him up with the barista currently mixing cream cheese milk tea. If he was bothered by it, he barely showed any signs. To his benefit he did not actually get up to talk to her, but he also didn’t react quite as prickly as he had when you had tried setting him up with Chaeyoung last night, and it only added to the irritation you felt towards him and your whole predicament.

“What’s your opinion?”

You didn’t realize the question had been directed at you until Felix was throwing the paper wrapping of his straw at you. You quickly threw another gaze at the barista, not really taking her in at all.

“Hmmm? Yeah, she’s cute.”

No one commented on your complete lack of enthusiasm compared to usual, and if they found it strange they didn’t react in any way, instead turning back to the conversation at hand.

It was all a little too much and a little too suffocating and you knew that if you got up and left now you wouldn’t have a good excuse, but you didn’t care. You had already been acting strange the whole last hour or so you had been here, so it really didn’t make much of a difference anymore.

Signaling Seungmin and Felix that you wanted to get up you snuck out of the booth, squishing past them and threw a quick goodbye at the table. You turned to hurry out of the shop before they could properly realize that you were actually leaving, trying to avoid the questions that would undoubtedly be thrown at you if anyone stopped you now. You were positive you had handled that moment anything but smoothly, but you didn’t get very far before Hyunjin, of all people, caught up to you. He had your not even half empty bubble tea in one hand, which you had conveniently not taken with you.

“You forgot this,” he stated the obvious, holding the drink out to you and you grabbed it, with the full intention of never drinking it either way.

You didn’t know what to say, but it was clearly not the right moment to turn around and just leave, so for a second you were simply staring at Hyunjin stubbornly, willing him to go back into the store. Instead, you found yourself wrapped in his arms, one of those hugs that were usually the most comforting thing in the world, but felt like pure torture now.

“Grab some sleep, ‘kay?” He was murmuring into your hair, and you closed your eyes and willed yourself to simply nod, praying that was answer enough. Let him think you were simply tired and exhausted; it was better than the alternative. “I don’t know what’s gotten you so down, but you know you’re still my favorite girl in the world, right bunny? You can talk to me about it.”

His words were just the cherry on top of a whole load of bullshit you did not want to deal with so you carefully untangled yourself, throwing him the most awkward thumbs up in the world, bubble tea in one hand, smile that couldn’t possibly have been convincing grazing your lips, before you turned around and almost bolted.

Things got worse from here on out, and the only one to blame was you. Having realized that you were clearly not cut out to handle the situation you had drawn back, spending the entirety of the next week by focusing on your courses and assignments, for once getting them done in time. Completely withdrawing from your friends did wonders for your work ethics, but Chaeryoung, who you had refused to fill in on the whole situation but knew something was wrong, kept repeating that this wasn’t a healthy coping mechanism.

You hadn’t completely withdrawn from everyone, because that would have only aroused suspicions that you could not have explained away. You did still reply in the group chat as if everything was fine, telling them that you were simply very busy and needed this time to focus on studying so you could stay on top of your courses. Whether they believed it or not was a different matter, but they left you be.

Hyunjin, however, knew you better and had been texting you the minute you bolted from him at the boba shop. He had also texted you the following three days, checking in if you were okay, if there was anything he could do, if you wanted to talk. You appeased him with excuses and conversation that you were sure he was seeing straight through. You weren’t actively trying to push him away, but whenever you received a text for him your brain shut down and you couldn’t help but feel as if everything you held dear was crumbling. Eventually Hyunjin gave up, and you weren’t surprised when, two days later on a Saturday midday, you finally received a text from Chan.

[11:14 AM] From: Chan 🐺

You might be able to fool the guys but you’re not smooth enough to fool me.

[11:14 AM] I can’t force you to tell me what’s wrong but what you’re doing is unhealthy.

[11:16 AM] To: Chan 🐺

Studying? I agree...

[11:17 AM] From: Chan 🐺

I ain’t buying it.

There wasn’t another message for a couple of minutes and you thought that maybe you had avoided this conversation, even though Chan was undoubtedly disappointed you didn’t even talk to him after years of friendship. But just when you were ready to put this from your mind and focus on something else your phone buzzed again.

[11:23 AM] From: Chan 🐺

Are you in love with Hyunjin again?

You were staring at your own phone screen in disbelief, half a heart to throw the device against the wall and move out of the country, but that would only confirm Chan’s suspicions. How did he even figure that out, having seen you once since that night and not again after that.

[11:24 AM] To: Chan 🐺

No????

[11:25 AM] How did u even get that idea lmao chan I’ve been over him for the last two years

[11:26 AM] From: Chan 🐺

He told me you’re barely answering his texts. Thinks he’s pissed you off but the last time you got like that was when you thought you could get over your crush.

[11:27 AM] To: Chan 🐺

Idk what hes talking about, I told you all I’m busy.

You were bordering on snapping at your friends again, and you knew that your replies to Chan right now did nothing to convince him that he wasn’t right. Chan knew you too well, and if he’d already come to the conclusion himself then nothing you said or wrote could convince him otherwise, since he was right and he could tell.

Your phone buzzed again and the only reason you didn’t ignore the message was because you knew Chan would be at your front door in twenty minutes if you did, if he wasn’t on his way here already anyway. But the message wasn’t from Chan.

[11:31 AM] From: Jinnie 🍓

Don't know if u saw in the group chat but there's a pool party at Wooyoung's later today

[11:31 AM] I thought you might wanna come too

[11:33 AM] I miss you.

I miss you. You read over those last three words again and again, ready to tear your hair out in frustration. He was missing his friend, of course he was, you had barely talked, let alone seen each other in a week, when you usually spent almost every day together. But the way those three words made your chest constrict and filled your stomach with a jittery feeling was absolutely ridiculous.

You had indeed seen the messages about the party in the group chat, but initially immediately decided that you would not go. But now that Hyunjin had asked you and you thought about it, it started to sound more and more like a great idea. Jung Wooyoung was was ridiculously rich and ridiculously spoiled, and if he threw a party it would be big. What better opportunity to prove to yourself that you were not in love with Hyunjin, than to go to a party filled with drunk frat boys? If nothing else, the alcohol would at least surely serve as another unhealthy coping mechanism to distract you. Your feelings for Hyunjin, if you could even call them that, were merely a crush anyways, and you were a big girl who could get over a crush, even though you knew that Chaeryoung would be telling you that this plan screamed disaster if you told her about it.

[11:35 AM] To: Jinnie 🍓

sure ill be there 👍

[11:35 AM] miss you too!

It seemed to have become a common theme that you were running late where Hyunjin was concerned. You had taken too long for your make up, to choose what outfit to wear even though you ultimately settled on a cute swimsuit, an oversized t-shirt and shorts, as you had known you would.

You had told Hyunjin you missed him and that wasn’t a lie, but that only made the situation infinitely worse. You wanted to be able to act normal around him, to be friends with him exactly the way you used to be. It had been easy and comfortable and in the span of little over a week it had all be turned upside down. Now you were stuck in this awkward vacuum where you desperately missed your friend, yet every time you saw him your heart pinched and you couldn’t even look at him without behaving off.

The fact that he was so patient with you even though he had no idea what had happened to have you act so distant only spoke volumes about how good of a friend he really was, and it was high time you got your act together, because you did not want to lose this friendship, and acting the way you were, you were on the best way to achieving that.

With that resolution you approached Wooyoung’s house, the music audible even before you entered the front lawn. Sprinklers were placed on the lush green lawn, a few people lingering and shoving each other in the water. It was only six pm so the sun was still up high and strong. You entered the house, unsure where to start looking for your friends but you figured the back yard with the pool would be a good start.

It helped that they were usually loud, because as soon as you entered the garden through the balcony doors you had no trouble spotting Changbin and Felix in the crowd of people. They were in the pool, drenched head to toe because they were apparently fighting to see who could drown the other first. Letting your eyes pass on you found Chan with Seungmin by the lounge chairs, both a drink in hand. They had clearly spotted you too and were waving you over enthusiastically. You plopped down next to Chan on his lounge chair, eyeing his drink before you decided it was save and stole it from his grip to take a tentative sip, poking your tongue out at him.

“Okay, hello to you, too,” Chan laughed, grabbing his drink back before you could finish it for him. You greeted them both with a hug, surprised at how easy going it was now that you were here. It might have been because Chan and Seungmin weren’t the problem, but you decided not to dwell on it.

“Hi, sorry I’m late, I had to put together this killer outfit,” you explained, pointing at your oversized shirt, a strawberry stitched right in the middle.

“I can tell.” Chan laughed and you lightly punched him in the shoulder at his slander.

“You didn’t miss much, don’t worry,” Seungmin added, his own drink seemingly full and untouched because Seungmin was the responsible one of the group most of the time. “Changbin and Felix have been continuously trying to drown each other for the last hour, we’ve lost count of who’s winning. Minho is somewhere getting shitfaced with some guys from the dance department. Those dudes are so whack I didn’t even dare dwelve further into it.”

You pulled a face in sympathy, agreeing with Seungmin. Minho’s friends were… something else. If he was drinking with them, you wouldn’t be seeing much of him today and it was probably for the better, because they usually didn’t leave it at just drinking and while Minho could be eccentric when sober, high Minho was a lot.

“Jisung?” you asked, trying to spot him.

“Over at the bar with Jeongin.”

“And you let them go together?!” you spluttered because usually both Seungmin and Chan were big on treating Jeongin like a kid you all had to protect simply because he was a little younger than the rest of you.

“I’m not so much worried about Jeongin as I am about Jisung. Or did you forget that one time Jeongin convinced us to let him mix our drinks and you ended up throwing up after one Long Island Ice Tea?”

Thinking back to that evening with a shiver you had to agree with Chan. “I actually don’t remember,” you laughed. “Might be because that devil child mixed everything into that drink except for anything anti-alcoholic. Now I’m worried about Jisung.”

You noticed how neither of them had mentioned Hyunjin. You wanted to ask, but you were actually having a good time, so why ruin it sooner than necessary? Trying to spot Jisung and Jeongin over at the bar you let your eyes drift towards it, but you didn’t get much farther than the pool. You immediately knew why Chan had not said anything about Hyunjin and you really wished your chest wouldn’t feel as if someone had ripped it open. He was in the pool, wearing a white shirt for no apparent reason other than that the way it clung to his skin was surely driving everyone in proximity crazy. His long hair was wet, slicked back in a casual manner that implied he had ran his wet hand through it a lot. The problem wasn’t that he looked good enough to make you forget why you couldn’t be more than friends. The problem was that he wasn’t alone his hand resting lazily on another girl’s waist. Your brain shut down for a moment, unable to take in anything but the way he was touching her bare skin, until she laughed and turned a little more towards you and you unmistakably recognized Chaeyoung. So much for not wanting her.

You couldn’t blame him, heck, you had even tried to set him up, but somehow actually seeing her talk to him as intimately as they were was a whole other thing. He looked so heartbreakingly gorgeous, and you couldn’t deny that Chaeyoung looked good withhim.

You knew you shouldn’t be watching but you couldn’t look away. You always thought Hyunjin was just a naturally touchy person. You always told yourself the way he was with you was nothing special. But you also knew in your heart of hearts that you had always hoped that it was special, that it did mean more. Seeing him with Chaeyoung now though you knew with certainty that the way he usually touched you was nothing. You had clearly never witnessed Hyunjin flirting before.

His hand was constantly in his hair, mussing up the long strands as if he knew exactly how good he looked with a few stray, wet strands in his face, drops of water chasing down the column of his neck. There was a light smile on his face, somewhere between a smirk and a genuinely nice smile, and god, he kept biting his full bottom lip. Chaeyoung was so close to him, Hyunjin’s hand not leaving her hip, and even from a distance you caught the way he was pressing his fingertips into her skin. You knew what it felt like and you couldn’t blame Chaeyoung for subtly inching closer to him. Yeah, you were definitely staring too much.

“Did they come here together?” you asked instead, the nonchalance in your voice a little too strained to be genuine, but the music was loud, people were shouting and just maybe neither Chan nor Seungmin caught it.

“Nope.” Chan let the word hang in the air for a moment, probably savoring that he knew exactly just how much you were dying for him to spill any more information. Seungmin, who was either just nicer or hadn’t caught up on what was going on, was your saving grace.

“Hyunjin came with us and we were waiting for you when Chaeyoung approached him. Asked if he wanted to help her with some game in the poolagainst Momo and San. Actually, that was a pretty smooth move of her because look where it got her. I’ve never seen Hyunjin flirt like that with a girl he just met. With any girl, really.” Neither had you. You had always kept the firm believe that Hyunjin subtly flirted with everyone but compared to what was going on with Chaeyoung right now, he had never flirted with you except that one night when he’d been drunk and wanted to check his bucket list, apparently.

As if Seungmin could read your mind he added, more subdued, “Well except you, but we all know you’re just friends.”

“She’s very pretty. They look good together,” you pressed out, ignoring how difficult it was for you to even say that, even though it was the truth.

You were still staring at them, despite better judgement, so you did not see the exchange between Chan and Seungmin until the latter got up, stating he would get you all new drinks.

“You looked like you needed something strong,” Chan offered up in an empathetic explanation and you rolled your eyes, knowing that with Seungmin gone, of course he would immediately pick up where your earlier text conversation had left off.

“Not because of them.” You denied, before Chan got the opportunity to say anything. “Like I said, they look good together. And anyway, I’m the one who tried to set him up with her. This is what I wanted.”

The words came easier the second time, and if it weren’t for the hollow feeling in your chest you could have even almost believed them. But your gaze stayed glued on the pool, and now Hyunjin was brushing his thumb over her lips and you could tell Chaeyoung was melting.

“You should just tell him, you know. He probably thinks he did something wrong, and I figured I’m not the one to tell him what the actual problem is.”

He was of course referring back to your earlier conversation and about how he was so sure your crush on Hyunjin was back with a vengeance. If only Chan knew what the real problem was, which was so much more complicated than just a crush. But you were not about to disclose that information, now or ever.

“There’s nothing to tell him, Chan. My crush is found dead in a ditch. Abandoned, starved, withered away,” you forced your eyes away from the two, focusing on Chan instead as if that would prove a point. “Feelings for Hyunjin? I don’t know them.”

For a moment Chan only looked at you, with that one specific gaze that your mother had also perfected, and that made you feel all the worst ways of guilty about lying. But you wouldn’t give in, not about this. What would even be the point of admitting that you were crushing on your friend again, if only to make the problem all the more real and imminent. Ignoring it until it went away had worked before and it would work again, and Hyunjin getting awfully close with a very pretty girl would only help.

“You do know that could be you, right?”

Now your head did whip around, making the mistake of looking again and, god, Hyunjin’s face was buried in the crook of her neck but with his wet hair out of his face you caught the way he bit down, tongue darting out a moment after. How Chaeyoung was still standing upright was beyond you. You had been in that situation. For just a few moments this had been you and you were built different, going weak in the knees from just the thought.

But Chan didn’t know that. On surface level what he just said was ridiculous in your eyes, and you were hellbent on conveying that, and that only.

“Now how could that be me?” you questioned, fully ignoring that it had been you a week ago. It had only taken Hyunjin getting drunk and ignoring the fact that he was putting the friendship on the line to give you a taste of what was otherwise unachievable to you. It wasn’t comparable to sober Hyunjin kissing up Chaeyoung’s neck with very clear intentions. “That’s right, it couldn’t be.” You answered your own question before Chan could. “Hyunjin is a friend.”

“Yes, clearly he’s just a friend to you.”

You sighed impatiently, shoulders slumping because everything seemed to always be coming back to this.

“It doesn’t matter what Ifeel,” you disregarded the jab, subliminally admitting to Chan that he had been right, but it didn’t matter because he had known already even without you confirming it. “If it were up to me, then yes, I’d replace myself with Chaeyoung in a heartbeat. But that’s not what Hyunjin wants, since he’s touching her like that, and not me.”

The words sounded as bitter as you felt. Not towards Chaeyoung, who had simply gotten lucky, but towards your whole situation of having this hopeless, stupid crush.

Of course Seungmin chose exactly that moment to resurface from the bar, no doubt having heard at least your last sentence. He wordlessly pressed your cup, filled to the brim with something hopefully strong, in your hand and settled down opposite of you.

“Listen,” he started, and you noticed Chan trying to subtly shake his head and shut Seungmin up, but the boy wasn’t deterred. “I can’t believe you don’t see it. I promised Chan I would stay out of it but you sound miserable. Hyunjin does treat you differently. All the little touches? Yes, he’s a naturally touchy person, but with you it’s softer, it’s- I don’t know, it’s different, and we all can tell.”

Seungmin’s words made your heart ache anew, but you were trying your hardest not to let it show. It didn’t matter what they think they saw, the only thing that mattered were the things Hyunjin said and did, and they spoke volumes to you. “No offense, Seungmin, but all of you are pretty hopeless when it comes to dating so I don’t exactly trust your advice.”

“You’re not wrong-“ Seungmin admitted but raised a finger to stop you from saying anything else and interrupt his speech. “- but my point stands. The way he’s touching Chaeyoung now? We all know what the goal is here, even if the motive confuses me. It’s just not like Hyunjin. But nevermind that, there’s a difference to how he touches you, and it doesn’t say ‘I just want to sleep with you’.”

You huffed, focusing on your drink instead and breaking the eye contact with Seungmin because you didn’t have an answer for him. You didn’t even know what to make of his words. If you thought about it, you always had told yourself that Hyunjin was just touchy, but Seungmin had a point. He was different with you, it was softer, more tentative. But he also had touched you exactly the way he did with Chaeyoung now, so what did that tell you?

He had proven he could get with you, too, and that left you with the same confusion you had felt all along. He had proven he could get with you and tick that off his bucket list. Friends did that, too, of course. You didn’t gain anything from that insight except for the certainty that you had to stop feeling anything other than amicably for him, because he did not reciprocate these feelings in any way.

Panicking slightly, you gripped both your hands onto your solo cup and chugged down a good gulp, coughing as the alcohol washed down your throat. Already raising it to your lips again you caught Chan’s expression, eyebrow raised.

“I know you’re always drinking when you’re trying to avoid something. Are we finally going to talk about this or…?”

“Or!” you grinned, successfully downing the rest of your cup and jumping up in a rush to get a refill.

One cup turned into two cups turned into four cups and you were well into feeling light and much more carefree than you had about an hour ago. You had lost sight of Hyunjin and Chaeyoung, which was quite the feat considering that your eyes couldn’t seem to stay away from them, but somewhere between your third drink and almost being wrestled into the pool by Jisung with all of your clothes on, your mind had stopped keeping track of the two of them.

You weren’t quite sure why you had been so obsessed in the first place when you came here. It was a great party, there was a pool, alcohol, all of your friends were here. So what if Hyunjin was finally hooking up? You had always tried to get him to do that, and hadn’t you told yourself you’d come here precisely to get a distraction as well?

Yeah, maybe you were secretly throwing a little hissy fit because he had texted you he missed you, but he had not even made the time to talk to you since you got here, too busy sucking up on Chaeyoung. He probably hadn’t even noticed you. But you were trying to convince yourself that this was a good thing, this was what you wanted, and with every additional cup you succeeded a bit more.

The sun had stopped burning down quite so mercilessly, but even with sundown the temperatures were high. With the terrace packed with people it was still uncomfortably hot. You weren’t about to jump in a pool at a frat house that was at this point probably as much alcohol as it was water, but you weren’t above settling down on the edge and sticking your legs in to cool down a little.

“You know, usually we throw these parties to see cute girls in tiny bikinis,” a teasing voice piqued up, tone casual and tinged with amusement, telling you that he didn’t mean his words quite so seriously.

“I guess I came to the wrong party, then, but you should have plenty of options,” you pointed out before your gaze fell on the person speaking and your breath got stuck in your chest for just the shortest moment before you caught yourself, relaxing at the edge of the pool. Seonghwa was in swim shorts, long blonde slicked back in wet strands, sunglasses resting on top of them surely solely for effect. He was wearing white sleeveless shirt which he clearly hadn’t bothered taking off before jumping into the pool. With the way it clung to his body and had turned transparent he might as well not be wearing anything, except the thin layer of wet clothing made the whole look so much more delectable. He was fully doing this on purpose, and very much aware of the effect he had. Yeah, he definitely knew he looked good.

“Oh, I wasn’t finished yet.”

You raised an eyebrow in amusement, curious what other line he was about to throw your way.

“I appreciate this get-up,” he lazily waved a finger to indicate he was talking about your oversized shirt hiding your bikini. “Because I do enjoy a good challenge.”

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing at his sleazy comment. The way he delivered it so confidently, as if he truly believed he was the smoothest guy at this whole party was nothing short of hilarious, and it seemed to have been the exact effect he had been going for. He was good.

He knew exactly what to say, when to raise his eyebrow just the slightest bit or when to let his tongue peak out, barely wetting his lips, to push just the right buttons. And it seemed that making you laugh had been exactly the point of his over-the-top comments, because he was wearing a confident grin, chuckling along with you.

“Was that too much?”

You didn’t fail to notice that he was not so subtly inching closer to you, almost close enough to brush your legs tangling in the water with his body.

You playfully dipped your hand into the water, splashing his upper body and shoulders with a few drops of water before you shrugged with a grin of your own.

“You don’t look like someone who struggles with getting a girl out of her shirt, like, at all. I’m not buying it.”

“A shame. Let me try again?” He definitely knew that he already had you hooked, but he still pretended to be making an effort, even though you knew he was mostly doing this to amuse you. This boy really knew how to get what he wanted.

“Sure,” you encouraged him, nodding your head to signal him to go ahead. You didn’t expect him to step up to you, one hand tracing up the outer side of your leg, coming to halt slightly above your knee. He was pushing your legs apart, but so gently that if you didn’t want it you could stop this anytime. But you would’ve lied if you said you weren’t curious how far he was going with this, and his fingertips, wet and cool, felt nice on the warm skin of your thighs. You should have known he wouldn’t stop there, but your breath still hitched when he leant in, strands of his hair falling forward and trickling drops of pool water on your exposed collarbones. His mouth was just close enough to feel his warm breath on your skin but nothing more.

“Wanna take off that shirt and get wet for me?”

And because he wanted to watch the effect he had on you, he didn’t even stay close to let you bask in the feeling of his breath ghosting over your skin. Instead leant back and ran his hand through his wet hair to push the long strands back again.

For a second you were dumbstruck, the words sinking in, before you started laughing even harder than before, noticing the satisfied smirk on his face. You also didn’t fail to notice his hand rising up higher on your thighs, or the way his thumb had started drawing circles on your skin ever since he had stepped closer and didn’t step away again. He was very subtle about it, but at some point between delivering that horrible line and watching your reaction he had eliminated the distance between your bodies, fully standing between your now embarrassingly wide spread legs.

On a whim you raised your hand, running your own fingers through his bleached hair because every time he did it you were itching to do the same. You tugged, just a little to test how he would react, when you reached his lengths. The effect was immediate, his fingers digging into your skin, bottom lip stuck between his teeth to stop the soft moan bubbling over his lips.

“Knew you’d like that one.” His voice was more of a grumble at this point, and you were amazed just how much of an effect a little hair pulling had.

“Actually, it was horrible,” you teased him, a smile playing on your lips while your fingers stayed buried in his hair, toying with the strands and pulling slightly from time to time just to watch him shudder between your legs.

“But it still worked, didn’t it?” he pushed, his fingers inching closer up your inner thigh to indicate what he meant and you didn’t quite manage to suppress the shiver, proving him right. “Were you thinking about fucking me back at the karaoke bar too?”

You didn’t get the chance to come up with a witty reply, because before you could even gather your thoughts you were splashed with such an absurd amount of water it left you drenched from head to toe. Both you and Seonghwa jumped, him pulling away from you and you effectively slipping over the edge of the pool and falling straight into the water with all of your clothes on. You were never happier than in that moment that you had left your bag including your phone with Chan. It didn’t change the fact, however, that you were dripping wet, shirt sticking to your body like a second skin.

“What the actual fuck?!” you sputtered, almost at the same time as Seonghwa, who seemed equally as pissed, both turned towards the person who had decided to jump into the pool right next to you as if they couldn’t tell they were interrupting. Your outrage was joined by the guy who had been responsible for splashing you with water and looked almost more irritated than you. You didn’t know him, but judging by how he was fuming he has clearly not voluntarily jumped in the pool just now. His gaze wasn’t directed at you either, but at someone standing at the edge of the pool. You followed his line of sight, even more confused when you saw it was Hyunjin, drink in one hand and the other one raised in mock defense because the cocky grin on his face told a whole other story.

“What’s your problem, dude?!” the boy burst up and Hyunjin had the audacity to shrug, not even really looking at the other guy, catching your gaze instead.

“Oops, I’m so sorry,” Hyunjin downright drawled, and you would’ve exploded if you wouldn’t have been so confused what on earth had gotten into him. You ignored the huffing of the dude crawling out of the pool, the same way Hyunjin ignored the dirty look he threw him for intentionally pushing him into the pool. It wasn’t like Hyunjin and you were utterly dumbfounded what he was suddenly acting like this, the only indication being the cup in his hand and the clear lilt to his voice, although even drunk he had never been like this before.

“I sure hope I didn’t ruin the mood, you two seemed awfully cozy.”

You had never heard him speak in such a venomous, mean tone. This wasn’t your Hyunjin, because in three years of friendship he had never spoken to you or anyone else with the intention to hurt. He was many things, overly-dramatic, exaggerating and sometimes even extremely petty, but Hyunjin wasn’t cruel. Until now.

You just wanted him to stop talking but he pushed on, ignoring the pained look on your face if he even caught it. He seemed a little too drunk to have any tactfulness.

“Nice of you to show up, by the way. I can tell you missed me by how you’re trying to hop onto his dick.”

His last words were a sneer, head nodding towards Seonghwa, whose presence you felt closely behind you. Your mind immediately jumped back to the conversation during karaoke night, and how Hyunjin had decided that Seonghwa wasn’t worth of your attention, but you hadn’t thought he was quite so serious about this. You were old enough to decide for yourself if you wanted a hook-up, and hadn’t he been the one doing the same thing earlier? And he had not come to talk to you either, even though he allegedly missed you, so it was extremely hypocritical of him to blame you for that. At least you had given him space and freedom with his hook-up, because it simply wasn’t your business and you had no claim on him. You had hoped this party would finally smooth things over between Hyunjin and you after he had invited you and told you he missed you, but if anything it had only torn you more apart. Not because he had snuggled up to Chaeyoung, but because you couldn’t wrap your mind around how hurtful he was behaving towards you right now, without any good reason.

If you didn’t know any better you would have called his behavior jealousy. But you weren’t delusional, and even if it was true there had been many instances where Hyunjin had his chance to make his intentions clear.

He was the one who didn’t remembe he fingered you. You were sure his current words and behavior would eventually cut deep but right at that moment it only filled you with an anger to rival his.

“You’re clearly drunk, Hyunjin. Go home and get sober, and then we can talk about whatever just went down here.”

You tried to keep your voice even and calm despite how riled up this situation had left you. He wouldn’t be saying these things if he were sober, and if for nothing but the sake of your friendship you would give him the courtesy to explain himself when he was sober and had his thoughts together. You wouldn’t, however, let him ruin your night and this party. Seonghwa had clearly been aching for a hook-up and if anything, this fight and a good distraction could only help to move on from Hyunjin. Deciding that nothing good would come from this now you turned to Seonghwa, who was watching the whole exchange with mild interest until now, trying not to look too obviously amused.

“Can I borrow a shirt of yours or something? Seems like I did end up dripping wet after all,” you directed towards him with a cringe and the switch in his face was immediate, going from amusement to focusing his whole attention on you with something much more intense underlying.

“Sure, angel.” He was nodding his head towards the edge of the pool, helping you out of the water, your wet clothes gushing and effectively drenching the whole side of the terrace where you were standing. You wouldn’t have actually cared, but Hyunjin’s whole intention had been to fuck up your evening, and you were determined to go through with this if only out of spite. If Seonghwa caught on, which was hard not to, he clearly didn’t care because he lifted himself out of the pool after you, giving yourself a good eyeful of his arms flexing, water dripping down his back in a way that made you dig your nails into your palm. Stepping up to you and completely ignoring Hyunjin, which was quite the feat because he was glaring daggers at you at this point, Seonghwa wrapped an arm around your waist smoothly as if he had done it many times before.

“Just checking, but we’re going upstairs so I can fuck you, right?”

“God, yes.”

#hyunjin #hyunjin smut #stray kids #stray kids smut #hwang hyunjin

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