Stuart Twombly x reader

16

 You loop your arm with Neha's as you enter the club, unsure of exactly how to feel. Nick announced to you when visiting you on your afternoon shift that the six of you would be going to some kind of club - not your scene at all - and Neha had begged you to come with her.

 "Please, I don't want it to be just me and the boys," she pleaded, blinking at you beseechingly, and you groaned, caving and letting her squeal as she went crazy with your make-up and chose one of your dresses to wear.

 You had felt foolish as you approached the boys, your face caked in make-up and your silky dress swishing about your knees enticingly, feeling unusually shy, but you could only feel satisfaction when you saw the boys' eyes pop when they took in your get-up, particularly when Stuart actually looked over his phone with wide eyes, though he remained as silent as always and looked straight back down, turning away from you to your dismay.

 The second you step into the club properly, your stomach drops: strippers, or at least exotic dancers. You take in the smoky, erotic atmosphere and enormous breasts with women attached strutting around and take a sharp breath, clutching Neha harder. You break away when Billy approaches and walk towards Nick, wondering whether or not to question what is happening right now and if you are in fact awake and in male-paradise, but hover just behind him and Stuart when a woman with watermelon's over her chest stops in front of them.

 You watch as she takes Stuart's fingers into his mouth and makes him practically dribble, his phone forgotten, and your heart misses a beat, a frown etching onto your face. You look down at his back and shoulders - where did they come from? They were nice - and wonder internally what to do.

 A hand touches your shoulder and you turn to see Lyle blinking at you with pity, his fingers tapping you sorrowfully. "Don't worry about it, y/n. You're still special."

 You wonder how much he knows about your feelings and fake a smile, grinning almost too wide and grab his sleeve as if you are excited, dragging him to the bar. "What are you talking about? Let's go and get some drinks!" you yell, as if you are the ultimate party girl, and chant over and over in your head to act like you're okay, though your stomach feels heavy and something uncomfortable and hazy lingers in your mind. After Nick and Billy question if you are okay with the strip club thing, with Nick glancing at Stuart pointedly and back to you, you shook it off, holding up your glass and clinking it with theirs.

 It's an uphill struggle when you settle down with the alcohol left on the table and eventually accidentally drank by one of your friends, unable to tear your eyes away from the stream of girls dancing on Stuart, and his reactions. Clearly, you notice bitterly, he is loving it, and you're definitely out of the picture now. You sit with your legs tense and fists clenched on top of your knees, hunched over slightly and digging at your fingers with your nails, alternating between watching Stuart a few feet away and staring moodily at your alcohol, debating whether or not to drink it. You are so focused on these two things - and the sensation of your insides being eaten away - that you don't notice Yo-yo's frequent bathroom trips or Lyle's cute relationship starter, two things that would've made you smile.

 You barely notice that you're getting dragged out of the club by Neha when things get heavy and punches have been thrown, and only snap out of your daze, the image of the drunken women stuck in your head, when Neha shakes your arm and leans close as you walk down the street at the back of the group. "You okay?"

 You can't lie to her any more and the second you all stop to stare at the bridge in the early morning light, the car lights dancing as they speed over the structure ahead, you let her wrap her arms around you and sigh, eyes stinging with tears but not quite ready to cry. You're more annoyed than anything, and bright green with jealousy all over. You aren't at the stage of wanting to grind on Stuart and put his fingers in your mouth quite yet* but you don't want anybody else doing it. Or touching him. Or capturing their attention.

 You watch the glittering lights below, leaning against Neha with tiredness and comfort, and say, "If nipple tassels is what it takes to get his attention, I give up."

 You expect Neha to freak out and shout, "I knew you liked him!" like you're sure she wants to, but instead she holds you tighter for a moment and mutters, "Those girls aren't you. Tassels or no tassels. And he knows it."

 You huff and let her extract herself from you to join Billy, leaving you to watch the cars and take in the exact dim shade of blue in the sky to calm your hot blood and pumping heart. From your seat on the ground, cross-legged in the dust with the dress of your skirt stretched over your knees, you hear your name behind you uttered in a low voice, and turn around automatically; though you are blinking blearily, exhausted, your name captures your attention.

 You see Nick looking at you regrettably, as if caught out speaking your name too loud, and accidentally lock eyes with Stuart, who looks down on you with equal tiredness. The second your eyes meet, something furious shrieks inside you and you turn back around, hunching your shoulders and staring back at the hue of the sky above, wishing the image of Stuart drooling over several woman would exit your mind.

That's when you realise it's official: you don't want to let go of Stuart that easily, whether he likes it or not. Even if he doesn't feel the same way - all you can decipher from his bipolar relationship with you is that he doesn't - you can't stand the thought of him belonging to someone else. And, for some reason, that revelation lights a candle of hope inside you, a tiny happiness creeping into your system at the realisation of that emotion.

*Well, maybe, maybe not.