#(don’t ask why i know the exact date by memory)

[wawataka]

i waited years for mob psycho 100 season three i can wait for the third years of good omens

[silkscream]

once bitten, twice shy

megumi fushiguro x reader

ੈ✩ wc: 3.1k (i cannot write anything under 2k to save my life)

ੈ✩ tags: emotionally constipated megumi, tsundere basically, friends to lovers, a lil angst, not actually unrequited love, pining, alcohol, typical yuuji nobara antics

ੈ✩ a/n: this is not xmas themed despite the title BUT it does end up taking place on satoru's birthday for plot reasons. megumi fushiguro your intimacy issues bewitch me mind body and soul.....

megumi does not know what to do with his feelings.

he’s never been the type to be particularly in touch with them — he didn’t remember his parents enough to blame them for whatever avoidant attachment he’d accustomed himself to. or maybe, that was the exact cause of said attachment style. gojo taking him in when he was a child didn’t help either — the man also refused to be very vulnerable around him, merely acting as a benefactor and a nuisance at best.

and while he was closest to tsumiki, he’d still built up a wall around himself that she couldn’t get through, and she knew it. she couldn’t break through it in his pre-teen years, and certainly not his teenage years when he was taking out his aggression on his classmates. he would ignore her soothing words and resent her kindness. perhaps he’d taken after toji in that way. constantly fending for himself for the sake of survival. always convinced that he was doomed to be alone.

and then there was you.

he’d met you first at jujutsu tech before any of the other students could. after sparring with maki, he’d been dismissed to shoko’s office. he’d opened the door that september day and was immediately met with your wide eyes, your searing cursed energy. gojo had found another stray.

shoko had made him your first experiment and you excelled. his injuries were healed within minutes. if anything, he felt better than he had in months — after battling insomnia and panic attacks, he felt… calm. like his brain was cleansed and that he had nothing to stress about. (until the next time gojo had gotten on his nerves.)

your introduction to his class was nothing extravagant despite gojo’s theatrics. megumi couldn’t help but keep his eyes on you after that — during practice battles, lectures, or lunch. he was always hyperaware of your presence. he blamed it on your cursed energy.

he hates how enthusiastic yuuji is about you, how yuuji tells him about how he manages to get you alone even though you often keep to yourself, and how he thinks you’re so fucking pretty, and that you’d agreed to watch the human earthworm movies with him. (megumi had refused when yuuji asked.)

he stews in that anger quietly because he’d rather die than let anyone know. nobara knows better, of course. she teases him about it and brings up jealousy.

why should megumi ever be jealous of yuuji? the boy was a freak accident in human form, with no inherent technique. who fucking cares that he can make you laugh without any effort?

it doesn’t matter. it doesn’t. because you have no direct effect on megumi and you don’t distract him during school. he doesn’t cling onto the memory of your hands on his skin. he doesn’t wish for the feeling again. of course not.

he tells this to yuuji and nobara, too. there’s one day where nobara goes too far — she teases him about setting up a date, that you rave about him, that he’s definitely your type. megumi doesn’t believe a word of it, especially because you’re probably more comfortable with yuuji. he doesn’t care to date because it would hold him back. he’s too focused on his training, on being the best, because he’s determined to follow in gojo’s shadow even if he won’t admit it. he could be the second strongest. he could be the most reliable.

it comes out in all the wrong ways. he’s more irritable than usual, so he yells at nobara instead of seething in hushed tones. he rants about how he does’t need someone by his side, certainly not you, whose only benefit is to heal superficial injuries and not much else. how your combat skills are poor, how easily you get beat when you spar on the field. how compared to him, you’re weak, so you’re of no use.

unfortunately, you hear him. every thought on his mind that tumbles out of his stupid mouth, his tone spewing wrath. you know that megumi is a moody person, but you’d never think him to be mean.

you pretend you’re just passing by, but from the faces nobara and yuuji are making, megumi already senses your presence. the color drains from his face, cobalt eyes wide.

“i’m — i’m sorry, i didn’t mean —“

“it’s okay, fushiguro,” you say softly. even after that shitshow, you’re still fucking smiling. it puts a sinking feeling in megumi’s stomach.

“ah, i got an extra pack of mochi and thought you guys would like it.”

you hand over a small bag and megumi takes it wordlessly.

“that’s so sweet,” yuuji beams, attempting to deflect. “hey, i was just looking for you. do you happen to have those jujutsu history notes? kugisaki spilled a soda on mine.”

“you knocked it over!” nobara protests.

“you put it on top of my stuff!”

you take your notebook out of your bag and hand it to yuuji graciously, avoiding megumi’s gaze and making up an excuse to see all of them later.

apparently, “later” means a week after. megumi sees you in class, and while he attempts to walk you to the dining hall or invite you to hang out, you bolt out the door before catching anyone’s attention. he has to find out how you are from fucking yuuji, who somehow gets to see you around the dorms every other day.

“i think she just likes to keep to herself, s’all,” yuuji says. he can sense megumi’s anxiety just from being in the same room as him.

“but you see her all the time.”

“she’s been tutoring me a little. and we just like the same movies and stuff.”

yuuji shrugs casually. his nonchalance makes megumi’s blood boil, because of course he’s the one who gets to occupy all of your time. of course you’re probably most comfortable with him. he knows he shouldn’t be seething at the thought of you two together — it isn’t his right. but his jealousy is starting to get the best of him lately.

“are you guys together?” he blurts out.

“no?” yuuji furrows his brows. “if anything, i feel like nobara might be trying to make a move since she’s way nicer to her than she is to us. except i’m pretty sure she and maki have been going out lately.”

“maki?”

“dude, keep up!”

and when yuuji accuses of megumi having a crush again, the same way nobara did all those weeks ago before he made a fucking fool of himself, megumi shuts it down with a grimace and a blush. he’s merely concerned about your wellbeing is what it is. that’s what he’s able to muster up to yuuji, of course, who absolutely isn’t buying it based on his shit-eating grin.

it’s annoying, especially because yuuji can make you feel more comfortable, comfortable enough to hang with the whole trio, and the pink-haired bastard has to meddle like a little troll. bumping the two of you into each other like you’re in middle school. somehow, it worsens everything. not your dynamic, but megumi’s self-consciousness.

he was already so extremely aware of you, but now he’s convinced that some angel above has tied the red string between you both extra tight. megumi looks for you in every crowd, awaits your arrival every day in the classroom and at lunch, and it’s starting to feel pathetic — the lightness in his chest whenever you’re even so much as ten feet away. his heart even beats faster at the anticipation of your text in the group chat, for fuck’s sake.

and then there’s gojo’s birthday party, a surprise orchestrated by the four of you, despite megumi’s reluctance. you’re particularly more radiant than usual. maybe it’s the lighting. maybe it’s the dress you have on.

despite the amount of shots he’s been forced to take in the past hour (three), megumi is still sober enough to feel anxious around you. though, he thinks he might be drunk enough to be lost in your image, fixating on your collarbone and the way your hair falls in your face as you laugh at one of gojo’s stupid jokes. it’s when the two of you lock eyes that megumi feels out of it, because you smile at him. you fucking smile.

if the warmth of the liquor wasn’t currently raising heated blood to his head, he’d deny the sparks that came from the mere sight of your smile, but he was hopeless. you’re mesmerizing. dizzying. he doesn’t know what to do with his face, not when his cheeks are flushing red and his motor skills are slowing down. fuck, maybe he was a lightweight like gojo after all.

he’s clearly out of touch with reality, because the moment fades as soon as it comes. perhaps it wasn’t a moment at all. he watches you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, your mouth moving slowly as you mingle with other classmates. he’s fucking fixated on your mouth — your lipstick tonight is a blush red with a shiny gloss reflecting light. megumi has only dreamed of what your lips would taste like once or twice. no more than that. he swears on it.

there’s brief eye contact between the two of you again for half a second. there’s a coy smile on your face as always before you slip out the back door of the house.

there are so many bottles around the place that no one will notice megumi taking an entire bottle of champagne for himself. he scowls at the taste, of sickeningly sweet pears — courtesy of gojo, probably. his head swims and thinks of you.

his momentary peace is rudely interrupted by the sound of nobara’s voice in his ear, asking for you.

“ijichi’s setting up karaoke!”

“there is no way in hell that i’m—”

“i don’t care what you do, emo, but i need her to do a duet!”

megumi heaves a sigh, making his way to the backyard where he finds you sitting on a tree stump. even with the dim fairy lights, he probably would’ve missed you if not for the cherried end of your cigarette.

“fushiguro-kun,” you nod at him.

“megumi,” he rasps. “just… megumi is fine.”

“oh, i get special privileges now? how come?”

there’s no mirth in your tone. you’re teasing him. he doesn’t answer your question.

(the mere act of you teasing him becomes an intimacy in itself — he had never thought that you would be comfortable enough to talk to him in jest. you’d maintained your distance from him fairly well.)

“didn’t know you smoked.”

“only when i drink,” you shrug. “ieiri-san doesn’t make much of an effort to hide her cigarettes, either. don’t tell on me, though.”

“wouldn’t dream of it.”

he doesn’t know where to look. luckily, you’re not looking at him, so he can settle his gaze on your mouth nursing the cigarette. plump. glossy under the moonlight.

megumi is not used to wanting. he had never asked gojo for anything during his adolescence, and refused any gesture of kindness from anyone. he was convinced since childhood that there was no point in desire because disappointment would be on the other end of it either way.

he’d like to be a monk about it. he could control himself and focus on his studies. never spare you a glance again that isn’t platonic. and then a cool december wind blows past the two of you, and he smells your amber perfume.

and when he turns his head, you’re looking at him, eyes bright.

“so… not enjoying the party?”

“i’m not really one for parties.”

“me neither,” you shrug. “that’s why i like to do my little ritual of escaping.”

“we have that in common.”

you hum, a noncommittal noise. you take another drag of your cigarette, which disintegrates slowly.

“what a pair, the two of us.”

megumi can’t pick up any sarcasm from your voice, though he assumes it. it makes his stomach drop even though the statement is harmless. the two of you. together. it makes endless futures bloom in his mind. maybe it’s the prosecco, but it almost makes him want to vomit. to think that he was even good enough to be beside you in your future.

you curse quietly when you pull your phone out of your jacket pocket to check the time, realizing it’s dead. megumi gives you a once-over. the jacket you’re wearing is all too familiar. like him, you’re not one to wear very many colors. but this jacket is bright red, varsity style, and oversized on you.

“is that itadori’s jacket?” megumi stammers.

“oh, yeah. i didn’t realize how cold it would be tonight.”

“oh.”

“why?” you give him a curious smile.

“nothing,” he coughs. “are… you two…”

you laugh and it’s like a song to him.

“i think he might be my best friend, s’all. why? you jealous?”

he looks at you again, head-on, your eyes still bright. brighter than fluorescents. there’s something in your irises that is meant to provoke him, but he’s dispensed of his usual cautious nature after he takes another gulp from the bottle.

“more than you can imagine,” he huffs.

“sorry?”

“’m not repeating that.”

“what, you’re not saying you’re like, into me, are you?” you exasperate.

megumi remains silent, cheeks flushed. he thinks that if his head could heat up any more, he’d end up with a migraine.

you breathe the tiniest gasp. if it wasn’t for how close megumi was to you, he wouldn’t have noticed.

“i kind of thought you hated me, you know,” you admit.

“i could never hate you. i don’t think anyone could.”

“you don’t have to pretend,” you sigh. he didn’t notice until now that your cigarette was finished, discarded onto the dirt with your boot to crush it into ash. “i— beyond the politeness, i get it. that i’m not your type or whatever. you don’t even have to be friends with me, fushiguro-kun.”

“megumi,” he emphasizes.

“megumi.”

“i’m not pretending. i… i really fucking like you,” he slurs. “it kind of scares me how much.”

“you’re drunk.”

“i am. i know you heard me say all that shit to kugisaki and itadori, but it’s because they put me on the spot and i was nervous. i don’t know how to… deal with feelings. honestly, if i wasn’t even a little drunk right now, i’d probably have left the party with my tail in between my legs and avoided you for the next fucking week, and you don’t deserve that. you deserve… everything.”

“even you?”

when did you get so close to him? if he sauntered just a few inches in your direction, he could touch your noses together. he can smell your perfume so deeply.

“it’s the other way around,” megumi breathes. “i don’t deserve you. not anything close to you.”

“what if i want you regardless?” your voice is just above a whisper. a prayer, a hymn. a wish to be blown out.

megumi swallows the lump in his throat. he blinks at you, dark indigo luminescent. the world slows down. he may owe it to the liquor and the wine, but he assumes it’s just your presence. your scent, the softness of your hair in between his fingers, your soft breaths.

“what do you want, megumi-kun?”

he remembers something gojo said. that to be a jujutsu sorcerer, he has to be selfish. he’s not sure if that philosophy applies to the situation at hand, but he’d be damned if he let you crawl into bed tonight without knowing how he truly felt about you. so, uncharacteristically, he takes a leap forward.

he unwinds the tension in his body and presses his lips to yours. it’s soft, chaste, innocent. something like a pause. he’s afraid to touch you, but you’ve already reeled him in with arms thrown around his shoulders, fingertips touching the softness of his black hair.

you bump your nose with his, shyly, and he kisses you open-mouthed. tongue in your mouth, meshing the taste of tobacco and prickly pear. the vanilla chapstick that he’d put on before he followed you out to the backyard.

he has one hand caressing your jaw and the other on your shoulder, thumb brushing over your collarbone in a way that makes your entire body shiver. you’re embarrassed at the pool of desire in between your legs.

megumi has never let himself be full of wanting, but at the moment, his veins are surging with it. it’s like a drug to him — your warmth, your scent, the saccharine taste of your mouth. your flesh is so soft, so pliable, from the way you dip towards the cavern of his lanky body, pressed against him chest to chest. letting his hand dig into the fat of your hip. fingertips grazing the skin underneath your shirt.

maybe it’s the liquor, but he’s feeling experimental — he tucks your bottom lip in between his teeth. pulls your hair ever so slightly. you mewl into his mouth quietly and he thinks that he’s never felt anything better than this. you’re wrapped up in all of him. you can quite literally feel the heat on his cheeks and both of you realize how aroused he is, his bulge prodding your thigh.

“fuck,” he whispers into your mouth, and he pulls away. only a few inches are separating you as he takes a moment to breathe. his eyes are blown out wide, black stretching across dark blue. both of you are stunned, panting, and the tension is more palpable than ever.

a rustling of grass makes both of you jump. when he turns, he sees yuuji and nobara staring with wide eyes.

“you owe me 7,000 yen,” yuuji deadpans to nobara.

“seriously, fushiguro? i didn’t think you had it in you!”

“i always had faith in you, fushiguro!” yuuji chimes.

while you giggle, megumi growls under his breath at the new intrusions of dumb and dumber.

“i personally thought you were way out of his league,” nobara tells you.

“eat shit.” megumi seethes with arms crossed, and despite his wrath, he resembles more of an angry kitten to you than any potential threat.

“sheesh, don’t summon a shikigami on them, megumi,” you tease with a pleased grin.

“i—” he stumbles over his words in frustration, grimacing. “what do the two of you want, anyway?”

“gojo-sensei got ijichi to sing doja cat.”

“oh, i’ve gotta see this,” you snort, grabbing megumi by the hand as you begin to usher the crew back inside. his heart leaps at the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his.

despite his inhibitions, megumi’s decided that he could get used to this.

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹。here, just for you | bakugo katsuki

wc: 1.0k summary: you give bakugo flowers, and he can’t figure out why. contains: implied f!reader but i don’t mention anything specific, talks about flowers and a kind of early established relationship, just fluff and bakugo getting flustered while going through the motions of a relationship!  a/n: this is aged up to when bakugo is a pro! i envision him maturing a lot and mellowing out a little so hopefully this captures that!

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

Bakugo doesn’t know what to expect, stepping into his office after a long day on patrol—actually, scratch that. Bakugo doesn’t expect anything, really, besides his office to look the exact same way he left it this morning: pristine and orderly. 

And it is, for the most part—save for a small bouquet of flowers sitting delicately on his desk. 

It isn’t uncommon for him to receive some; companies and politicians often send them to express their good graces. But those usually go through PR first, along with the many other trinkets and letters received from fans. 

So, it shouldn’t really be a big deal, except, flowers have never appeared in his office, on his desk, with a note written in your handwriting, until now. 

Bakugo prides himself on his good memory; he remembers holidays, birthdays, and since being with you—potential anniversaries too. But there’s nothing, complete zilch that comes up when he tries to recall what today could be. 

He furrows his brows, looking for your contact on his phone. Most of his hero costume is gone now, all of the chunky pieces stored away to reveal the plain black jumpsuit he wears underneath. Clunky boots replaced by rubber shoes he wears more and more these days. 

He reaches for the bouquet while his phone rings, fingers sliding through the leaves softly. It’s a simple arrangement: a few gerberas and tulips standing out in pink and orange against small bunches of baby’s breath and cocculus. There’s a homeyness to it he can only attribute to you. 

“Katsuki?” you pick up, warmth and affection coming through.

“Y’got me flowers?” he asks gruffly, thumbing the note you’d written. 

There’s nothing on it but ‘For Katsuki’ in your cursive. No indication of what it’s for, or why you’d given it in the first place. He’s confused and maybe a little nervous; did he forget a date or something?

“Oh, yeah!” you exclaim, a string of ‘pings’ sounding your request at a video call. 

Lately, calls with you end up this way. For the longest time, Bakugo’s been a text-mostly-and-call-but-no-video-only kind of guy; it’s quick and efficient, gets things done with minimal fuss. But since getting together with you, texting’s begun to feel a little bit insufficient without your voice accompanying it. Regular calls suffice, but you know how harsh his words can sound despite his face saying otherwise. 

Your relationship is kind of old but still kind of new—a few months before you celebrate one year, and he still rolls his eyes (at himself) whenever you do this, lips quirked up as he clicks ‘accept’ (as if he can’t believe how you’ve single-handedly changed his phone habits just like that). 

You wait for him to adjust his phone, portions of his office in blur before he props it against the All Might paperweight on his desk. You continue, “Do you like it?”

He shoves the bouquet into the frame, smothering the microphone until all you hear is muffled noise. 

“Sorry, baby, I think you’re covering the mic.”

He tuts and you laugh as his face comes into view a few seconds later. His eyebrows are bunched together in the way they characteristically are and you see remnants of his black eyeliner smudged across his eyelids. Even at the tail end of his day, tired and just a little bit grumpy, Bakugo still looks pretty illuminated by the light on his phone.

It’s unfair, you think.  

“S’nice.” he murmurs, fiddling with the petals, “Thank you.” 

You catch his gaze and smile, “You’re welcome.” 

There’s an uneasiness to Bakugo’s eyes that you can tell comes from uncertainty, and you give him the silence to sort through it before he lets you know eventually, just like he always does. 

“I–”, he looks to the side, away from the camera. The crease between his eyebrows grow deeper before clearing his throat, “–M’not forgetting anythin’ today, am I?”

You tilt your head, puzzled, “I don’t think so, unless I’m forgetting it too.” 

“So why’d–”, he looks back to the bouquet, sighing, “–why’dya give me flowers?” 

Bakugo prides himself on his good memory; he knows your favorite food, and your usual order from that café you both go to down the street. He remembers that one sunday, during a hike, when you told him in passing that it was the best day of your life. You don’t like fuzzy socks because they make you sneeze, and you’re allergic to dust but continue to tend to him even when he’s covered entirely in it. 

Bakugo knows all these things and makes it a point to because a relationship–this relationship with you–is new and kind of hard, and this is one way he knows he can be good to you.

“Oh,” you blink, before answering so casually, so honestly, “I just wanted to.” 

Ruby eyes stare back at you, a mixture of emotions you can’t decipher swirling in them. His fingers slip through the leaves of the bouquet once more before his gaze softens.

“Ha.” he huffs out, almost chuckling to himself in relief. 

“Yeah, ‘ha’,” you tease, laughing, “they’re just for being you, Katsuki.” 

The look you send him is fond, but the feeling it gives him is anything but. Every time you laugh, and smile, and speak to him as if he is every bit deserving of the love you give, there is a battle raging in his ribcage. He doesn’t know when it’s ever going to stop feeling that way–if it ever will. The sides of his neck begin to flush red, and you giggle, finding it every bit endearing. 

He clears his throat again, trying hard to hide how flustered he feels, “D’you make it?” 

You nod, “Been trying flower arranging lately.” 

“S’pretty.” he supplies, turning the bouquet around to show you. You grow shy, Bakugo knowing full well how terrible you are at taking compliments. 

“You should get going, it’s getting late.” you mumble, snuggling into your blanket, the one he’d left in your apartment months ago. 

Bakugo grunts in agreement, “Tomorrow, 7am?” 

You hum, “Message me when you get home,” reminding him, even though this is routine by now. 

The next day, just like every other Tuesday, Bakugo will pick you up at 7am for a trip to that café you go to down the street. And maybe, on another day, you’ll get him flowers again, just for being your Katsuki. 

[recklesssturniolo]

Talk to Me - M.S

dom!Matt (ish), phone sex & reader and him are dating

A/N: idk how I feel ab this one praying y’all like it, also it’s short??? So also sorry ab that 😅

NSFW below, leave if you’re a minor

Cleaning my room, I’m caught off guard as my phone rings. Looking down, I smile seeing it’s Matt.

“Hey babe” I say.

“You got an explanation for the photo you sent?” He asks, referring to the nude I’d sent him a few minutes ago.

“What photo?” I reply.

“Don’t play dumb, you know what photo I’m talking about. Unfair you can send that when I’m not there to have you begging for me” He says, that sentence paired with the fact him being in LA was quite literally why he wasn’t able to be here but causing a heat to form between my legs.

“I mean you could’ve at least sent one back” I signed, laying down on my bed. The shirt I had on rising up and revealing the panties I had on - the exact ones that drove Matt crazy. My mind wandering off to how good he felt inside of me.

“Hello? Are you listening” Matt asked.

“Oh I - yeah sorry” I mumble back, trying desperately to ignore the wetness forming.

“What were you doing? Or more importantly what were you thinking of?” Matt asks, even without seeing him I knew there was a smirk on his face.

“Nothing really I just spaced off” I reply my hand subconsciously tracing the hem of my thong.

“You sure it wasn’t how good I make you feel when I’m fucking you? Maybe how my tongue feels on your pussy?” He replies.

My breath hitches in my throat knowing somehow he’d figured out his small comment from earlier turned me on, “Maybe” I sigh.

“Touch yourself baby” He groans, my eyes widening noticing his change in tone realizing he was jerking off.

“Matt, are you-“ I begin.

“Yeah I’m jerking off, you think I can see that photo you sent and not? Come on touch yourself, I know you’re wet at the thought of me” He responds.

Knowing he was right, I slide my panties down. My hands making their way back to my pussy, a slight moan leaving my mouth as I began rubbing my clit, “Fuck”

“There you go, feels good doesn’t it hm?” Matt asks.

“Yes but nothing compared to you” I respond.

“Yeah? You rather my fingers touching your pussy? My fingers pumping in and out of you until you’re clenching around them?” He groans out.

“Fuck Matt, I need you so badly” I whine, memories flooding my mind with each sentence that left his mouth. His stubble against my thighs while he sucked on my clit, how his fingers felt inside of me curled slightly, any memory I had of him touching me.

“Soon pretty girl, once I’m back I’ll fuck you so good you won’t be able to walk the next day. You have no idea how much I miss how you taste and how fucking tight you are” He groans out, his voice becoming raspy.

Unable to form a response, my mind still continuing to imagine everything he said, a whimper falls from my mouth as my back arches slightly.

“Sound so good moaning for me, fuck I can only imagine how hot you look touching yourself. Tell me what you’re thinking about baby” He says.

“I - just the one time in the car, when you ended up pinning me against the side and fuck how you finger fucked me until I came and fuck Matt-“ I began, my head tilting backwards slightly as I felt my high coming.

“And then what baby, keep going for me” He groans out, his breathing becoming faster.

“And then you fucked me against it and held my wrists together as you slammed into me. Matt I’m gonna come” I whine out, replaying the memory causing the knot in my stomach to grow.

“Good fuck so I am, let me hear you don’t be quiet” He replies, coming out more as a demand.

Without responding, whimpers and moans fall from myself, my eyes clenching shut as I came. Matt groaning and cursing on the other line, my orgasm only becoming better as I imagined him jerking off and coming on himself, his head tilted back and his hips buckling.

“Fuck you don’t know what you do to me” He speaks as both of us catch our breath, “That feel good?”

“Yes but -“ I began.

“I know I know it isn’t the same, trust me baby I know” He replies, his voice soothing now.

“If you don’t come straight to my house after your plane lands I swear to god Matt” I tell him.

“Trust me I’ll be speeding over, I already told Chris and Nick to figure out a ride back. Not waiting another second to be with you” He laughs.

“That was so hot Jesus fuck why haven’t we had phone sex before?” I question.

“I’ve jerked off while you spoke to me on the phone multiples times” He casually says.

“What? Just to my voice?” I asked, now intrigued at him admitting that.

“Mhm, I told you, you don’t know what you do to me”

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[russo-woso]

No, you don’t get to do this | Leah Williamson

Summary Leah drunken mistakes lead to the worst consequences

It had started out as a normal day.

You had woken up with the strong arms of your girlfriend, Leah, wrapped around you.

Knowing she had a long day full of training, you slipped out of her embrace and made your way downstairs to make her breakfast.

The connection you both had was so strong, that as soon as you had finished making it, she walked down the stairs.

You had both met when you were 16, and Leah 17. She had walked into you whilst walking round the local park, and to make it up to you, she offered to buy you a drink at the cafe near by.

You went on several dates after that, before finally, you shared a kiss and Leah asked you to be her girlfriend.

Since then, you've only expanded your love day by day and the love you felt seemed that it would never die out.

That was only how it felt for you though.

Whilst Leah was at training, you had gone out shopping, buying all the essentials you'd need for the next week.

Once you arrived back home, you made yourself some lunch before sitting down and grabbing your phone, for the first time that day.

You caught up on everything there was to see before finally clicking on Instagram.

There was one specific notification on instagram that caught your attention.

You and Leah liked to keep your relationship private, you always had.

But people liked to investigate you, and your relationship with Leah. I mean, of course they would, you were in a relationship with England's captain.

Because of this, the fans knew you just as much as they did Leah.

So, when you were tagged in videos, you thought nothing of them.

Sometimes you clicked on them because you thought why not. Sometimes you didn't.

But as soon as you clicked on the latest notification, your heart shattered.

In front of your eyes, lay a picture of Leah, your Leah, kissing another girl.

It had been taken from last Friday. Leah went out with a close friend of hers, Alex Scott, and decided to wear a new suit she had bought, the exact suit she was wearing in the picture.

Almost immediately after realising what the picture was telling you, tears started to run down your face.

Leah had kissed a girl, a girl that wasn't you.

You put your lunch down on the table, there was no way you could eat now, your appetite had gone.

You felt disgusted. Disgusted by Leah's actions.

You ran up the stairs before collapsing onto the bed.

You buried your head in the pillow, soaking it with your tears.

Your eyelids started falling and with the exhaustion from crying, they finally gave way and you fell into a deep sleep.

You only awoke again once you heard the sound of keys.

"Baby, I'm home." Leah's voice filled the house.

The memories of the picture flooded your head and once again, tears escaped your eyes.

"Baby? Where are you?" Leah asked, confusion clear in her voice.

The sound of footsteps became louder before finally, the door to your shared bedroom opened.

"Oh, my love, why are you crying? Come here." Leah stepped closer, ushering you into a hug.

"No."

"What? What's wrong? You can tell me anything, baby. I'm here." Leah once again tried to hug you, but this time you pushed her away.

"No, you don't get to do this. You don't get to come in here, into our house, Leah, and act like nothings wrong." You tried to shout at her, but your voice was hoarse from the crying and exhaustion.

"What are you talking about?"

"How could you, Leah? I thought you were mine and I was yours. Clearly not anymore. I can't believe you." Your voice broke as tears continued to stream down your face.

"Listen, my love, I'm so sorry. I was so drunk and so was she. It was a regret as soon as I pulled away. You've got to believe me, Y/N. I love you, only you." Leah said, coming to realisation about what you were on about.

"Get out." You managed to say, full of pain.

You never imagined yourself and Leah in this situation.

And here you were, watching Leah pack a bag with her essentials in.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I love you so much, I'll only ever love you. I was so fucking stupid." Leah apologised again, and you shook your head in response, you couldn't deal with any more of this, not tonight anyway.

It had started as a normal day, waking with Leah beside you, and now you were falling asleep, feeling cold and empty, with no Leah in bed.

The following day, you stayed in bed.

You physically couldn't move. The only thing that clouded your mind was the picture of Leah and that woman.

You had never experienced a break up before.

Leah was your first everything.

Your first relationship, your first kiss, your first time.

Which is why this break up was even harder for you. It had always been you and Leah, and now it wasn't.

You were cuddled up in the duvet, but yet, you still felt cold.

And you only felt colder when you finally left the bed because the doorbell had gone off.

You left your bedroom, and the sound of silence filled your ears.

You reached the door and opened it to find a big bouquet of flowers.

You picked them up, walking back inside and put them on the kitchen counter.

Buried inside them was a single note.

I'm so sorry, baby.

- your L

You burst into tears. You didn't know what to do.

On one hand, you never wanted to speak to Leah again. But on the other, you just wanted your Leah back.

Your want for Leah back expanded again when you were laying in bed that night.

You couldn't fall asleep. Your bed was empty without Leah beside you.

Over the next few days, Leah had messaged to say sorry, and at 2 o'clock everyday, the doorbell went off.

Every time you opened the door, you were met with a small gift.

On the first day, it was flowers, the second day, it was chocolate, today, it was a hot chocolate.

To anyone else, a cup of hot chocolate would have been a random things to give to someone when trying to say sorry.

But to you, it was a thoughtful gift that happened to be an inside joke for you and Leah.

On your first date with Leah, when she took you to the local cafe, you had asked for a hot chocolate, in a take away cup.

You hated the taste of coffee but wanted to look sophisticated and so asked for a hot chocolate in a to go cup so you could make out that it was coffee.

When Leah found out, she fell into a laughing fit and has never forgotten since.

Once you bought the hot chocolate inside, you chuckled to yourself, before tears welled in your eyes.

Later on that night, you settled yourself on the sofa and put on a movie that you hadn't watched in a while.

Midway through, the doorbell went again.

You hesitantly got up, not knowing who it was and the fact that it was 9:30.

You opened it cautiously to be met with Leah's face.

"Can we talk?" She asked and you nodded.

"I don't know if you've gotten the message or not, but I am so sorry. I regret kissing that woman, I regret going out that night, I regret everything about that night. I drank so much that night and something came over me, but I love you Y/N/N. Only you. I will do whatever it takes to get you back. I just — I can't lose you. And I know I probably already have, but I'll try my hardest. I can't fall asleep at night because you're not there. I can't close my eyes because all I see is you, and it kills me knowing that I can't be with you. It's always been Leah and Y/N. I can't be just Leah." Leah explains, her voice breaking towards the end.

"Le, I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. It's unfair that I just came here. I'm sorry." Leah turned around quickly, walking towards the door.

"Leah, wait." You call out. She turns around again, hope in her eyes. "You promise you won't do anything like that again?"

"I promise. God, I was so stupid. I won't do anything like that again. You're the only one I want to kiss." Leah says, tears falling from her eyes.

"Good, because you're the only one I want to kiss too." You say and rest both your hands on her face, your thumbs wiping her tears away.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so so sorry." Leah sobs and rests her forehead on yours.

"Ssh, I know you are. I know." You coo and press a light kiss to her head.

"Can I kiss you?" Leah asks and without answering, you plant your lips on hers.

It was a slow kiss, but a kiss where all of the love you felt for one another was poured into it.

As the kiss came to an end, you felt Leah smile against your lips, before burying her head in your neck.

"Thank you so much for giving me another chance." Leah mumbled into your neck

"You've still got a lot of making up to do, missy."

"I know, and I will."

"I know you will." You smile and reconnected your lips.

[weirdkpopgirl]

Friends Who Kiss | Chenle Fic #1

Title: Friends Who Kiss

Genre: Best friends to lovers, high school/college au

Warnings: mentions of the reader being insecure and having a mental breakdown at some point. a little suggestive, but not really

Word Count: ~ 5.6k

Author's Note: Okay to be very honest, I think that this story is kinda stupid and cliché. But it was an idea that I still wanted to try writing. And this is my first full-length fic for Chenle too, so I'm happy to post something for him. So to those who like cheesy romance stories, I hope you enjoy this. Thank you for reading ^ ^

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

Since the start of high school, Zhong Chenle has been a consistent part of your life. He arrived as a transfer student from Shanghai, while you were the reserved kid who often used studying as an excuse to avoid social interaction. So rather than you reaching out to him first, it was he who practically claimed you as his best friend. Your personalities were a striking contrast, but it proved to be the perfect balance. It didn't take long for the two of you to become inseparable.

However, your friendship took a turn in eleventh grade. You guys had gone to your house after school to do homework. Except it was mostly you working on assignments, while Chenle was animatedly ranting about some mobile game Jisung was terrible at playing.

“It’s unbelievable! Every time I check his character gets killed,” Chenle laughed, and you responded with a soft hum of acknowledgment.

The boy glanced up from his phone to find you engrossed in your textbooks. While your attention was focused on writing an essay, you were also trying to keep your mind from drifting to the unsettling conversation you had during lunch that day. Typically, you and Chenle sat together with his friends. But Jisung needed the boy’s help stalking his crush, so you found yourself sitting with some of the girls in your class. 

Sensing the inner conflict brewing in your mind, Chenle rose from the bed and leaned over your shoulder. 

“You've been at this since we got here. How is your brain not fried?” he asked, blunt as usual.

You shot the boy with an unappreciative glare. “It is fried. But our essay is due on Monday, and I still have to help you with yours.”

Chenle sighed, well aware of your enduring determination. Ever since he met you, he couldn’t understand why you stressed so much over assignments, especially when you always completed them before the due date. Then you somehow managed to go out of your way to ensure he was doing the same.

“You’re more than halfway finished, and I’ll get to mine on my own time,” He reassured, “Why don’t you take a break for now?”

Before you could protest, Chenle swiftly pulled you out of your chair and guided you to sit on the bed with him. Worry clouded his gaze. “Something’s troubling you, isn’t it?”

Your teeth sank into your lower lip, hating how Chenle knew you so well. He didn’t have a problem sharing what was on his mind, while you were the exact opposite. Yet, even a single look at you was enough for him to detect something was off.

“The girls at lunch were going on about their dating experiences and stuff,” you began to explain, your tone tinged with irritation at the memory. “They were all so surprised when I said I haven’t had my first kiss yet.”

You pushed yourself to meet Chenle's gaze, half dreading that he might burst into laughter. Instead, his expression held a hint of amusement, and that alone made you regret bringing up the topic.

Before he could respond, you hurriedly attempted to backtrack on your words. “It's stupid, I know—”

“It’s not stupid if it’s making you upset,” Chenle said firmly.

Leaning back in your seat, you let out an exasperated sigh. “I just can’t get their judgmental looks out of my head. All because I don’t have much experience with dating?”

Chenle's expression softened as he confessed, "There's nothing wrong with that, and there’s a lot of people like you. I haven't had my first kiss either."

“Really?!” You stared at him in disbelief. “Didn't you date Ko Mi-so though?”

Chenle scoffed, appearing slightly offended. “Okay, that happened such a long time ago. And we didn't even last a month, so we never kissed.”

Now that you thought about it, he was right about their relationship ending almost as quickly as it began. You recalled the time back in tenth grade when Chenle was quite smug about dating Mi-so, who happened to be the prettiest girl in class. Frankly, you were somewhat relieved when they broke up, given that she didn't particularly like you. Chenle hasn’t dated anyone since.

“Oh, I guess that makes sense,” your voice trailed off. 

The boy stayed silent for a moment before an idea dawned on him. “You know what? Why don’t we have our first kiss now?”

Your cheeks felt like they were competing for a world record in how quickly they heated up at Chenle's proposal. He couldn't possibly be serious.

“Did I hear you right?” you stammered, thoroughly taken aback by the suggestion.

Chenle nodded confidently, “I mean, we're best friends, so it's not that weird. And it's better than kissing someone we don't know as well or not have a connection with.”

You could kind of see his point. Having Chenle as your first kiss did seem much safer than kissing some random guy. Besides, it wasn’t like either of you had any underlying feelings for each other. This would solely be for practice.

“Alright,” you reluctantly agreed, “But you have to promise not to make fun of me if I turn out to be a bad kisser."

Chenle chuckled and nodded. He inched closer to you on the bed, leaving little space between the two of you. Although he saw you every day, having your face this near made a faint blush tinge his cheeks.

He started to lean in more before pausing. "Um, maybe you should close your eyes."

"Oh—right," you mumbled awkwardly, then took a deep breath before allowing your eyelids to shut.

He had to suppress a chuckle, finding you kinda cute in that moment. Before you had a chance to second-guess yourself, Chenle pressed his lips against yours in a tender kiss. Shortly after, he drew back, searching for your reaction.

“So, how was that?” He asked, voice laced with teasing.

You stared at him incredulously for a moment before realizing he was waiting for you to answer. “I suppose it was okay,” you mumbled.

Chenle tilted his head with an amused grin. “Just okay?”

“Yeah, I guess I didn't feel much because we're not really into each other like that,” you admitted with a nonchalant shrug.

Okay, you might have partially lied about not feeling much during the kiss. Truth be told, there was this strange, fluttery sensation in your chest when your best friend's lips grazed yours. But perhaps all first kisses were like that, and you were simply overthinking it.

The boy beside you let out a hearty laugh. “Well at least we got that over with.”

You had to muster all your self-control not to blush when he followed up with, “And you're not a bad kisser, by the way.”

Believing that the experiment was over, the two of you returned to your previous tasks. Nothing changed much after that day in your bedroom, as you and Chenle remained best friends. But little did you realize that this wouldn't be the last kiss you'd be sharing with him. 

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Despite your previous attempts to justify it, the second kiss you shared with Chenle happened partially because of you. As your senior year of high school unfolded, Chenle prepared for his performance at the spring festival. It was you who initially urged him to participate in the talent show. The countless times you had witnessed his piano playing and singing during your private moments together convinced you that he should share his talents with the world. Your compliments not only fueled Chenle’s ego but also prompted him to eagerly jot his name down on the sign-up sheet.

However, what you didn’t expect was to find him backstage, looking as pale as a ghost. He was supposed to go after a group of girls who were dancing to Red Velvet’s “Red Flavor.” With the intention of cheering him on in person, you spotted the dark-haired boy sitting on a chair, anxiously bouncing his legs.

“Last-minute jitters?" you asked softly.

Chenle glanced up at you and crossed his arms in a nonchalant manner. “What, me? I'm fine,” he replied, though his tone lacked conviction.

Just as Chenle knew you like the back of his hand, you were among the few who could read him. While he was partially correct about never being nervous, it didn't take an idiot to perceive that he was in that moment. It was evident he was trying to play it off to uphold his confident image. 

One aspect that troubled you about Chenle was his constant facade of cheerfulness and carefree demeanor. No one could genuinely be happy all the time, and he was the kind of person who concealed his negative feelings when around others.

After deliberating on how to address the situation, you gently rested your hand on his shoulder, bringing yourself to eye level with him.

“Hey, you’re going to be amazing out there,” you reassured him. “I’ve seen how many hours you put into practicing that song. You have nothing to worry about.”

Chenle let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, you're right.”

The smile he bestowed upon you didn't quite convince you. Biting your lip in hesitation, you glanced around to ensure no one else was nearby. Once you were sure that you were alone, you leaned down and gently planted a kiss on the boy’s forehead. Chenle’s eyes widened in surprise at your actions.

“What was that for?”

Blushing, you took a step back and stammered, “Just for good luck, you know. I—I’ll be right there in the crowd, watching you. So if you feel nervous on stage, just look at me.”

A more reassured smile spread across Chenle’s lips and before he stood up to swiftly peck you on the lips, leaving you more stunned than he was a few seconds ago.

“There, I definitely feel more ready now,” he declared with a teasing glint. And the smug Chenle you were familiar with had returned.

As Chenle’s playfulness lingered in the air, the sound of the audience clapping erupted for the girls, putting an end to your “moment.” With a knowing look, you both parted ways, allowing Chenle to step into the spotlight for his performance.

As he took the stage, you found a spot in the crowd, eyes fixed on him with awe. The rhythm of the applause filled the air, drowning out any lingering thoughts. In that moment, the stage became his world, and you couldn't help but be swept away by the magic of his talent. The earlier exchange faded into the background as you watched Chenle shine, each note and melody weaving a captivating spell that left you in admiration.

Neither of you mentioned the kiss after that day. The interaction remained more platonic than anything, a gesture that was only meant to show your support for him. But Chenle still liked to think he killed the stage because of it.

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Chenle was undeniably responsible for the next time the two of you kissed. However, this particular incident didn't unfold until the first semester of your freshman year in college. The joy of discovering you both had been accepted into the same university was palpable, though Chenle appeared to be more exuberant about the news. In contrast, you felt a sense of relief, grateful that you wouldn't be venturing into the world of college alone.

In one of your classes, a sunbae began to show interest in you. Despite your attempts to politely reject him, it became apparent that he wasn't willing to accept no for an answer. 

One day after class, he cornered you in the hallway, insisting that you go out with him. As you tried to maintain your composure, he grabbed you by the wrist when you tried to walk away. The harsh move triggered internal panic within you.

You could sense the danger in his tone as his head tilted cockily. “Come on, (Y/n), don’t be so difficult. I know you’re just playing hard to get.”

“I—I’m sorry but I just don’t feel the same as you, Sunbae,” you stuttered, trying to be assertive. “Please let go.”

Refusing to relent, the sunbae was on the verge of pulling you in closer when another hand intervened, forcefully ripping you out of his grasp. Your head turned in astonishment to see Chenle casting a disgusted look at the guy in front of you. The flames in Chenle’s eyes made you realize that you had never seen him so livid before.

“She said to let go of her. What part of that do you not understand?” Chenle’s voice cut through the tension.

The sunbae scoffed and crossed his arms in defense, “Yah, who are you to involve yourself in someone else’s matters? Are you her boyfriend or something?”

You watched as the corner of Chenle’s lips turned into a smirk as he snaked an arm around your waist in a protective gesture. 

“That’s right. So who are you to go after another man’s girlfriend?” he retorted confidently. Your eyes widened, almost surprised as the jerk in front of you.

Shaking his head in a mix of disbelief and embarrassment, the sunbae pointed a finger at you. “This is a joke, right? You just asked him to pretend to be your boyfriend to mess with me!”

Before you could respond, Chenle took matters into his own hands. His free hand briskly moved to the back of your neck, drawing you in for a passionate kiss. In a typical situation, your best friend's impulsive actions might have freaked you out immediately. However, the way his fingers delicately pressed against your back reassured you that he was doing this for your sake, Closing your eyes, you kissed back and tried to reciprocate with the same passion Chenle was pouring.

Moments later, Chenle pulled away and turned to the sunbae, wearing a satisfied grin on his face. “Do you believe her now? Not that she has to prove anything to you.”

The older male muttered begrudgingly under his breath, “Whatever, not worth my time.”

With a scowl, he stormed off, leaving behind a palpable sense of relief in the wake of his departure. Once he was gone, you removed yourself from Chenle's hold and shot him a look of confusion.

“You know you didn’t have to do that right?” 

Chenle chuckled, “Well, someone had to put an end to his nonsense. Besides, I've always wanted to play the protective boyfriend card.”

“Protective boyfriend? You almost gave me a heart attack!” You smacked him on the shoulder.

Chenle’s smirk remained, but he adopted a more concerned tone. “But seriously, (Y/n), why didn’t you tell me he was bothering you earlier?”

“I thought I could handle things on my own.” You shrugged weakly, lowering your head in guilt.

Chenle sighed, recognizing your aversion to depending on others for your problems. Throughout the time he’d known you, he'd witnessed your willingness to go to great lengths to help those you cared about. However, when it came to your own struggles, you seemed to prefer suffering in silence.

“We’re best friends for a reason,” he reminded you, “Looking after each other is 50/50, you know?”

You offered him a small smile, “I guess you’re right. Thanks for saving me today.”

“Well, you can thank me by buying food tonight,” Chenle said, the playful glint returning to his eyes. “It’s your turn anyway.”

Rolling your eyes, you let him lead you out of the building. But Chenle’s words from earlier lingered in the back of your mind. “We’re best friends for a reason.” 

The two of you were the epitome of what best friends were. And that was all the two of you would ever be, right?

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At this point, you were beginning to lose count of the number of times you’ve kissed your best friend. Despite this, your friendship maintained its familiar rhythm throughout the university. But after that hallway encounter, the awkwardness that came with kissing your best friend faded. Although it was more of Chenle seeming unfazed, and you becoming less surprised each time it happened. And indeed, there were a few more instances that caused your lips to meet.

Like the time Chenle excitedly dragged you to his dorm to watch a Golden State Warriors game, and, in the heat of the moment, he gave you a quick kiss before cheering some more. Then there was the other time when you both went out for drinks with friends, a few drunken kisses were shared.

There weren't any real feelings attached to the kisses you and Chenle shared. At least, that was what you repeatedly told yourself. However, as you were halfway through your first year of university, you finally started to question the true nature of your friendship with Zhong Chenle.

Those thoughts began to sink in just before your first finals in college. Isolated in your dorm room, you immersed yourself in studying for a math exam scheduled in three days. Calls and texts from friends went largely ignored as you turned off your phone in an attempt to focus. However, Chenle wasn't about to let that slide. 

One night, he let himself into your dorm, carrying a bag of your favorite takeout—knowing well that you tended to skip meals when stressed. You could see the determination in his face, ready to scold you. But the expression quickly transitioned to one of concern when he caught you on the verge of a breakdown. 

You sat at your desk surrounded by textbooks and notebooks filled with scribbled equations. The sight of your trembling body and slightly tousled hair, a result of pulling on it too hard, tugged at Chenle’s heart. He was well aware of how your anxiety affected you at times. But he had never witnessed it manifest quite like this.

Instantly, the bag was placed on the floor, and he was at your side. “(Y/n), what's wrong?" 

“I—I'm going to fail my calc final,” you swallowed, your fingers curling into fists. Your shoulders slumped, and the weight of despair was evident in the way you hunched over the desk.

He placed a hand on your shoulder, attempting to calm you down. “You still have a few weeks before finals, (Y/n). And you’re not going to fail.”

“Yes, I am!” you cut him off, your voice strained. Tears welled up in your eyes, and your hands clenched even tighter. “I’ve been studying for days, and my dumb brain still doesn't understand anything. Do you know how stupid I feel?”

“Being bad at math doesn’t make you stupid, (Y/n),” Chenle said, trying to inject a bit of lightheartedness into the situation. However, his comment didn’t seem to offer you any comfort.

You shook your head miserably in response. “Stop trying to be nice. I'm going to fail, and then I’ll end up letting down my parents and everyone else.”

Chenle’s heart ached at the defeat in your voice. Setting his jokes aside, he recognized that words weren’t what you needed at the moment. Instead, he enveloped you in a warm embrace. You hesitated only briefly before surrendering to his comforting hold, attempting to fight back tears.

“Just let it out,” he whispered.

Those simple words acted as an emotional release trigger, and Chenle found himself gently rubbing your back as you quietly cried into his shoulder. A sense of mixed emotions flooded him as he held you in that moment. A part of him felt a twinge of relief, grateful that you let him be there for you. You often kept your emotions bottled up, making it a challenge for him to discern how you truly felt at times. 

However, there was a pang of sadness accompanying that satisfaction. He knew you didn't just cry in front of anyone, and realizing that you had reached this breaking point signaled the depth of your struggle.

After a while, Chenle gently pulled back, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You need a break, (Y/n). Let’s step away from the desk for a bit.”

"No, I really should—" you began to protest, but Chenle cut you off.

"You really should eat the food I brought you before it gets cold," he insisted, picking up the bag again.

He led you to sit on the carpet of your cramped dorm room, creating a makeshift dining space for the two of you. As you both shared a meal, Chenle continued to provide a comforting presence, occasionally cracking a joke to lighten the atmosphere.

As the night wore on, the exhaustion in your eyes became more prominent. Even so, you knew you should go back to studying. But Chenle seemed to disagree.

“Maybe you should just rest for the night. I promise to help you with math in the morning,” he suggested. However, upon seeing the unconvinced look you gave him, he backtracked on his words. “Okay, I'll have Renjun help you.”

Too tired to argue, you gave in, and that's how you found yourself lying in bed with your best friend. Back in high school, you used to have sleepovers at his house on the weekends. At night, the two of you would be lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and talking about anything. However, having him beside you at that moment felt strange. 

You saw a sincere tenderness reflected in those large eyes of his. A part of you wondered if Chenle often gazed at you with such fondness and you simply hadn’t noticed before. Either way, the way he was looking at you made you feel even stranger. And the short silence that had settled between the two of you wasn’t helping.

Uncertain of how much longer you could endure the intensity, you broke eye contact with him and murmured, “Thank you for always being there for me, even when I try to push you away”

Chenle chuckled, adjusting his position to prop himself up on his elbow. “Well, of course, because how could you live without me?”

His ability to joke at a time like this struck you as unfathomable. Instead of the usual eye roll or pushing off the bed, a serious expression remained etched on your face. 

“You're right, I don't think I can live without you,” you said, your voice laced with drowsiness. “Because you’re one of the few people who truly care about me.”

The amusement in his eyes danced away, as he felt the gravity of your words. Something about seeing this vulnerable side of you was so beautiful in his eyes. Before he could fully process his own thoughts, Chenle found himself leaning in to close the space between you with his lips meeting your own.

Uncertain whether it was the leftover stress from your meltdown or the sleep deprivation that prompted you to kiss back without much thought. You could recall all the times you’ve kissed Chenle throughout the years. But this one would always stand out to you.

This kiss lasted a lot longer than your previous ones. But it wasn’t just the way he tilted your chin upward for a better angle, or the feeling of his dark locks of hair slipping between your fingers. Nor was it the soft pressure of his lips moving in sync with yours. It was the indescribable emotions that made time seem to stand still, weaving an unspoken connection that surpassed words and left you yearning for more.

Aside from pulling away, both of you gasping for breath, and noticing how Chenle's lips were redder than you had ever seen them, you vaguely recalled what happened after the kiss. When you woke up the next morning, Chenle was already gone. However, he had left you a text message, mentioning that he went to check if Renjun could help tutor you in math.

But math was no longer the sole stressor in your mind. Your best friend had kissed you last night, and unlike all the other times, this one left you feeling more confused than ever. 

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

True to his word, Renjun offered to meet up with you that Sunday afternoon at the campus library. Within an hour of sitting down to unravel the calculus concept that eluded you, Renjun finally helped you grasp the material. Although the looming fear of failing finals had diminished, you still felt a weight on your shoulders.

“You don’t seem as relieved as I thought you’d be,” Renjun remarked lightheartedly. Even he could tell your mind was preoccupied with something else.

You smiled sheepishly, “No, I am! I seriously owe you for helping me out. I just…”

“Is it something to do with Chenle?” he asked, almost like he was a mind reader.

His unexpected question caught you off guard. “How did you know?” you stammered, feeling the heat quickly rise to your cheeks.

A knowing smile played on the boy’s lips as he leaned back in his seat. “Oh come on, (Y/n). You have that look on your face that something happened between the two of you.”

Sometimes you seriously wished Renjun wasn’t so good at reading people. Even though you weren’t as close to him as Chenle was, he’s known you long enough to notice things that others wouldn’t. For instance, when something was troubling you.

Biting your lip, you debated whether to be truthful with Renjun. Although you didn't typically share your problems with others, you recognized that confiding in someone at a time like this was necessary to maintain your sanity.

“Chenle kissed me last night,” you tossed the statement out in the air, hoping you wouldn’t regret it.

Renjun’s eyes widened at this revelation, “He did?!”

“Well you see, we’ve kissed before. But this time it felt different,” you clarified, baffling the boy across from you even more. Internally cringing, you were acutely aware of how bad this sounded.

Before he could question, you continued to elaborate. “Look, it's not as complicated as it sounds. It’s just ever since we agreed to be each other’s first kiss, Chenle and I just keep having these…accidental kisses. Whether it’s out of excitement or to get guys hitting on me to go away.”

Renjun listened quietly as you recounted all the other times you’ve kissed Chenle. When you circled back to the previous night, you felt more conflicted than ever.

“But the kiss last night left me feeling so confused,” you confessed, running a hand through your hair. “Initially, I thought he was just doing it out of comfort, but now I’m not so sure.”

“Well, have you considered the possibility that he has feelings for you?” Renjun inquired, crossing his arms. His suggestion sounded so simple, yet it felt like navigating uncharted territory in your mind.

You shook your head in denial. “N—No, I mean we’ve been best friends for five years. He can’t possibly see me that way.”

“Like that’s ever stopped friends from falling for each other,” Renjun cocked his head. “It doesn’t take a genius to know that he likes you, (Y/n).”

His point made you mentally curse. If you looked at your history with Chenle from an objective point of view, the two of you certainly didn’t act like normal best friends.

“And, it’s pretty obvious that you like him too,” Renjun added, twirling the pencil between his fingers.

His statement left you feeling exposed, as if you had been caught red-handed committing a crime. Laughing nervously, you shook your head, “Renjun, we’re just friends. I…I don’t see him that way.”

Renjun raised an eyebrow, “Friends who kiss? Did you really not feel anything in those moments?”

Your teeth sank further into your lower lip as Renjun’s question hit you. The reality of your feelings for Chenle lingered in the air, challenging the facade you had built to convince yourself otherwise. It was like trying to hold sand in your fists, slipping away no matter how tightly you clenched. The truth, however inconvenient, seemed to be unraveling before you.

“I…I did feel something,” you slowly admitted, “But I never said anything because I didn’t want our friendship to change. It just seemed easier to pretend those moments were nothing more than accidents.”

Renjun’s eyes softened with understanding. “Well maybe a little change is what you need in your friendship.”

Maybe Renjun was onto something, perhaps change was necessary. In the past, you had always held out on dating, using the excuse that you were waiting for the right person. Despite the fear of potential rejection, what if Chenle was the person you had been waiting for all along?

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Chenle’s living room bathed in the gentle glow of the TV screen, a familiar sight during your Friday movie nights since college began. It was supposed to be a time to unwind, to escape the pressures of school for a little while. However, instead of the usual peaceful and easygoing atmosphere, an unspoken tension hung in the air tonight. Beyond picking a movie and deciding who made the popcorn, you and Chenle barely talked. The weight of the unspoken words made the space feel suffocating, and you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in your chest.

Unable to endure the weighty silence any longer, you turned your head to make a lame comment about the movie. However, before you could speak, Chenle beat you to it.

“Can we talk?” His voice carried a hint of restlessness, an unusual departure from his usual tone.

Trying to maintain a casual demeanor, you lightly nodded. With your acknowledgment, Chenle exhaled deeply and sat up straighter to face you properly.

“I know how crazy this might sound,” he started, running a hand through his hair. “But I’ve been thinking, and I don’t think we can stay friends.”

His words felt like a gun being pointed at your chest, panic surged within you as you tried to process the boy’s words. Of all the ways you predicted this conversation could go, this was not one of them.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice even smaller than his.

Noticing the perplexity in your eyes, Chenle continued. “You see, I've been in love with you for—I don’t know how long. But I spent all these years burying my feelings like a fool, because I never thought you’d see me that way. Yet, every time we kiss, it becomes harder for me to ignore my feelings for you.”

Chenle glanced down at his folded hands, vulnerability seeping into those brown orbs of his. “The other night made me realize that I don’t want to just be friends who kiss anymore. I want to be something more to you.”

His words lingered in the air now that they were out in the open. Your heart raced faster than it ever has before, as your cheeks flushed with heat. Chenle’s eyes bore into yours, his expression nervous yet hopeful. 

For a moment, you were left speechless. But you still had the sense to hit him on the shoulder, scolding, “Oh my gosh, you can’t start a conversation like that, Chenle. You scared me!”

The boy chuckled sheepishly, rubbing his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that. But seriously, (Y/n), I meant what I said.”

A mix of emotions played on your face before you quietly admitted, “Honestly, I’ve wanted to be something more to you since that day we kissed in my bedroom.”

You noticed a smile of relief beginning to form on his lips, but you held up a finger before he could say anything. Now that he had taken the first step, you decided it was time for you to do the same.

“But I kept trying to convince myself that all the times we kissed were accidental or just for comfort,” you confessed, looking directly into his eyes. “And the reason I’ve been pushing away my feelings for you was because I was afraid of losing a friend who means the world to me.”

His hand rested on top of yours, the light touch sending a shiver down your spine. “You don’t have to be afraid because you’ll never lose me, (Y/n).”

The softness and sincerity in his eyes made you want to cry for some inexplicable reason. You once believed that confessing your feelings for Chenle would only lead to frustration and heartbreak. However, as you sat here with him, holding his hand, those worries seemed to vanish.

“So…what do we do now?” you asked, unsure of what was supposed to come next in these situations.

A mischievous glint danced in his eyes as he grinned. “I think this is the part where we kiss. But you know, as boyfriend and girlfriend.”

Just as you were processing his words, he moved closer, his breath warm against your skin, making your heart flutter. His eyes searched yours for permission. 

“Well, what are you waiting for then?” you whispered.

With that, the distance between you closed, and your lips met in a tender kiss. It was a sweet surrender, a culmination of years of friendship and suppressed feelings. Although this wasn’t your first kiss with Chenle, it felt that way in a sense. For you could finally savor the tender feeling of his lips without questioning the intention behind it.

In that moment, all you focused on was the way Chenle had his hand on the small of your back, guiding you closer as he deepened the kiss. Your fingers found their way to rest on the nape of his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin. 

Although the change in this dynamic had just begun, this newfound connection promised countless moments of shared laughter, whispered confessions, and the sweet warmth of shared kisses. You had a feeling that you could easily get used to this beautiful new normal. By the way Chenle smiled during the kiss, you could tell he felt the same way.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

[vestaclinicpod]

Audio Drama Sunday - 15th December ✨

I listened to so much audio drama this week and have so many thoughts!! 🫨

🌨️ @thewhitevault (15) First off all, PSA: someone has been leaving negative comments on Spotify instead of hitting pause and moving on with their life like a normal person would. I personally love the split focus between Goshawk and Cairo and really feel like we’re getting closer to finding out what is actually happening to the sites. Sure, it’s a different kind of tension, but if the show followed the same formula every season it wouldn’t be the best in the game, would it? If everyone could show some love to TWV this week, that would be good!!

🌲 @hellofromthehallowoods (177) damn, I’m sorry but I think Mx Wellman needs to teach action-writing because these scenes are so tense but also fluid and easy to follow! I guess we finally know who the quartet are? I think I had been hoping that it wasn’t going to be the people we knew a little as kids but . . . isn’t that just the way in life that people you knew as children grow up and join a corrupt system of oppression that allows them to perpetrate harm!! Shank remains such an interesting character, of course he’s going to go for the Sheriff’s dpt now, why not! And the actual pig memories made my heart hurt a little. 

🔎 @224bbaker (13) Had a relisten this week for the general release and, my god, there are too many banger lines in this ep to list them all but no context giggles include: “Push that down, James, it’s probably nothing.” & “balancing the egos of the hogs, you get it”. ALSO thank god for the transcript because tell me why I initially re-evaluated McMurphy as a character when I thought I was referring to his ex: “Joe Caster” 😭😂 Oops. I love Madge’s arc so far this season - so interesting to have a female lead who has some growing to do in the equality department. And a great gentle reminder for us all to stop appeasing the people holding us down xo 

🦋 @remnantspod (19) Another fantastic ep! That heart sinking feeling moments into meeting the teacher! Damn, that’s good writing!! Also, if we’re weighing in on whether someone should be judged on their own terms if they make those terms clear and exacting - I don’t think it is actually possible to judge someone without your own bias affecting your judgement. Now, the current almost-clean-slate of the Apprentice makes this interesting but immediately Sir asks him to compare Adelaide to Sid. Can one judge without comparison?? I don’t think so? Maybe the poor Apprentice was just relieved to have someone finally give some guidance on how to measure a soul. I also found it veryyyy interesting that the Apprentice chose to discard this remnant. It did come across a little bit churlish to me, as though he chose to do that to piss Sir off. But it did remind me of his reaction to Jonny in ep 2. Clearly murder is a touchy subject. . . 

🎙️WTNV (258 & 259) Listening to Night Vale is always such an easy little treat for me. Sounds like Steve is about to bite off a bit more than he can chew with a car company that’s literally called detour. 

🧋 @hinaypod (25&26) Ooough spooky dolls are spooky! My heart just about tied itself in knots hearing Donner and Mari reconnect and him realise she already had a Halloween Date. Then it froze hearing Mari sob 😭 she’s MY goodly witch and you need to stop making her cry!!! 

🗺 @tales-from-the-low-city (13) Absolutely gripping!! It might just be me, but I feel like this season is much darker in tone compared to last and this tale about a Fallen assassin fits right in. I adored the music, it added so much to the tension of the writing without being distracting. Loved it. 

🍾 @ameliapodcast (38) I love the fantastical eps as much as the plausible ones!! Truth serum, eh? I can’t wait to find out how this goes wrong 😂

🧳 Travelling Light @monstrousproductions (Q+A part 1) so lovely to hear Hero AND Matt answering the questions. The chat about working to deadlines and making peace with producing lots of work that is good but, most-importantly, finished is …. Really something to think about… I also definitely noticed when Óli disappeared from the polls 😂 it was fun to make the choices more mysterious!! 

Have a good week, everyone!!

[arabaka]

₊˚ʚ ☁️ ₊˚ ♡ ﾟ. content warnings ⤸ sfw. fluff + angst for the birthday boy! spoilers for chapter 236. 736 words. while i don't mind ageless/minors interacting with my sfw posts, do NOT follow if you do not have your age in bio.

₊˚ʚ ☁️ ₊˚ ♡ ﾟ. author's note ⤸ maxine voice from russian doll: sweet birthday baby!!! i had this sitting around in my drafts and honestly been going through it so... we love-self care. also peep the httyd quote B)

He’s already seen everyone else (Suguru, Nanami, Haibara, and Yaga) but there’s still some unfinished business for the strongest, the ill-fated, Gojo Satoru.

After all, it’s a long known fact that Gojo Satoru really died when you did.

“Well,” Gojo stands, dusting off his uniform pants, “Gotta go.”

“Leaving so soon?” Geto asks with a knowing smirk.

“Yeah. Got a date, ya’ know.”

Of course, you’d reunite at an airport terminal of all places. The staple location for every cheesy rom-com movie, where the twist is that both lovers are dead.

What can you say; spending even just a few years in limbo will round out the humor in you.

But it’s also perfect, in its own way. How many rom-coms did you watch with him that had this exact scene in them? How many times had you recreated those corny, predictable scenes anytime you had to travel with sincerity because between the two of you… One couldn’t really live without the other.

Maybe there really is something to this airport effect.

You’re both running so fast, desperate to leave all the time you spent apart in the past.

Gojo sweeps you off your feet, somehow staying grounded on his despite the boom of excitement between the two of you. Your giggles make him giggle and it’s like you were never apart.

When you kiss, he remembers what it felt like when he really had someone to keep living for. 

The memories don’t stop there: a dam of his own making cracks under the pressure before splitting apart entirely. It still hurt to reminisce on those times you shared, even after all those years it never got any better. But with you back in his arms, the experiences have been returned to their original glory. Their original joy.

He can see them all so clearly. 

The look of annoyed disgust you gave him when you met as first-years at Jujutsu High: he never did let you live down your initial distaste for him and you never let him forget why you gave him that look in the first place. But it sure as hell didn’t stop you two from sneaking off to make out when you should have been practicing.

The gleam in your eyes when he told you I love you for the first time: you had cried right after and had him thinking he did something wrong but you more than made up for it when you tackled him to the ground, sobbing “I love yous” right back. 

The warmth of your arms when he’d wake up screaming the nights following the first time he’d lost Suguru: he never could thank you enough for giving him such a perservering comfort.

He’s seeing it all: graduation, birthdays, holidays…

A flash of you and him in the bed you shared, in the apartment you two called home, and the night he proposed… How you said yes before he could even finish the sentence.

And that's where it ends because you'd be gone before the two of you could even announce your engagement.

Gojo never loved after you, didn’t even try to find someone else because no one could ever come close to you.

Now here you are, in his arms again… Where you belong. He kisses you over and over again with the fervor of a man starved, Gojo desperate to reacquaint himself with the way you taste and feel.

“I was beginning to think you forgot about me.” You tease, arms looped tenaciously around his neck; you aren’t letting go this time.

“Pft- You? Never, baby.” His lips skirt yours, “You don’t know how much I’ve missed this.”

Gojo makes you laugh. He always could.“I think I have an idea.” You chuckle, your eyes crinkling as you smile.

“Let me look at you.” You both say at the same time, falling in love with each other all over again. 

With an air of remorse and his pretty blues saturated with sadness, Gojo whispers, “You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.” His heart still aches like it's become a muscle memory. “I should’ve–”

“Hey.” Your hands firmly grasp his face, “Stop that.” You give him a good shake with that determined look in your eyes he's longed for all these years. “We're together again. I don't know for how long or what comes next but… For better or worse, right?” 

“For better or worse.” Gojo agrees and for the first time in a long time he smiles without guilt, thinking to himself:

“I’m hoping this isn’t a dream.”

[persephone11110]

Hot and Cold

J.S x Reader

Warnings:quiet reader/happy/confident, protective j.s, mention of past oc death, soft jake seresin, fake date->real dating at the end, bad date, medical inaccuracy, naval inaccuracy, ooc j.s a bit, curse words

Summary: two times jake seresin was secretly in love with y/n l/n and the one time he made sure you knew too.

ofc: Y/n“Mouse”L/n

AN: This is so random, this is me taking a break from Fallen Angel. I’ve read 5+1 b4 from different fandoms but make mine 2+1 bcus i don’t have the brain cells to do that. I don’t know if I like this ENJOY ❤️

—

1. the hard deck

“Kiss me baby”

“Ooh, that feels good”

You leaned against the bar alone sipping on your sparkling water quietly. As much as you loved Rooster’s singing— it was loud and made everyone around you in bar loud. You flinched at the shouts that echoed throughout the bar— you knew everyone was just having fun—something you didn’t quite understand yet.

“You hate Bradshaw’s voice too?” a southern drawl calls out to you. You look back to a man with set of gorgeous green eyes. Holy shit he’s fine.

“H..Hi Seresin” your voice suddenly stuttering—nervousness was rising at the sight of the man.

You instantly recognized the man Hangman, the man that leaves everyone in his dust cloud. He gently puts his hand on your back guiding you to a pair of seats outside.

After pulling out your chair Jake gently smiles at you—“Sorry about that Y/n I couldn’t hear over that chicken shit”. He full on smirking, back at home Jake has a little brother Riley who has the exact same tendencies as you. Shy and Quiet-pratically acts like a ghost.

“Jake” you shot him a disapproving look. “Be kind to Rooster”.

“Why should I Mouse?”, he glances at you, your not dumb you could feel and see the deep hatred the two men have for each other. He sips at his beer before putting it back down on the table.

You sighed,“Because whether you like it or not Rooster might be the one up there with you”. You say easily, you know what it feels like to lose someone up in the air. The feeling of someone’s death weighing on conscious day and night— the infamous What If’s.

He shrinks back—“Who, if you don’t mind me asking ya sweetheart?”. He reaches over and grabs your hand lightly—there’s no heat behind his words, his face is soft and gentle— you could see the real him and not his facade Hangman.

Icarus flew too close to the sun. a teardrop fell from your face.

Painful memories crashed your mind, the day Y/n died, having to listen to banshee like cries of his mother and wife combined. Watching his casket get carefully laid into the ground.

“Me and my wso were shot down in enemy territory”.— it’s classified can’t give to much away. “I know I don't why you and Rooster have differences but all i’m saying is that the last thing you both need is death weighing you down”.

“Thank you Y/n”, Jake cards his fingers over your knuckles.“But I need to get back to terrorizing everyone around me”.

Jake wishes he could stay longer, leaving you is the last thing he wants. But if he stayed longer Jake might confess his feelings for you. Cant have that before a big mission, can we?

“Bye Hangman”, you waved him away.

He stood up and gently dropped a kiss onto your head.

“Bye Mouse”

I think I’m in love with her.

—

2. record store

Leave it to loudmouth Phoenix to tell the daggers you had a date tonight. And if you remember correctly Jake had look like he taken a bite into a lemon, sour and confused of why you had a date. When you could be dating him.

“Come on Y/n, your going ditch takeout with me for a random date tonight?”, His eyes fan over to you, as you stood at his kitchen sink.

“Well excuse me Seresin some of us weren’t grace with beauty like others”, you snapped, throwing your lipstick in your purse hastily.

“Goodbye Jake”, you turned on your heel not daring to look back to see if Jake even cared enough to come after you.

You lonely walked the aisles of the record store alone, it was too good to be true, why would a man like Jordan waste him time on you. Maybe you weren’t destined for love—maybe your life would end with you being old cat lady who’s suffered from a broken heart decades early.

You found yourself standing infront of various records Ready to Die, At Last, Enter The Wutang—36 Chambers. All of your favorites album.

“Well at least I know music taste”, God damn it you recognized the arrogant accent from anywhere.

You counted to five before turning around to see Jake. “H-Hello”, you stutter out, Jake was in a three piece suit, with a bouquet of lily’s in his hand. Your favorite flowers, the suit you helped him pick out weeks ago.

“Hey there darlin”, he leans over you—dropping a kiss onto your hair. “I’m sorry for being a bastard”, Jake softly apologizes to you. Your taken back at the softness of his voice.

“How did you—”, you cut yourself off unsure if really wanted the answer.

“Easy, Bradshaw told me that jackass was at the hard deck with a girl hanging off his arm”. , Your shoulders deflated with sadness, you were right- no man is going to spend time with a woman like you. Tears trickled down your face—“Hey, Hey sweetheart whats with the tears?”. His voice more softer.

Your shoulders bounce with sadness at your face found it’s self into the crook of Jake’s neck. “I just wished someone loved me”, you mumbled, to him yet he could hear how much emotion filled your words.

“Come on sweetheart, what do you think i’m doing down here”, he pulls you from him—“You don’t need that jackass to have fun, you have me?”, he whispered into your ear.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah” he promised, “I booked us a reservation at Gio’s, and besides Bradshaw and Trace tossed Jordan on his ass after they caught him”. A bit of laughter came out your mouth as you smiled. “Two black eyes and a suit don’t mix well together”, he lightly poked at you.

“Fine Seresin”, you interlocked arms with him, “Lead the way”.

He could feel his heart throb with excitement.

“Alrighty Y/n you win”. you and Jake walked arm and arm to his car before he opens the car door for you, ushering you into his car. You flashed a smile at him.

I think I’m in love with her.

—

3. uss?(day of the mission)

“I came to see Lieutenant Jake Seresin”, your tone wavering with fear, logically you knew he was fine—you saw him and Bradley shake hands and smile at each other. But that didn’t mean anything to you, not after you lost Hunter in the air.

“Lieutenant L/n” the doctor tone drenched with stress, “Seresin is busy—”, she was cut off by a southern accent filled with arrogance.

“I’m very good. In fact, I am too good to be true.”, the doctor scoffs-sidestepping, granting you access to Jake.

The cocky son of bitch was laid out on the cot with a grin on his face. “Haven’t see you in a bit sweetheart”. He was laying there as if he hadn’t almost lost his life.

You must’ve allowed some type of emotion to cross your face because the next thing you knew a brusied Jake was pulling down with towards him. Your head tucked under his chin, as you both laid in silence.“Feeling that Y/n?”, he drawled out.

“Yeah I do”, your voice is gentle. “J..Jake I thought I lost you”, your voice wavered.

“I know sweetheart I thought I did too”, he sits up with you in his lap.“I had to save Pops and Rooster you know that right?”.

“Without a doubt”, you managed to run your fingers through his hair. “And you did amazing job of that too, whilst also scaring the shit outta of me”.

“I’m surprised Cyclone isn’t here yet, tearing me a new one”, Jake tells you—adding a kiss to your hand.

“He’s coming soon for a debrief, and the last thing he needs is two of his top lieutenants laid up in bed together Jake”. you tried moving from his embrace.

Jake easily held you back“Y/n I really don’t give a damn right now”.

“Jake”, you said.

“What sweetheart?”.

“Kiss me”, you playfully puckered your lips out.

“God damn darlin took you look enough”, his hand cupped the back of your head.

“I’m in love with her”

[munsonsmixtapes]

Teach Me

Steve x bi!fem!reader

word count: 6k

CW: mention of reader and Steve’s rough home lives

summary: you and Steve go on your “first date” and you both definitely don’t want it to be real

part one part three part four part five part six part seven part eight

Part Two: Lesson One

You stood in your closet, looking for something to wear on your date with Steve. Eddie had insisted on helping you which actually meant lying on your bed, reading one of your fashion magazines. He occasionally gave his input, barely even giving you a second glance, favoring the magazine over your outfit crisis.

You were nervous even though you didn’t want to admit it. Thinking about going on a date with Steve made you feel ill. Even though he had told you that it was low stakes, you still felt like there was a lot of riding on it. It was your first date and it had to be perfect.

“Do you think I’m a summer or an autumn?” Eddie asked as he flipped through the pages of the magazine. You turned around to face him, still in your underwear, putting your hands on your hips.

“Neither, you’re a winter,” you replied. “Now either you help me or go home.”

“Jesus, l/n, it’s just Harrington.” Eddie rose from the bed, throwing the magazine to the side. He went to stand in front of you, resting his hands on your shoulders. “You really need to relax.”

“We both know that I’m unable to do that.”

“Let’s take some deep breaths, alright?” He took a deep breath in and you mimicked him.

“Now let it out.” You breathed out slowly and Eddie smiled, satisfied with the results. You did feel a bit better, but not much.

“Okay,” he clapped his hands together then turned to your closet. “Let me see what we’ve got going on.” He went through the rack that your clothes were on, shaking his head at each item. He got close to the end and pulled out a dark blue dress that you had completely forgotten that you had. Leave it to Eddie to find the exact right outfit for you. He always seemed to have the magic touch.

“Where the fuck did that come from?” You gasped, taking the thing from him.

“I think Robin got it for you for your birthday or something.”

“That’s right,” you nodded at the memory, suddenly remembering pulling it out of the pink gift bag it had been in only to throw it in your closet, deciding that you had nowhere to wear it.

You threw the dress on and stepped back so Eddie could see you. He gave a nod of approval as you pulled the bottom down so it would cover more of your legs.

You had never done this before. You hadn’t hung out with anyone outside of a sexual encounter. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to, but more like no one had invited you to do so when you were a child. So when people actually expressed interest in you emotionally, you didn’t think it was genuine.

You weren’t popular as a kid. An outcast because your parents didn’t have much money. So while the other girls in your grade were over at Cindy Gardener’s house, you were home by yourself while your parents were at work. You had seen the invitations go out and were excited to actually go somewhere besides your home, only to find that you were the only girl in the class who hadn’t received an envelope.

They all thought you were too poor because you lived in the trailer park. They all laughed at you for bringing your lunch in a paper bag as opposed to the metal lunch boxes that displayed the cartoon characters of the shows you all watched.

They laughed at your cheap clothes and how unbrushed your hair was. Your parents were never around so you were forced to do your own hair and get yourself dressed in the only clothes they could afford.

Perhaps that was why you were so afraid to get close to people. Because you were always the butt of everyone’s joke so you thought that anyone trying to get close to you was just their way of making fun of you. Eddie was the only one you could trust since he had actually shown you how much he had cared for you.

“Damn,” Eddie let out a whistle as his eyes trailed down your body. “I hope Harrington knows how to fight.” You let out a laugh at that.

“Oh, shut up.” You smacked him on the shoulder and he just laughed.

“Seriously, sweetheart. You look fucking amazing.” It wasn’t unusual for Eddie to compliment you, but the way he was looking at you made you think that he wanted to take the dress off and have his way with you.

“Stop,” you whined and he just smiled. Even after all these years, you were still unsure of how to take a compliment.

“Don’t believe me? See for yourself, babe,” he rested his hands on your shoulders and pushed you over to your full length mirror. You looked at your reflection and had to admit that you did look hot. The dress clung to your body in all the right places and it showed just the right amount of cleavage. You were going to have to thank Robin the next time you saw her.

“I look-“ you cut yourself off, trying to find the right words.

“Hot,” Eddie finished. “Fucking hot.”

“Thanks, Eds.”

“You deserve this, y/n.” His hands moved down to your forearms, giving them a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

“I know,” you nodded.

“You deserve someone who’s nice to you,” he gave your shoulders a shake so the words would actually sink in this time.

“I know, Eddie.” He had said those exact words to you so many times but you somehow believed it that time.

“Good,” he nodded. “And if he hurts you, you just let me know and I’ll kick his ass.” You laughed again, imagining Eddie kicking anyone’s ass.

“Noted.”

“Alright, now get out of here. I’ve got Callie, okay? Let me know if I need to stay the night,” he winked and you pretended to throw up.

He had insisted on watching her for the night, assuring you that she would get fed dinner and go to bed a decent hour. You both knew that the promise of a normal bedtime was a load of shit. Callie had Eddie wrapped around her little finger and he would have let her stay up all night if she had asked.

“This isn’t a real date.”

“But it could be.”

“Thanks, Eddie,” you pulled him into a hug before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Of course. Now go get him,” he handed you your purse then gave your ass a light tap. You threw on your shoes and headed out the door to your car.

You pulled up to the address that Steve had given to you over the phone and could see why he had suggested that you have your date there. It was one of the nicest houses you had ever seen and you wondered what Steve’s parents had done for a living.

You reluctantly got out of the car and headed to the door. You knocked a few times and it took no time for it to swing open, Steve on the other side. His mouth dropped open, but his lips quickly turned up into a wide smile.

“Wow, you-“ he cut himself off, clearing his throat. “You look amazing.” You eyed his outfit which consisted of a red button up shirt that was tucked into a pair of black slacks.

“Thanks,” you smiled. “You don’t look too bad yourself, Harrington.”

He let you inside and you looked around and wondered what it would have been like to live in a place that big. You could have fit your entire trailer inside it.

The house was quiet as opposed to yours. It was nice to be somewhere you could actually think. Somewhere you didn’t have to tiptoe around just to get from place to place because you were afraid of being pulled into an argument to take sides.

Steve couldn’t believe it. The hottest girl in Hawkins was going to spend her Saturday night with him when she could have been doing literally anything else. He was going to take that as a compliment, the whole thing giving his ego a much needed boost.

You had wanted to leave as soon as Steve let you in, but you felt bad thinking about disappointing him. He had spent so much time making you dinner so you weren’t going to ruin his night by going home. Besides, Eddie was your babysitter for the night and who were you to not take advantage of that?

“Can I get you a drink? I’ve got soda and some beer in the fridge.” You almost asked for a beer so help settle your nerves but decided against it. You don’t know Steve well enough to drink around him, afraid that you’d reveal your secrets after too many drinks. You didn’t need to embarrass yourself around him.

“Sure, I’ll take a soda.” Steve led you into the kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator that didn’t seem to be as stocked as you thought it would have been. All that had been in there was a pizza, some vegetables in the crisper, a six pack of beer and two six packs of grape and orange sodas.

“Orange or grape?” Neither flavor sounded appealing to you but you felt rude for suddenly deciding you didn’t want a drink.

“Grape.” He pulled one of the sodas from the plastic holding them together and held it out to you. You took it, your fingers brushing as you did so. Just from the short touch, you could tell that his hands were soft and warm.

You opened the can and took a sip while Steve led you to the kitchen table. It was set with two glass plates with a cloth napkin aside each one with the silverware on each side of the plate.

There was also a candle in the middle of the table that was lit. It was a simple setup, but you liked that Steve had done it all for you. Even though everything was fake, you still appreciated the effort he had put in for you.

“So, I’ve split the whole thing up into multiple parts and tonight, we’re focusing on conversation.”

He held out your chair for you and took a seat while he moved to the counter to grab two bowls. One was filled with spaghetti and the other was filled with a salad. He set them on the table then sat down across from you.

“Conversation?” You tilted your head to the side and Steve thought it was adorable.

He handed over a pair of tongs and you served yourself. You hadn’t had a home cooked meal ever. All of your meals consisted of either toast or tv dinners since you didn’t really have the extra money or time to make them from scratch.

“Yep,” he nodded. “Just talking. That’s arguably the most important part.”

“Right,” you nodded. You supposed he was right. The conversation did seem to be a big part of every date you’d seen at the diner or on TV. But you sucked a small talk. Hated it, even. Most of it just ended up being people having a conversation that seemed forced that nobody participating actually gave a fuck about what was being said.

You took a bite of the spaghetti and couldn’t help but think that it was the best thing you had ever eaten. Not that you had much to compare it to. You held back a moan how good it was, trying your best to eat in silence.

You could see that Steve was looking at you and you turned to him, giving him a smile which he returned. You liked that someone was being nice to you just because they wanted to and not for anything in return.

You turned away, not wanting him to see the pink tint on your cheeks. You couldn’t let him know what you were thinking about. You had to keep your cool and seem nonchalant.

“This is really good.”

“Thank you. It’s uh, it’s my mom’s recipe.” Steve couldn’t remember the last time he had spaghetti since his mother didn’t seem to want to cook for him anymore. Now his meals consisted of pizza or food from the diner.

“That’s nice. You’ll have to thank her for me.” He’d thank her…if she was ever around. She was usually out doing god knows what. It wasn’t like Steve cared anyway. As long as she wasn’t home, he was happy. That way he wouldn’t have to listen to her or his father tell him that he was wasting his life away working at Family Video when he could be working with them. That was the thing. Steve didn’t want to work with them. He was perfectly fine where he was in his life and he wasn’t going to let anyone, not even his parents, take that away from him.

“Thanks,” you nodded. “So, uh, how do we do this?” What-oh right, this wasn’t a real date. He was just helping you and had completely forgotten until you had brought it up.

“Well,” he cleared his throat, shuffling in his seat. “I know it sounds like common sense, but just be yourself. Don’t overcomplicate it.”

“Right,” you nodded, taking a sip from your soda. “What do I do if it sucks?” That was the main question that had been on your mind the entire night.

“Well, first of all, I should let you know that most of them are going to suck.” That was not what you had wanted to hear. That was actually a deterrent to wanting to date anyone. “But you just roll with it,” he shrugged. “It’s just one night and you’ll get through it.”

“Most of them are going to suck?” Your eyebrows furrowed and Steve could see the gears turning in your head. This was the one night where he didn’t want you to worry.

“Yep,” he took a sip from his can. “But only like half of the time.”

“Oh,” you nodded, becoming even more confused as to why Steve had gone on so many dates if they were as bad as he was letting on.

“And now you’re scared, aren’t you?” He let out a chuckle and went to reach for your hand, but pulled it away once he realized what he was doing. Little did he know that you had actually wanted him to touch you. You were itching to hold his hand seeing it resting on the table.

“What?” You scoffed. “No.” Yes, yes you were. Terrified, actually.

“You don’t have to be. Sometimes dates are just bad. It’s how it is.”

“But you’ve been on what, a thousand dates? It always seems so easy for you, bad or not.” It wasn’t easy now. He was sweating bullets because he was so nervous. He decided that if you asked, he would lie and say he was just warm. He’d have been so embarrassed if you found out that you were making him nervous.

“Not always,” he leaned closer to you, lowering his voice to barely above a whisper. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Sure.”

“I’m always nervous.” You didn’t think that “Steve” and “nervous” belonged in the same sentence. He was always so cool and confident. Except when he was around you, of course.

“You’re just trying to make me feel better.” You pushed your food around your plate before taking another bite.

“I’m being honest, I swear,” he put his hands up in defense.

“Fine,” you grumbled. “I guess I believe you.”

He chuckled at that and the both of you went back to eating in silence, the only thing that could be heard was the sound of your forks clinking against your plates.

You looked up at him as you ate and gave him a warm smile when his eyes locked on yours. He smiled back, the light from the kitchen making his eyes look like honey. You had always thought they were pretty, but seeing them in the light really solidified it for you. They were even prettier than Eddie’s, which you didn’t think was possible.

Your eyes roamed over his features and stopped once they got to his moles. Those were probably your favorite features of his. You always liked those kinds of things on people, liking that it made them unique. Your cheeks got hot as you found yourself wanting to press a kiss to each one, telling him how pretty you thought they were.

You had never thought about Steve in that manner. He had been deemed off limits, but seeing him sitting there, looking so fucking pretty, your mind was wondering what exactly it would have been like to sleep with him. If he would’ve been gentle or if he would have fucked you so roughly that you wouldn’t have been able to walk afterwards.

“Do you want to do a practice run?” He asked, wiping his face with his napkin. You desperately needed a distraction from your thoughts.

“Uh, sure,” you nodded, unsure of what he could have possibly wanted to know about you. You thought you were pretty boring in comparison to his other dates.

“I’m just gonna ask you some basic questions. Pretend like I know nothing about you, alright?”

“So, do you have any siblings?” That question seemed easy enough. Maybe it wouldn’t have been as difficult as you thought.

“I have a little sister named Callie.”

“That’s cool,” he nodded “How old is she?”

“Seven. What about you? Any siblings.” You already knew that Steve didn’t have any, but you just wanted to commit to your role.

“Nope,” he shook his head. “Only child, unfortunately.”

“Do you ever get lonely?” You knew the question seemed invasive, but it was falling from your lips before you could stop it.

“Sometimes, yeah,” he admitted. “But I have friends to help with that.” You knew he mostly meant Robin. The two of them seemed to be very close. Like platonic soulmates.

“Right,” you nodded. “What are your parents like?”

“Oh, um.” Well, that wasn’t the right question. You had barely even had a conversation and you had already fucked it up.

“Sorry,” you winced. “Was that too personal?”

“No, no,” he assured you. “I just-they’re never around.”

“Well, that’s something we have in common. Mine are never around either.”

You and Steve seemed to have more in common than you had originally thought. Being from opposite sides of town and his family having more money than you’d ever see in your life, you didn’t think that you’d have anything to bond over. His family always seemed so perfect when you had heard people talk about them, but clearly that had all been an act.

Steve appreciated that you felt like you could be honest with him, especially about something so personal. He didn’t think he’d ever find out anything about you since you seemed to be so private. Clearly you had a lot of trauma so he didn’t blame you at all for keeping your life a secret.

Steve however, had been an open book. You could have asked him anything and he would have told you. That is, except his crush on you. That he kept a secret to prevent himself from being humiliated. As far as he was concerned, he would take that shit to the grave.

“Are you and Callie close?” He wanted to avoid talking any more about your parents and settled for a safe topic.

“Very,” you nodded and Steve just smiled. He liked seeing your face light up when you talked about your sister.

“I can tell you really love her.” You loved Callie more than anyone in the world and you didn’t think that would ever change.

“I really do. She’s my best friend.” And you were hers. She has told you so every night in a sleepy whisper. It warmed your heart every time to hear the words coming from her little voice.

“Is she anything like you?” Callie was just like you as far as personality went. You had raised her to take no shit from anyone and that the only opinion about her that mattered was her own.

“What’s that supposed to mean, Harrington?” You quirked an eyebrow.

“I mean, is she as feisty as you?” She definitely was. Maybe even more so.

“Once you get to know her, but at first, she’s usually super shy.” Her shyness typically seemed like a test to see if she could trust people and then when she decided that they were good enough, she’d show her true self.

“Well, I’d love to meet her.” You knew that the two of them would get along very well.

“And she’d love to meet you.” Steve would have probably ended up more wrapped around her finger than Eddie was. You could see him coloring with her on the floor of the trailer, showing him her different techniques. You could see them watching her favorite movie together on the couch, him laughing when she would quote the lines word for word. You could even see getting close to him effortlessly, whispering stuff into his ear that would be their little secret.

Steve liked hearing those words. That your sister would have liked him. He liked kids, loved them even. Especially since most of the people he usually hung out with had once been kids that he was just trying to take care of. To protect.

“So you’re saying I’m worthy of meeting your family?” He winked and you let out a nervous laugh. As long as you had anything to say about it, Steve would have never met your parents. They were just two fucked up people who refused to make any changes in their life just because they had cost a little more than they were willing to spend. You knew that they had some money hiding somewhere. Money that they had claimed had been for your college tuition that you had seen a single dime of. Money you had tried to claim to actually use for college but they suddenly acted like they had no idea what you were talking about.

“Just my sister,” you responded. “My parents don’t exactly make a good impression.” You could still remember when they met Eddie. How judgemental they had been. How they claimed that he wasn’t good enough to hang out with you. What did they know? It wasn’t like they actually knew you well enough to make that decision.

“Mine don’t either,” he shook his head. “For once, my parents came home while I had a date over and my mother was recommending places where she could get the gap in her front teeth fixed.”

“No,” you gasped.

“Yes,” Steve nodded vigorously. “I thought it was really cute and had even told her as much but she left before I could reassure her.”

“Steve, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright. So sometimes, it might not even be your fault if the date is bad,” he let out a chuckle, but you could see in his face that he didn’t actually think it was funny.

You felt bad for the guy. You knew he was just looking for “the one” but it never seemed to work out. You wondered if he thought he was destined to be lonely just like you were. If he ever blamed himself for things when they went wrong even when they weren’t his fault.

You wondered how he was still able to put himself out there despite all of his failed dates. Where he got his confidence from and how he didn’t just cancel all the time because he was afraid of things going south. That was what you would have done. And maybe that was the real difference between you and Steve. He did things despite being afraid while you stood by and watched because you’d rather keep your dignity intact than ever risk embarrassing yourself.

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Hey, relax. You’re doing really well,” he assured you and you hoped that he was telling the truth and not just trying to spare your feelings.

“I am?” Steve had never seen you so unsure before. You usually took things for what they were, not even sparing a second to ask questions. He was beginning to think that maybe that was all just an act and that the woman sitting in front of him was the “real” you. Not the version of yourself you had to put on everyday just to seem normal.

“Yeah,” he replied, taking another bite of his spaghetti. “You’re a natural.”

“So are you.”

“Well I should be with how much practice I’ve had.” You both laughed at that and continued to eat and make small talk until your plates were empty. You knew the night was drawing to a close and you didn’t want it to end. It was as if you were Cinderella and as soon as the clock struck twelve, you’d no longer be in the little fantasy Steve had made up for you. You’d have to remove your dress and go back to your real life where there seemed to be no happily afters.

The night hadn’t even been over yet and Steve was already looking forward to the next lesson. He wanted to see more of you like this, you’re true self. He liked that you didn’t seem to have your guard up. You seemed less tense and the tension between your eyebrows seemed to disappear. Your shoulders hadn’t been up to your ears, in fact, they had been pushed back as you sat across from him.

You were so fucking beautiful and seeing you sitting there in your gorgeous dress was damn near torture. The blue looked so nice against your skin and it was killing him that he couldn’t see how you felt against his hands. That he couldn’t press his lips to yours, the pretty red color smearing against his own and across his cheeks in how messy the kiss got. He wanted to see lipstick stains all along his body, but he couldn’t get himself to make a move. This was all fake, after all. As if you’d actually go on a real date with Steve Harrington.

Steve led you to the front door and it felt disorienting for him to not take you up to his room. You knew that his other dates ended that way, but this was different. He was just helping you out. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything.

So why did you want him to take you by the hand and lead you to his bedroom? Why did you want to feel his soft hands against your thighs, sliding up your dress? Why did you want to know exactly what his lips felt like? If they were as soft as they looked. If he was as good of a kisser the girls in town said he was.

You felt yourself getting wet just thinking about it and for once, you weren’t going to do anything about it. At least not with Steve. You couldn’t risk ruining your friendship because you couldn’t keep your hormones in check. You’d never forgive yourself if you pushed him away because you couldn’t control yourself.

“This was really nice,” you told him as you both stood at the door, neither of you making a move to open it.

“See, I told you there was nothing to worry about,” he nudged your shoulder.

“I know. I was just worrying for nothing.” Steve watched you rifle through your purse, clearly looking for something.

You pulled out a small black tube and moved over to the mirror that was by the door. You opened the thing and Steve could see a little bit of red peeking out from the top, realizing that it was lipstick. He stood behind you, watching you twist it up so you had more access to the product. You opened your mouth slightly and applied the color to your lips slowly. Steve watched you in amazement. It was as if you had hypnotized the man. He was standing there, unmoving, his mouth slightly agape.

You weren’t even doing it on purpose. This was a move you had perfected to get people into bed and it had a hundred percent success rate. This time, you just wanted to touch up the color since most of it had rubbed off while you were eating. Why you were doing it when you were about to leave, you didn’t know. Maybe you were trying to give Steve one last chance to make a move.

His hand rested on your shoulder and you had to look down so he couldn’t see your triumphant smile in the reflection. You guessed Steve wasn’t as strong as he looked. You looked at him as his other hand moved to your face. His thumb rubbed at the corner of your bottom lip where the color had bled onto your skin only for it to smudge.

“Whoops,” he chuckled, looking down at his now stained thumb. “I didn’t mean to smudge it.”

“It’s okay.” I wanted you to smudge it, was what you wanted to say. But you didn’t. “It doesn’t take much to do that.”

“Right,” he chuckled again. You didn’t miss how his gaze hadn’t left your lips. He had wanted it as much as you did. So the trick worked. Steve wasn’t immune like you thought he had been.

And just when you had him right where you wanted him, he opened the door for you. Despite your confusion, you stepped through it, Steve closing it behind him so the two of you were standing on the front step. There was so little space that you were practically chest to chest.

He slowly leaned towards you, trying to gauge your reaction for any signs that you didn’t want him to continue. You wanted it. You wanted it so bad, but you couldn’t let him do it. You just knew that if you kissed him, you wouldn’t want to stop. And you couldn’t have that. You were in control. You called the shots. And you weren’t going to get Steve fucking Harrington have that effect on you.

Just as his lips were about to meet yours, you turned your face so they landed on your cheek instead. He quickly pulled away and you slowly turned your head to look at him. His eyes widened and his lips parted, like he couldn’t believe what he had done. He looked like he was about to speak and you just couldn’t listen to what he had to say.

“Goodnight, Steve. Thanks again for tonight.”

You rushed down the steps as he called your name and almost tripped on the concrete of his driveway because of how fast your were moving. You pulled your keys out of your purse and couldn’t seem to unlock your car quick enough. You opened the door and made the mistake of looking at Steve one last time. He was still standing there, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he watched you get into the car.

You slammed the door shut and practically floored it all the back to your trailer. You were never going to be able to look Steve in the eye again. You were going to have to quit Family Video. You were going to have to stop hanging out with Robin.

You had wanted to kiss Steve so you had no idea why you had turned your head at the last second. And now you had hurt him just because you had been afraid of what it could have led to if you had given in. You had gotten scared because you hadn’t been in control of your feelings for once.

You pulled up to your trailer and raced inside, closing the door, leaning against it. Eddie was on the couch alone which led you to believe that he had actually made her go to bed at a decent time, which was rare. He turned to you and his eyebrows furrowed at your distressed state.

“What happened?” He clicked off the TV and gave you his full attention, hoping that he wasn’t actually going to have to kick Steve’s ass. If that man has laid a non-consensual finger on you, he’d be fucking dead.

“He tried to kiss me, Eddie.”

“I’ll kill him,” he stood up from the couch, cracking his knuckles.

“No,” you moved towards him. “I wanted him too.”

“Oh,” he scoffed, sitting back down on the couch. “Then what’s the big deal?”

“This big deal is that he tried to kiss me, Eddie.” You sat down next to him, burying your face into your hands.

“Damn, one date and you’re already falling for him?” He laughed. “He’s good.”

“This is serious.”

“Is it, though?” He stood up from the couch and headed over to the fridge and pulled out the box of wine. He figured you were going to need some.

“Yes.” You turned to look at him as he rifled through the cabinets for two wine glasses.

“Because it kind of seems like you just don’t want to fall for him.” You hated that he was always able to read you like a book. He was the one person who could see right through you.

“I don’t,” you crossed your arms over your chest and he whipped around to look at you. You had finally admitted it after months of denying feelings for Steve.

“Ah-ha!” He pointed at you. “So you admit it.”

“I admit nothing.” You wouldn’t have been caught dead admitting that you liked anyone in a romantic sense. That was for losers and you were most definitely not a loser.

“That’s because you’re a coward.” He handed you a glass of wine and you took a few sips before setting it down on the coffee table.

Maybe you were a coward, but you were going to wear that label proudly if it meant you didn’t have to admit that you were crushing on Steve. There was no way you’d ever tell anyone that. Not even yourself. To you, love was still bullshit. You’d seen your parents, you’d seen your grandparents. Apparently happily ever after just didn’t exist in your family and that was just how it was.

Eddie had seen every single one of your hookups fail except for him. He wondered what would have happened if he had feelings for you. If you would have kicked him to the curb if he had told how he felt. If that was the only reason you kept him around.

“Well, if the shoe fits,” you leaned back against the couch, propping your feet up onto the coffee table.

“You made a deal with him, y/n. You can’t just avoid him because you’re afraid.”

“Of course I can.” You took another sip of your wine, not liking how little effect it was having on you. You were usually buzzed by that point.

“Then that means you’re no better than me,” he tsked, shaking his head.

“Yeah, right,” you scoffed. “You’re the biggest coward of them all, Eddie.” If you looked up the definition in the dictionary, his name would be right there.

“Sure, but I’d never deny my feelings because I was afraid of being vulnerable. Oh, that’s right, you don’t have feelings.”

“Damn straight.”

“That’s not something to be proud of, babe,” he gave your knee a pat. “Well, you have fun being in denial, I’m gonna go to bed.”

“So we’re not hooking up tonight?” You asked as you watched him stand from the couch and made his way over to the door.

“As if I’d fuck a taken woman,” he gasped, putting his hand up to his chest. “Even I’m better than that, y/n.”

“Eddie,” you groaned, trying to get to him but he closed the door before you could catch him.

You leaned against it, running your hands through your hair. Your life had somehow gotten worse after letting Steve in. You went on a really nice date with him and ended up hurting his feelings because you wouldn’t kiss him. Now you couldn’t stand to look at him again and your best friend was laughing at you while you were in pain. There was no way it could have possibly have gotten any fucking worse.

[lives-in-midgard]

The Story Of Us

(Musician AU Part 1)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: When your best friend Yelena convinced you to go to a blind date you were surprised when you saw a familiar face there.

Word Count: 1380

A/N: Hey everyone! This is the first part of Steve's Story in my musician AU. I hope you like it! The divider is made by @firefly-graphics.

Part 1 | Part 2

Masterlist | Musician AU

You don’t like first dates, especially blind dates. It’s been a while since you have been in a relationship, and you didn’t plan on going on a date very soon. But when your best friend Yelena who works at the bar you are currently in told she found the right guy for you, you couldn’t say no to her. You really couldn’t, Yelena wouldn’t accept a no. That’s why you were now sitting in the corner of Romanoff’s bar waiting for your date. You listened to the music and looked to Yelena. Suddenly you could see a guy with a cap walking up to her and she stopped what she was doing. Yelena greeted him and then they both looked at you. You couldn’t see his face because the cap and his glasses were covering his face but he kinda looked familiar to you. When he started to walk to you, you got more nervous and the more near he came the more familiar he looked. When he stood in front of your table, and you looked into his ocean blue eyes you immediately knew who he was.

It’s Steve Rogers

Your Steve

Your high school best friend Steve

The Steve you had a huge crush on

The Steve you left because you couldn’t see him with someone else anymore.

The Steve who is now in the famous band Midnight Rockers

Memories started to fill your head. Good memories but also sad ones. You and Steve. When you first met in high school, becoming best friends, laughing, and having so much fun together, him playing his first song to you. Steve was always by your side when you were feeling down. Steve telling you that he wants to make a band with his best friends Bucky and Sam, later they met Clint, and he became a band member too. And then something happened, and you started to get feelings for him. You studied the whole night together and then you ended up falling asleep on his shoulder.

But then one day Steve told you about his feelings for Peggy and asked for your help. You gave him advice and after a while they were a couple. They were very happy together, so you and Steve didn’t spend as much time together anymore. When Steve asked her out to prom right in front of you, you decided to go to another college than him. You couldn’t see them so happy together every day, it just made you so sad. Leaving Steve and the boys was one of the hardest decisions in your life. You told him that you would stay friends but after a while you didn’t text him anymore. It made you sad and Steve too. You listened to every song they put on YouTube and when a music producer found them, and they were selling their first album you couldn’t be happier for them. You never stopped following his music career and were very proud of how far he has come. On some days you thought about calling him and telling him how proud you are of him and that you missed him. But you were too afraid, so you never called him and just admired his music from a far. What you didn’t know was how sad, and hurt Steve felt when you left. He wrote songs about you and when they got popular, they even released it.

It was such a long time since you saw him in person and now, he was suddenly standing right in front of you, looking at you with his beautiful eyes.

“Steve?” You said in the exact same time as he said your name. You began to blush and then also started to wonder how Yelena knew him.

“Can I sit down?” He asked you. You weren’t sure if it is a good idea, but you were also happy to see him again. You have been thinking and daydreaming about this moment for a long time and now it’s here. Maybe it’s a sign you thought.

“Sure.” You said with a shaky voice, and he sat down on the chair on the other side of the table.

“I can leave if you don’t want me to stay.” Steve softly said and took of his glasses that were only there so he won’t get recognized from fans or other people who could know him from his band.

“No, it’s just I…I wasn’t expecting you.” Steve scratched his neck and then began to talk.

“I’m sorry, I also had no idea that you’re the one Yelena said I should meet.”

“How do you know Yelena?” You asked.

“Her sister Natasha is a good friend of mine.” You nodded.

“Maybe, it’s better if I leave.” Steve suddenly said and wanted to stand up.

“No, wait. Maybe we could talk, only if you want of course.” Steve sat back down, and you continued.

“There were so many times when I thought of calling or texting you.”

“You did?” Steve asked and you nodded.

“Me too. I missed you so much there were so many things that I wanted to tell you, especially when we made our first album that time was really crazy.” You could see a sad look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry that we lost contact.” You said and felt really sorry but back then it felt like the right thing to do.

“Hey, it’s okay. You probably had a lot to do at college and stuff.” Steve guessed and you nodded. It was right you had a lot to do but someday you felt so alone but decided to not call him.

“So, what did I miss all those years?” Steve asked and you chuckled. Then you told him almost everything he missed. Steve listened interested and asked a lot questions. Of course, you also asked him some questions. You laughed, talked and talked. You two had such a good time that you didn’t even recognize how late it got. Suddenly you realized the song that was played in the background and began to smile. It was the song Steve and you always listened while learning for school. Steve chuckled and then began to sing along to it, and you hid your face with your hands.

“Come sing with me. “When you put your hands away you saw Steve singing with a smile. You were to shy to sing in front of him especially now that he is a professional singer.

“I’m not a good singer, Steve.”

“That’s not important we’re just having fun.” Steve softly said and you were about to start when the music suddenly stopped.

“But next time you sing with me, okay?” You nodded and after a while you looked around you and saw that only a few people were there anymore. You saw Yelena grinning at you from the bar. You looked at your clock and saw that it was already late. You and Steve both decided that it was time to leave. Steve walked over to the bar and paid for the both of you. You said that he didn’t have to, but he insisted in it. Steve walked you to your car and when it was time to say goodbye you didn’t want this to end.

“I’m glad Yelena told you to come. It was nice to see you again.” You smiled and Steve smiled back.

“Me too and I promise this time we won’t lose each other again.” Steve then asked for your phone number and told you to text him when you are home safe. Before leaving you gave him a quick hug and then opened the door to your car.

When you got home you texted Steve. After a few minutes he texted back:

“I’m glad you’re home safe. Goodnight, sweet dreams.”

You smiled to yourself and were happy to have him back in your life. When you were in bed you noticed that you didn’t talk about if it was a date or not. Probably not you thought, it would be better to just stay friends. Or you hoped that you could because if he is as cute as back in high school then you would have no chance in not falling in love with him.

[still-breathing-au-p3r]

It’s really nothing new to have a flood of texts and emails spamming his phone after class. The fact that it’s nothing new these days is very new. It’s such a wild change from how things were before he came to Iwatodai that sometimes it’s overwhelming. Minato actually kind of enjoys it despite that– or maybe a little bit because of it– even if he does leave most of them on read.

He’s never had so many friends before. If he’s completely, brutally honest with himself about it, he’s really never had any friends before. None that really counted, anyway. None that had stuck around after one too many conversations where he said too little, or worse– said something they didn’t want to hear.

Now he has a whole compendium of people who know exactly what he’s like and still not only tolerate his company, but actively seek it– and all of them want to hang out at the same time. So now it’s the opposite problem, maybe?

Most of them understand and don’t take offense. Sometimes Tomochika and Miyamoto are a little pushy– or very pushy in Miyamoto’s case– but otherwise it’s fine. It’s a much nicer problem to have, all things considered. It’s been what’s kept his head above water for the past two weeks.

Minato scrolls through his phone, reading through today’s invitations. The track team does have practice today, and lo and behold, there’s Miyamoto’s trademark capslock enthusiasm right at the top of his inbox– but that’s not what grabs his attention. Just below Miyamoto’s is a message from someone he definitely wasn’t expecting.

It’s Aragaki. The subject line reads “Need a favor”. 

Minato can count on one hand the number of times Aragaki has messaged him personally, so it must be important. But then why not say something about it when everyone had visited yesterday? He opens the email, curiosity climbing.

Sorry to ask, but I need you to grab something from my desk and bring it to me. You’ll know it when you see it. Door should be unlocked. 

Straight and to the point, just like always. He can practically hear how Aragaki would say it, the exact matter-of-fact tone he’d use.

He’s got no proof, but Minato has an inkling as to what Aragaki is referring to. Or at least, he knows what he hopes that Aragaki means. If his hunch is right, then it explains perfectly why he’s asking Minato for this favor instead of Sanada or Mitsuru, and why he wouldn’t have wanted to bring it up in front of everyone else.

He’ll be missing track practice today, it seems. Minato can’t turn down this request for anything. He hopes Miyamoto and Yuko will understand. 

��

He finds exactly what he’d been hoping to find in Aragaki’s desk drawer. 

He can’t help the soft smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth at the sight of  the familiar envelope. On the paperwork inside, the date and reason are blank, but…

The signature is unmistakable. That’s Aragaki’s handwriting. 

His smile falters. A part of him wonders if this is just some kind of mind game. Maybe Aragaki just intends to tear the form up, and he knows Minato is the only one who would blithely bring it right to him. He doesn’t want to think that Aragaki is that cruel, but…

Well. Okay. Minato knows he isn’t. While that’s certainly the sort of sick prank that the world might play on him, it’s not something Aragaki would ever do. He’s kind of surprised that such a vehemently bitter idea even crossed his mind.

So maybe he is still… a little miffed… that Aragaki so blatantly lied to him. And went off to die without a word. And catapulted him into the nightmare memory of another hospital bed, another figure being consumed by wires and machinery. That last one isn’t really Aragaki’s fault, but Minato still can’t help being upset. 

It really is the lie that bothers him the most, though. It’s a little unnerving, how much it’s getting under his skin, when normally Minato wouldn’t be this upset, or even upset at all, about being lied to. Minato hadn’t felt this way when Yukari confronted Mitsuru about all the secrets she was keeping. He hadn’t cared what Mitsuru had been hiding. Honesty just never has been a sore point with him. So…why does this feel so different?

The only way he’s going to get any real answers or closure is to see this favor through to the finish. Minato pockets the envelope and makes his way back to the hospital. 

The smell of antiseptic hits him like a truck as soon as he crosses the threshold into the lobby. How does Junpei stand spending so much of his time here? Or Sanada, for that matter, who had come here every day since Aragaki was admitted. It makes him want to sprint right back out into the open air just thinking about doing the same. 

He arrives at Aragaki’s door. He seems to have skipped a few steps– he’s gone straight from the entryway to the patient wing without a single recollection of speaking to the receptionist or walking through the halls. Aragaki is awake in there, Minato sternly reminds himself. It’s his friend on the other side of that door, not an empty shell that used to be him. 

He knocks, and obeys when he’s bid to come inside. Aragaki regards him quietly for a few seconds. There aren’t any other visitors right now; Sanada must still be in practice.

Minato nods and produces the envelope from his pocket. Aragaki nods as he takes it, but his expression is subdued and unreadable.

He tucks it away into the drawer on the small side table to his left. He looks back at Minato and frowns.

Minato doesn’t respond. Aragaki blinks, surprise softening his features for half a second before the scowl settles back into place.

Minato doesn’t feel his face doing anything in particular. He wonders vaguely what Aragaki sees in his expression, but decides it’s better not to ask. Time to move on.

Minato must be making another face, because Aragaki rolls his eyes.

He’s got permission to leave if he so chooses. That’s clearly what Aragaki expects, but leaving things like this on such a sour note doesn’t sit well with Minato at all. 

Neither of them are good at talking, but there’s quite a bit Minato knows needs to be said. As leader, it really is his job, and… it’s his job as a friend, too.

Aragaki must take his silence the wrong way again and scowls at him.

Part of Minato does really want to tear into him, craves the catharsis of it. Aragaki even seems to want him to as well, as if to prove some kind of point to himself. But Minato doesn’t think there’s anything he could say that Sanada wouldn’t have already. 

Besides, being angry is exhausting. Minato’s already tired enough.

He settles himself in one of the chairs at Aragaki’s bedside and folds his hands in his lap.

“I…want to apologize,” he says.

“Huh?” Aragaki looks surprised again. Minato wonders if having his emotions put on shuffle like that is as draining for Aragaki as it would be for him.

“Everyone else visited you at least once before you woke up, but… I didn’t. I was too scared. I didn’t want to see you like that, Senpai.”

Aragaki just blinks at him, as though Minato’s apology is so far from what he’d been expecting that he’s stuck in a frozen state as he tries to process it. Minato wonders if this is what people mean when they tell him that his long silences and stares make them uncomfortable. 

“You…” Aragaki shakes his head, exasperated.

Minato pushes forward. “So… I’m sorry. For being such a coward.” 

“Cut that out, seriously. You don’t need to– I wasn’t even awake. S’not like I would’ve known if you were here or not.”

“Still.”

“The hell d’you mean, ‘still’? Just forget about it. It’s fine.” Aragaki sighs hugely, and his voice softens when he speaks again. “I mean that. It’s fine.”

“It’s really not though. Not to me. I don’t want you to think I don’t care.”

“You’re really sayin’ that like it ain’t your catchphrase?” Aragaki scoffs. 

“Got me there,” Minato says with another ghost of a smile. Now that he’s on the other end of it, Minato suddenly has a better appreciation of what Aragaki said to him a month ago at Hagakure. It really is refreshing to have someone say something to you straight instead of beating around the bush. “But I’d like to visit now, if that’s okay.”

“...Look, that’s real sweet and everything, but I ain’t really in a chattin’ mood right now.”

“That’s fine,” Minato replies. “Neither am I. I pretty much never am.” He digs into his bag and pulls out a book, opening it across his knees. He runs his thumb over the edge of the pages, worn to moth-wing softness by age. “But I’ll still be here.”

Aragaki doesn’t answer, so Minato shifts his attention fully to his book. He only gets through about a page and a half before Aragaki’s grumbling voice cuts into the silence again. “...Anyone ever tell you you’re a goddamn weirdo?”

“Junpei says that a lot, actually.”

“Hmph. Well don’t tell Junpei I agree with him on that,” Aragaki says, his mouth twisting wryly to one side. “It’ll go to his head.” 

“You got it, Senpai.” 

Aragaki makes a sound that might be a scoff, but might also be a suppressed laugh, and just like that the tension in the air dissipates. The next couple of hours pass mostly in silence, but pleasantly. Minato doles out books to Aragaki, and to Fuuka and Sanada when they arrive. They have occasional fragments of conversation amongst themselves, particularly after Mitsuru arrives near the end of visiting hours.

It feels comfortable, normal. The smell of old paper and bookbinding glue overpowers that of medicinal sterility. Minato even manages to forget, for just a moment, that they’re in a hospital at all.

[lambsouvlaki]

Happy holidays! Can we get some Jay Andy and Sophie Christmas fluff pleaswe? Maybe all of them doing a family date at a Christmas tree farm or decorating their tree? I love your dad fics on such a personal level hehe

Thanks!

Thanks for the fun request, anon! I really enjoyed this one, I hope you like it.

---

Andy strolled back into the living room, sweeping up one of Sophie’s plush toys from the ground on her way to Jason, who was standing in front of the Christmas tree with his hands on his hips. He was in fluffy socks, cargo pants, and a hideous festive sweater. He assessed the magnificent tree like a worthy foe. 

Andy was more interested in the plush. It was a gangly elf in a green jerkin and pixie boots, red hat, and a little yellow belt and collar. Sophie had clumsily scribbled a domino mask over the eyes in marker.

“What was it like working for Santa?” Andy asked seriously. 

“Hm?”

She showed him the toy. 

Jason cackled. 

“For Christmas, little Jimmy, you get Justice,” he said in his best Dark Knight rumble.

“Holy milk and cookies, Batman!”

“Damian will hate that so much, remind me to take a photo later,” he said, then turned back to the tree.

She watched him detangle one of the tinsel ropes and rearrange it to his standards. He was taking this very seriously. 

Christmas back when they were just dating was never this big an affair. That first year she placed his present on the kitchen bench beneath a single pine cone. He got her a better antivirus for her laptop. Neither thought anything of it. 

But they weren’t just going out now. Not just two friends who fell in love, two dorks who hid their faces in each other’s shoulders on bad days, and giggled themselves to sleep over stupid jokes. He wasn’t just the guy who got her pregnant, either. 

She watched Jason pout over the exact placement of a bauble. 

That was her family now. 

Weird. 

She put elf robin down and slowly attached herself to his side. He put his arm around her shoulders, holding her in place, while still focusing on the tree. 

It was a real beauty.

She couldn’t get the time off work to go down to the farm to pick it, so Jason and Sophie went alone. The two-year-old only kind of knew what was going on but was very excited to be going on an important mission with her current favourite person. 

Andy pretended she wasn’t disappointed at missing out. She didn’t even know why she cared, the idea had never been very interesting before.

They brought back a massive douglas fir that made the most of the apartment’s high ceilings. She was gobsmacked at the size and laughed at the sight of Jason in a Santa hat hauling it out of the freight elevator. Sophie cheered and stamped her feet with excitement. Decorating it took half the day and Sophie drifted off to sleep on his shoulder halfway through. 

Jason started undoing the tinsel again. 

“What’s going on, babe?” Andy asked. 

“Not enough gold on this side,” he replied. “And that line of red baubles is too uniform. And there’s not enough tinsel.”

She looked around. There was tinsel everywhere. They were going to be vacuuming up sparkly bits well into January. 

“And the star’s too small,” he muttered. 

“Jay.”

“Hm?”

“Why are you obsessing over Christmas decorations?”

He blinked. “I am not.”

“I’ve seen you defuse bombs with less focus.” 

He huffed a breath. “It’s my first Christmas home with you two. I want it to be special. Sophie deserves–” He ducked his head. “She deserves a good dad.”

Andy leaned her head against his shoulder. “And a good mom.”

He scoffed. “Which she has.”

“I burned the gingerbread men. You’re making me look bad.”

He scoffed again, looking away now. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess I’m being silly, huh?” he said. 

She frowned and wished she hadn’t joked. She hadn’t realised how important it was to him. She wrapped her arms around his waist.

“You know,” she said, haltingly, “I don’t really… have any good memories of family Christmases.” 

He looked down at her, his brow lowered. “Oh.” 

It was her turn to look away. “I’m enjoying making these ones with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He wrapped his arms around her. She rested her face on his chest. He put his chin on top of her head. 

“You’re doing great, Jay. I don’t think Soph’s ever been this excited before.”

He let out a gusty breath, and his shoulders relaxed. “Thanks, baby. I just… I want to do right by you. Both of you.”

“I know.”

He kissed her forehead. 

“Where is the little nugget, anyway?” she asked. 

He lifted a branch with his foot.

A toddler wrapped in tinsel squealed and retreated further beneath the tree. 

Next>>

[baronessblixen]

Prompt: 23. "No, you won't understand, ever."

A different kind of post-episode fic for "The Unnatural": After his and Scully's baseball date, Mulder runs into Diana. (spoiler alert: this is an MSR fic) wc: 1,226

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2023

Fictober Day 21: No Longer Stuck In The Past

He sees her waiting in front of his apartment, leaning against the door, and he stops for a moment, feeling like he’s stepped into the past. Back then, something odd years ago, this exact moment has happened. Except back then, his heart had soared, his lips had twisted into a smile, and her sight was welcome. Today, none of it applies.

“Diana,” he says as a way of greeting. “What are you doing here? It’s late.” He unlocks the door to his apartment and she just walks past him. Her perfume isn’t the same as it was back then, so it doesn’t carry any memories for him. All it makes him think about is Scully. Her softness and her subtlety. The exact opposite of everything Diana is.

“I came to see you, Fox.” She’s smiling and he looks at her, trying to find that part of him that was in love with her. “Were you out playing baseball with some friends?” Her smile is wavering. He knows why she’s asking. And what she really wants to know.

“In a way,” he replies, not wanting to give her what she wants. “What do you want? Is it a case? Did anything happen?”

“No, nothing of the sort. I wanted to see you. I called but… I miss you, Fox.” She’s walking closer to him and he’s rooted to the spot. “You’ve always loved baseball.” She reaches out and touches his jersey. The one that has Scully all over it. Diana blurs in front of him and turns into Scully. Into the moment when they said goodbye. She touched his arm as if unsure if she should let him go. He felt the same. But tonight wasn’t about jumping on trains or breaking into government facilities. Tonight was a new beginning. The start of a new iteration of them. Without saying a single word, they both decided to go home alone. Now he wishes they hadn’t.

“You couldn’t tell me that at work?”

“That’s hardly a conversation for the basement, is it?” She tilts her head, giving him all her best moves.

“You could have called.”

“I told you that I tried. You weren’t picking up.”

“Because I was busy,” he says.

“That’s why I came here.” She’s always been like this. Took whatever she wanted. Even if it meant being pushy. The one time he pushed back, she disappeared into the night without a single word of goodbye. Now she’s standing here, claiming she misses him. She’s the same Diana she was when he was in love with her. But he’s not the same Mulder.

“I’m tired, Diana. I had a long day and I’d like to go to bed.”

“Oh right, you have a bed now. When did that happen?”

“How did you even know I’d come home tonight?” His words hit her unexpectedly, that much is clear. She recoils as if he just hit her.

“Where else would you have gone?”

He laughs. There’s no humor in it whatsoever. “That’s so you. You really think that I- Diana, please leave, okay? Before either of us does something we might regret. We can talk tomorrow. We can meet for a coffee or-”

“Coffee?” She spits the word. “I don’t want to drink coffee and reminisce, Fox.” No, he thinks. That’s not what she wants. She wants to push her way back into his life. Into his pants, and into his mind. He’s never seen so clearly. It’s as if someone has removed a blindfold. Scully, he thinks. It must have been Scully. He thought she was just jealous; that may have played a part. But he sees now what she must have seen in Diana in the beginning. His heart breaks all over again, like it did back then. This time, however, it breaks for what could have been. They could have become friends, allies. It’s not what she wants. At all.

“I was playing baseball, Diana. But I wasn’t with some friends. I was with Scully.” Diana snorts.

“I don’t understand what you see in her.”

“No,” he says, a half-laugh slipping from his mouth. “You won’t understand, ever.”

“She doesn’t get you, Fox. I see the way she undermines you.” Diana is pleading with him. She must know that what she’s saying is far from the truth. But she doesn’t give up. They have that in common.

“You don’t know her at all. Or me, for that matter. You did – once. When I was younger. I’m no longer the same man.”

“Clearly,” she says, derision in her voice. “You’d pick her. After everything we’ve been through?” She takes a step toward him and he lets her. “After everything we’ve done?” Her hand is on his chest and she looks up at him, her eyes begging.

He thinks of nights when they sat here together, talking about the X-Files. Nights where they were wrapped up in each other. Nights full of passion. They’re a part of him, but they’re in the past. And for once, he has no desire to revisit it. He touches her hand and sees hope bloom in her eyes. But he removes it from his chest, holding it a moment longer.

“I’m grateful for what we had, Diana. And I’d like to be friends. That’s all we’re going to be, though.”

“Friends.” There’s hurt in her expression and her whole demeanor. She thought she had him. She thought she could convince him. Mulder knows her. He can read her all too well. He doesn’t know why he was so blind before. Maybe he didn’t want to see. He closed his eyes and turned away, refusing to face the truth.

“You’re choosing her?” To him, it’s not a choice, but he knows Diana wants an answer so he nods. “You’re not even together,” she says lamely, making Mulder chuckle in spite of the situation.

“My relationship with Scully is not your business, Diana.”

“You really have changed,” she says, picking up her purse. The pain of rejection is still evident, but he thinks there’s admiration in her voice, too. “Well, I’ll be going then. You know where to find me if you do change your mind. You don’t know what you’re missing out on.”

He remains quiet, biting his lip. He does know what he’s letting go. And he’s ready. His arms tingle with the memory of holding Scully. Her soft form pressed against him. The trust she put in him to help her hit each ball that was flung at them. Her laughter. The sweetest sound he’s ever heard. And he wants to hear it again. And again, and again.

“You’re not even listening, are you?” Diana says. “I’ll see you at work then.”

“Goodbye, Diana,” he says and she just throws him a look, not saying another word. He doesn’t wait until her steps recede outside and grabs the phone. He dials her number by heart and she picks up after just a few rings.

"It's me," he says, smiling and wishing he could see her.

“Mulder?” she asks, perplexed. “Are you okay?”

“I’m more than okay, Scully. I was just missing you.”

“You saw me an hour ago.”

“I know.” He grins. The memory of Diana’s visit is fading already. “But it was a long hour. A very long hour.” On the other end of the line, Scully laughs.

[cookstorys]

𝚅𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜

_____________

Character- Miguel Diaz

Show/Movie- Cobra Kai

Warning- Cussing, cute, Demetri and Hawk are dating bc y not, Miguel bein bbg 🤭

Note- Wish I thought of this on valentines 🧍🏾, and yes I did indeed look into information about bracelets

Females dni

_____________

“This place looks pretty expensive.” Miguel was awed as he walked into the perfectly decorated jewelry store. “Which means chicks will dig anything from here,” Hawk smirked. “Once again [name] isn’t a chick.” Miguel didn't know why he trusted Hawk and Demetri to help him with this. They were both losers when it came to relationships. It took them 4years to finally confess to liking each other. He was starting to wish he had waited for his mom or Sam to be free.

“Look given your past experiences, it’s best if you buy something more expensive. You know, to seal the deal.” Demetri perked as the teens walked up to the display of heavily shiny jewelry. “Get this one, no this one, or this one. There’s so many to choose from.” Demetri looked as if he was spazzing out. “Dude your freaking out again,” Hawk mentioned then turned to focus back on Miguel. “So what are we thinking? Earrings? Necklace?” The clerk asked. “I don’t know yet, it’s our 1st anniversary and I just wanted to give him something special.” Miguel grinned at the clerk. She couldn’t help but give the same grin back. “I think I have something you may like, give me one moment.” She smiled and left towards the back room.

“Why don’t you give me anniversary gifts?” Demetri asked crossing his arms together and giving his boyfriend an eye roll. “Probably because you force me to celebrate all our first. First kiss, first time holding hands in public, hell you even celebrate our first time seeing each other as a couple.” Hawk shot back. Before Demetri could shoot back a comeback, the young clerk came back with a box of nicely arranged bracelets. She pointed to one specifically. “This one has top of the line 18k white gold bracelet, surrounded by 60 Pavé Diamonds, for a extra fee we’re willing to give you a chance to engrave anything you want into it. It’s can be your anniversary date, a quote, a name, anything of the natural.” Holy shit. Miguel only understands a quarter of what she said but the bracelet itself was definitely worth the listen.

“What’s the price?” He asked still memorized by the gorgeousness of the bracelet itself. “Well, right now this one-of-a-kind bracelet is sitting at about 899$ but with the engraving, it could bounce up to about 950$. However plus tax and if you want our insurance plan that’ll all equal up to roughly 1,238$.” She finished. Miguel let out a modified laugh. That’s more than his paycheck in two months. “Can we look for a cheaper option?” Miguel smiled. “And by cheaper he means a LOT more.” Hawk chipped in which sent a smack on the back of his head by Demetri.

That’s when he saw it. A necklace with a cute bear charm attached to it. The exact stuffed animal he won you on your first date. “How about that.” He pointed. “That is indeed on our cheaper side. 210$ with engravings it’ll be 260$.” Miguel gave the clerk a huge smile. That was perfect and in his price range. “I’ll take it, with engravings also.”

___________________

“Gift time!” You enthused as Miguel sat on your bed. You stood from your position and went over to the hiding spot of Miguel’s gift and returned to your spot in front of him on the bed. “I wanna go first.” You smiled and handed him the gift. He nervously unwrapped it but smiled when he got to the gift itself. He lifted a big book from the box and opened it and saw all the memories you’ve made together, even before becoming a couple. “I love it, baby.” He smiled and leaned over to set a sweet, simple kiss on your cheek.

“My turn now.” He handed you a much smaller box and a lighter box. You lifted the top to reveal the gift inside, and to your surprise it was empty. “ um I think yo-.” You cut off your sentence when you saw Miguel holding a shiny necklace with a cute bear hanging in the middle. “No way.” You laughed not even trying to contain your excitement. You turned around allowing Miguel to place the necklace around your neck. It surprisingly felt a tad bit heavy but it was so worth it. “You have no idea how much this means to me.” You smiled planting a long passionate kiss on his lips.

[ridiasfangirlings]

Yata somehow finds himself back in time as his younger self and it's the day when Fushimi was to make his betrayal and leave Homra. Yata, being from the future post-RoK, now know what made Fushimi leave and what ruined their friendship. Would he change the past?

I feel like Yata would definitely try but I don’t know if it would do him any good, I feel like at that point Fushimi is just not in a headspace to take ‘I still want to be your friend’ from Yata no matter how sincerely Yata tries. Like imagine Yata gets hit by a Strain and finds himself sent back in time. He doesn’t even realize it at first until he gets a text from Totsuka saying that they haven’t seen Fushimi at all today. Yata gets choked up for a moment and then checks the date, realizing with a start that it’s showing years ago. He feels like there’s something about this date that he should know and then he looks at his messages again, where he’s been asking everyone if they’ve seen Saruhiko because a lot of his stuff is missing at the apartment. Yata’s stomach just drops as he realizes exactly what day this is and what’s about to happen. 

Yata knows he really shouldn’t try to change the past, he’s watched movies before after all, but the temptation is so strong — what if he could change just this one small thing, even if he can’t get Fushimi to stay in Homra (and now he knows why that isn’t an option) maybe he could still be Fushimi’s friend and they wouldn’t have missed so many years together. He decides he has to try, he at least has to make an attempt, and he heads to the alley where he knows Fushimi’s waiting. Yata’s demeanor is serious as he asks Fushimi where he’s been and why his stuff is gone, swallowing down all the memories of bitterness and pain, fists still clenching when he sees that twisted smile on Fushimi’s face.

Fushimi starts talking about how he’s going to S4 and how stupid and useless Homra is and rather than getting mad Yata just asks him ‘Saruhiko. Is that how you really feel?’. Fushimi is taken aback by this Misaki who won’t rise to the bait and Yata tries to word it calmly and clearly, that he understands Fushimi feels like he doesn’t belong in Homra and maybe S4 is better for him but they don’t have to break things this way, Fushimi doesn’t have to break them this way. Fushimi’s expression waivers for just a moment and Yata starts to feel hopeful but then Fushimi just laughs in Yata’s face all you don’t know anything at all Misaki, how stupid. Yata starts to respond that he does know but then he closes his mouth, even Yata is smart enough to realize that if he knows things that the Yata of this time wouldn’t know it will immediately put Fushimi on guard. 

Instead he tries to argue that it’s okay, Yata still wants to be his friend, and Fushimi laughs again as he’s like we were never friends. Yata is like you don’t mean that, come on let’s just talk about this rationally and this is where I think Fushimi throws that in his face, that Yata is an idiot who never wants to talk about things and how he needs to start seeing Fushimi as his enemy, and then Fushimi places his burning hand right on his own tattoo. Poor Yata is still horrified by it because I imagine this is still a traumatizing moment for him even in the future, remembering how Fushimi hurt himself, and the desperate smile on Fushimi’s face in response just makes it worse. Fushimi says that even if Yata wants to be friends Fushimi doesn’t, and Fushimi has all the time in the world to teach Yata why Yata should hate him. Yata’s abruptly pulled back to the future after this and maybe that world was even more like a ‘suggestion’ or something, so the past didn’t change anyway, but it’s still a shock to Yata. In a way it helps him too though — realizing that maybe there really was nothing he could have done in that exact moment, that Fushimi was going to do things his way regardless, and that Yata can’t blame only himself for all those years they missed.