#At the same time you didn't have rest at all after graduating because of the outside pressure

[tapakah0]

[secretsofafangirll]

video star

summary: the time when Olivia appeared in a blind, deaf, mute baking video with the triplets and Matt couldn't keep his hands to himself.

warnings: touchiness in front of people/on camera, suggestive language, suggestive content, use of pet names.

a/n: the song doesn't have any significance, it just plays in o.c.'s headphones.

"Hey guys, welcome back to another Wednesday video," Nick blurted at the camera posed several feet in front of them, "Today we're doing another Deaf, Blind, Mute Baking Challenge."

"However," Chris butted in, sticking a mocking finger in the air, "We have a special guest for today's video," He drawled out and looked off to the side where I was standing. Matt was still leaning back against the counter and smiled at me.

"Come on out, sweetheart." Matt beckoned me over with a flick of his fingers and a nod of his head. I jumped into frame and smiled at the camera.

"Hi guys!" I waved enthusiastically and placed my hands on the counter in front of me.

"For those of you who don't know, Olivia is our best friend in the whole world and Matt's girlfriend. If you didn't know that, you've obviously never watched a video because she's in all of our vlogs and we never shut up about her." Nick summed up the basics for the viewers at home.

I've been friends with the triplets since my freshman year of high school. Chris and I instantly clicked one day in Math when our more extroverted personalities found their ways to one another. He introduced me to his two triplet brothers at lunch that same day, and the rest was history. We became inseparable and spent every second of every day together since. Things became interesting with Matt and me as we got older and grew into ourselves but we officially started dating after we graduated high school. We were always scared to announce our relationship to his fans because they can be volatile to their female friends, but once we did and they accepted that we loved each other, we've been so open and comfortable expressing that love physically on camera.

"So, how this is gonna work is..we're gonna draw out of a hat and three people are gonna be either blind, deaf, or mute and one person won't be able to use their hands. Let's hope that person isn't Olivia, because she's the only one of us that really can bake, like at all," Chris addressed the room and the camera.

"Dude, if I get fucking handcuffed, this is gonna be awful," I raised my brows and turned to Chris.

"Have a little faith, kid," Chris bumped my hip with his. I heard the car keys rattle on Matt's belt loop as he pressed himself away from the counter and came up behind me to wrap his arms around my neck. My hands subconsciously reached up to grip his muscular forearms.

"Alright, well, let's get the fuck on with it," Matt spoke.

"Okay, relax. We've been rolling for two fucking minutes." Nick stuck an accusatory hand up at Matt.

Nick reached around the counter for the hat and we all drew a card.

"Matt, you say yours first," Nick assigned.

"Mute," Matt chuckled, "Too easy."

"Deaf," I read aloud, "Yay! I just get to listen to music." I ran over to the couch and grabbed my headphones, working to connect them to my phone and find a playlist.

"Noo!," Chris whined, "Handcuffed."

"Loser", Nick teased.

"Which means that I am blind." Nick concluded, "Olivia wanted to bake something from scratch but that's a bit too hard for us, so we just got boxed brownies with, like, an extra cookie thing that we have to do too."

As Nick started to read off the contents of the box, I placed the headphones over my ears and pressed "shuffle" on Spotify. The first song to grace my ears was "B.Y.O.B" by System of a Down. A loud, scream-y nu-metal jam to deafen my sensitive ears. If I listened to anything too quiet, I'd be able to hear them. I watched as Matt tied the blindfold onto Nick and then Chris tied the bandana onto Matt. Matt then locked the handcuffs onto Chris' wrists behind his back.

I watched as the three of them tried to talk to each other, myself trying to read their lips and body language. I knew Matt well enough to know he was frustrated and Chris well enough to know he was giving Nick directions.

Quickly, when they started to struggle too much, they called me over. However, my eyes were closed as I mouthed the words to the song and I couldn't hear them.

"Everybody's going to the party have a real good time," I sang with Serj and wagged my finger to the Ooh.

What made me open my eyes was Matt pushing a hand against my lower back to guide me to the counter. The sudden jolt and touch startled me and I lurched forward, almost falling into the hard counter top face first. Matt's hand quickly shot and gripped my waist, pulling me back into him.

"Oh my God!" I yelped, my hands shooting out in front of myself to stop me before he did. He spun me around in his hands and I placed my extended hands on his chest, "Thank you!" I yelled, unaware of my volume. He just pressed a finger to my lips to tell me to be quieter. I whispered a faint apology in return.

I looked over to Chris who was probably spewing some bullshit at us about how cheesy we are, seeing as how his left cheek flexed up slightly in annoyance. Matt ushered me over to the counter where they handed me the box to try and fix what they already messed up. I took one look at the batter and knew they added too much oil.

"Okay," I started, "I think you guys just put too much oil, but it's not hard to fix. I just need a dehydrator like flour or cornstarch to dry out the oil." I turned around to grab the flour from the cabinets that I stock for them, because if I didn't they'd either starve or waste all of their money on eating out.

Due to my shorter stature, I had to stand on my tip toes and stretch the life out of my arms to reach the flour. Matt came up behind me and placed a hand on my side to tell me to relax and he reached up and grabbed it for me. I thanked him before turning around and continuing to mix the brownies, Matt's front just brushed my back the whole time as he watched over my shoulder, his hand resting gently on my hip.

Once I was done with the brownies, I needed to grab a bowl for the cookie part. I wasn't planning on making it, since it's supposed to be a challenge, but I still grabbed the equipment needed. I bent down in front of Matt to grab a smaller bowl from the cabinet below the island. When I leaned over, I didn't realize two things; one, how close I was to Matt and what he wouldn't be able to resist doing when he noticed the position we were in, two, how it would look on camera.

Both of Matt's hands found my hips when I unexpectedly stuck my ass into the air right in front of his dick and he subconsciously pressed himself a tiny bit further into me. Soon, his hand left my hip and it braced itself on the counter above my head so that I wouldn't hit the counter when I got back up.

"Okay, so you guys need to do this, because this is supposed to be your guys' challenge." I started clearly over the sound of Evanescence’s "Going Under”. I sang the words under my breath as I turned away to let them do what they needed to do. I hopped up onto the counter behind them and enjoyed my music as I watched them yell at each other.

At least I thought they were yelling at each other...

Turns out they were yelling at me to preheat the oven that I was sitting next to. I watched as Matt stepped closer to me. He placed his hands on my thighs and nodded to the oven dials. I quickly understood and turned the dial to 350 degrees. Matt's eyes darted all across my face and down my body that was only clothed in shorts and a tank top due to the intense Los Angeles heat. I knew exactly what look he was giving me and it was killing him that he couldn't kiss me.

"Later," I mouthed to him and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. He dropped his head to my shoulder and I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulder to squeeze him into me.

Soon after, the brownies had made it out of the oven safely and we were all stripped of our sense-depriving shackles. I was kind of disappointed to be done with the music, but I missed hearing my favorite boys talk.

"Okay, the brownies are done and they look fine," Nick began to the camera, "But we did fuck them up a little bit, so hopefully Olivia's fix was okay."

"Bro, she's literally a professional chef at this point, I'm sure they're still gonna be great," Chris said matter-of-factly. Nick began to cut the brownies, which they should've baked on parchment paper, and got a piece for all of us. He slid it in front of me and we all tried a bite. They still tasted great and they looked like boxes.

"Obviously, if it were up to me, we wouldn't have boxed anything, but for a boxed brownie mix," Matt came up and hugged me from behind and my hands fell to his that wrapped around me, "I would give this is a solid 8 out of 10." I said giving a thumbs up with the camera.

When they had all given their notes and feedback, they said goodbye to the camera and turned it off.

"You guys need to practice a little something called self-control, you horny fucks," Said Nick as he shook his head and took down the filming equipment. 

"Shut the fuck up, Nick," Matt spat as he pulled me closer, "Hi, my girl. D'you have fun?" He asked, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

I pulled back slightly and leaned up to kiss his lips, "Mhm. I always have fun filming with you guys." I smiled up at his stunning face.

"What'd you listen to?" He asked, pulling away from the hug to reach over and grab a cup from the cabinet, but keeping a hand on my waist. I turned to watch him as he got what he needed.

"I listened to System of a Down and Evanescence. I wish that, like, Nirvana or something came on though." I sighed and looked down for a moment before focusing my attention back on him.

"S'nice. I need to branch out, broaden my musical horizons," He said as he filled his cup with water from the fridge.

"And your kitchen horizons, because, my God, you guys suck at baking." I teased exasperatedely.

"Hey, watch yourself," He tutted, "They suck at baking, I, on the other hand, can whip up a good dessert."

"Alright, mister, I bought already-been-smoked salmon and tried to cook it anyway, Sturniolo." I accused, rolling my eyes jokingly.

"Oh, yeah? You want to play it that way?" He smiled smugly and slowly stepped toward me, setting his water down on the kitchen island.

I backed away in response and put my hands up in defense, "I'm not playing anything. M'just sayin' it how it is. S'not my fault your egos too big."

"You little-," He cut himself off and reached for me. A high-pitched yelp escaped my mouth as I dodged his hand and I backed away from him before running to his bedroom. I might be more agile than him, but his legs are much longer than mine. He caught up to me as I was trying to slam his door shut, and he stopped the door before I could close it. He swooped in quickly, picked me up, and tossed me onto the bed, kicking the door shut somewhere in between.

"Matt!" I giggled, as I sat up, bracing my hands behind me. He crawled onto the bed in front of me and shoved my chest back down.

"Those brownies might have been good," He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss right below my ear, "But I know you're gonna taste even better," He whispered into my ear and began to trail a path of open-mouthed kisses down my neck...

//

author's note: alright...how'd we like it? I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it, but I wanted to put something out. I liked the concept but I'm unsure of how it turned out. let me know what you guys think.

all the love, she <3

[rottiens]

⊹ synopsis. . as your beloved husband, it is his duty to indulge you in your fantasies. even in the unspoken ones. ⊹ tags. . (18+), husband nanami x reader with female anatomy (no pronouns used), petnames (honey), suggestive, dirty talk, finger sucking, reader has a hands kink. divider creds: cafekitsune.

Discreetly you glance back, your eyebrows raise unconsciously and your heart does that unusual throbbing that you hadn't experienced in a long time in Kento's presence, at least since you got married. You didn't want to admit that married life had tempered a bit the passion of the early years, when your hands couldn't be still standing next to each other, when you struggled to control your restless gaze and burning cheeks because you had to share the same team for a mission with your boyfriend. On the other hand, Kento was always more reserved, more serious. When asked if you were dating, he would simply say it was no one's business, although his cheekbones would change color every time someone mentioned your name.

After you left school behind, graduated as sorcerers and began accepting special grade missions, Kento and you talked about your relationship and how you saw yourselves together for much longer, starting a family, growing plants together and perhaps enjoying a quieter hobby that didn't involve exorcising curses. The two of you considered joining a book club or visiting the countryside on weekends.

Then one day he dropped one of his knees to the ground and handed you the beautiful ring that now decorates your finger, physically sealing a union to which you were both long committed: it has been exactly four years and three months since the wedding that only close people and family members attended. Since then you have kept a low profile, you had accepted married life and the everyday life it brought with it, although that didn't mean you had stopped loving Kento like the first day —on the contrary—, it meant seeing him every day and extinguishing a little of that adolescent spark that once burned you from inside every time you spent more than three days away from each other.

However, since a couple of weeks that spark had come back to life hungrier than ever and it's not until now that you find out why.

The sound of the paper sliding under your husband's fingers is soothing to you. Kento does this almost every night: reading a book, sometimes even reading aloud to you until you fall asleep. His glasses rest on the tip of his nose, his bare chest rises and falls like the waves of the sea, and he's wearing gray pajama pants. You've watched this scene so many nights that you've learned to recognize the meaning when his brow furrows or when he pouts as he immerses himself in rich reading. At this moment, as he sometimes does, he gently caresses your calf, sending shivers along your limb, generating fluttering heartbeats in your chest and between your legs.

Kento turns another page and calls out to you, "Honey," without looking away from the book. The timbre of his voice draws you to him. "Are you okay?" he asks again, now watching you with wrinkles in his forehead that denote concern.

"I'm fine," you assure him without maintaining eye contact. "Can't I enjoy the sight of my handsome husband while he reads?" The word "husband" draws a smile on his face, causing the corners of his mouth to turn up. You only need to utter that one word to have him completely captivated.

"I'm almost done," he announces as he dives back into reading.

You gulp. It's his hands, you suddenly recognize. The realization hits you in the forehead. There's something in the way his thumb runs across the page, something in how his open hand holds the back of the book, in his thumb tapping the cover and then bringing it to his mouth to play with his lip. It all gets your bloodstream pumping adrenaline.

The thought makes you run away from the scene like a teenager in love. At first you were in total denial, hands? How could you tell him that his hands turned you on, wouldn't that be weird? However as the days go by you find it harder to control it and make it go unnoticed, you find yourself looking at them when Kento takes your hand to go outside, when he holds the steering wheel of the car, you find yourself squeezing your legs when his fingers tighten around the watering can to water the plants and the worst of all, when he cooks.

Now, as he finishes decorating the cake, he was wearing those black jeans that were your favorite, along with a brown shirt that had the first two buttons open, leaving part of his collar exposed. The sleeves of the shirt were rolled up to his elbows. You couldn't help but stare at him in fascination, feeling the saliva pool in your mouth.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" The question sneaks in among your swarm of thoughts, and you stop yourself from watching him work to stare into his eyes that don't look at you.

"I know," you reply simply, which elicits a purr of approval from him.

"Want to try?" He abruptly changes the subject, but still, encouraged, you nod your head. With his index finger and thumb, Kento pinches a small piece of cake and brings it up to your mouth. You stretch your neck to catch his fingers, and the taste of vanilla and cream glides over your tongue. Even after swallowing Kento doesn't withdraw his fingers, and you don't move either.

The playful thumb, still with traces of cream, reaches just beyond your lips to meet your tongue. Your eyes widen as red alarms go off in your mind and your thighs press against each other.

"My hands, hm?" it catches you in mid-act, unable to move, your body turning to stone in the middle of the kitchen. "What's so special about them?"

"I-I…"

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Kento purrs as he pushes a little further, the pad of his thumb massaging your tongue in small circles spreading the sweet taste on it. "Suck it, I know this is what's been filling your mind." And you do, closing your eyes at his command, wrapping your fingers around his wrist as Kento begins to fuck your mouth. "I can't believe you didn't comment to me about this little kink of yours, it offends me even." You groan, unable to look him in the eye, succumbed to the feeling of fighting for your dignity or surrendering to pleasure. "Maybe you need me massaging your thighs, maybe you want them around your neck… playing with your tits or maybe I need to make you watch my thick fingers go in and out of you, my thick veins standing out in my hands as I pump my fingers inside that wet pussy." You whimper, Kento laughs. "I guess I'll have to cancel my dinner tonight, I need to get each and every thought you've had with my hands out of that pretty head of yours while you comment on what it is you like so much about them."

[strangersteddierthings]

Sequel to Good People - The fic in wherein Wayne doesn't like Steve and overheard a conversation he shouldn't have. Here's the aftermath of that :3

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

-

Wayne had stayed in his bedroom long after he heard the boys leave. Eddie had knocked on his door to let him know he'd be staying at Steve's and to not expect him back until late tomorrow, a courtesy he'd never shown until after he'd been the victim of a manhunt back in spring. Wayne never asked him to do that but he thinks Eddie picked up on how worried Wayne would get if he were gone for any amount of time.

Eddie's always been good at reading people when he bothers to pay attention to them. Maybe that should have been enough reason for him to give pause to his dislike of the Harrington boy, instead of needing to overhear the boy crying about how he thinks there's something rotten deep within him that only Wayne can sense.

He'd been so sure he knew what kind of person Steve Harrington was. Eddie had been hung up on boys just like him pert-near his whole life, Wayne thinks, and it's never ended differently.

It's a Tuesday night and his friends usually gather at the bar on Friday nights, but Wayne needs to get out of the trailer to think. A beer might help. So, he grabs his keys and heads out.

He's been a regular at this bar since before he was even old enough to drink. Used to come with his pa, may he rest in peace, just to get out of the house. He's been a patron longer than any of the staff have worked there, he realizes.

"Hello Linda," Wayne greets as he takes a seat at the bar instead of at his usual table. He'd done a cursory glace when he came in and confirmed none of his drinking buddies were in before choosing the bar.

"This isn't your usual day," Linda says, leaning a hip on the counter, "but it's always a pleasure to see you."

"I got some thinkin' to do," Wayne replies and Linda nods and moves away, returning soon with a bottle of his usual beer. She picks up the bottle open and removes the cap before setting the drink down in front of him.

"Need a sounding board, hun?" She asks.

Wayne does a quick survey of the bar again but it's pretty quiet so he returns his gave to Linda and says, "if you wouldn't mind too much hearin' about how an old man might have messed up."

Linda laughs. "You aren't even half a decade older than me, so you best not be sprouting that 'old man' nonsense around me, 'cause I am not some old lady."

"Terribly sorry, Linda. I'm just really feelin' like an old fool."

A small frown comes to Linda's face then. "Now what could you have possibly done?"

"Well, I guess I'm tryin' to figure out if I did mess up. Eddie's got a friend and I don't trust 'im. Thought I had good reason not to, but, well, I overheard somethin' I wasn't supposed ta and now I'm not sure."

Linda hums, "hmm, that doesn't sound like you, judging someone unrightly. You are usually a good read about people."

"I'll admit, I haven't bothered to spend enough time with the boy to, uhh, judge him."

"Wayne Munson," Linda scolds, "you best not be telling me you judged that boy because of other people."

Judging by Linda's raising brow line, he thinks his guilt must be clear on his face. "You know Eddie, and how people have treated him. And with what he just went through- I just want 'im safe. Sure, his new friend graduated last year, but he was on the basketball team his whole career. And I'm jus' supposed ta believe this one boy didn't side with the group who started the manhunt?"

"Unless you've got evidence otherwise, yes," Linda says, brows furrowed.

Wayne sighs. "I ain't got proof. I got a lot of people sayin' he's good, actually. But it's the Harrington boy. The same boy Eddie would come home and complain 'bout. Harrington, Hagan, Hargrove, though I shouldn't speak ill of the dead. All them boys treatin' Eddie like he wasn't worth nothin' until they wanted somethin' form him."

Linda's mouth is almost a perfectly straight line with how much she's pursed her lips the more he talks, but she doesn't interrupt and no customer calls for her, so he continues.

"And you know what Richard Harrington was like. I know y'all only shared one school year together, but Janice wasn't any better, and she was your year, wasn't she?" Linda gives him one nod in response. "That boy's a product of them. I- You can't fault me for thinkin' differently."

"So, when do you expect Eddie to end up in prison?"

The question throws Wayne and fills him with anger at the same time. "Now, Linda, I ain't likin' what you are implyin'."

"I ain't implyin' nothing," she says, using the same tone with him that he did with her. "I'm applying your logic. Eddie's a product of his parents, ain't he? Al's in prison, and his mama's long gone, bless her soul. And since Eddie ain't sick, last I heard, he must be following after his daddy."

The anger leaves him then, and all he's left with is shame. "Point made. And if I'm bein' fully honest with ya, I don't even need ya to defend that boy. That thing I overheard. That what's eatin' at me. He called me good people."

Linda softens, shoulders dropping, "you are good people, hun."

"That boy told my Eddie that I'm 'good people', and that his parents are bad ones, and I. I don't know what to do about that."

"He thinks his own parents are bad?"

Wayne nods, "is what he said. Thinks I can somehow sense he's also rotten just by association."

"There's nothing to it, then," Linda says, like they've already talked out the tangled mess that is Wayne's thoughts on Steve Harrington and have reached a conclusion. Well, perhaps Linda already has. She's always been bright, and she's usually right. "You, Wayne Robert Munson, need to apologize to that boy. The guilt and shame's gonna put you into your cups otherwise."

Wayne nods slowly, though he isn't even sure if he agrees or is just acknowledging what she said before he takes a long pull from his bottle before lowering both his arms to rest on the counter as he replies, "You're right as usual, Linda my dear. I just gotta let go of the fact he's Richard Harrington's son and try and see just Steve."

"Damn right. Eddie might be Al's by birth, but you raised him and he turned out alright. Maybe Steve got the same treatment. Had his own Wayne around to raise him right."

There might be a bit of truth to that. He's heard enough talk about Steve Harrington over the years to think that. One of his drinking buddies used to be Jim Hopper. He's heard about the amount of parties he'd had to go shut down at the Harrington's house, with no parents to be seen. (Always Jim's biggest gripe back then. "Where's this kids goddamn parents!?) Wayne always assumed their kid just took advantage every time his parents were gone, but maybe it's the opposite. Maybe they were always gone, and Steve had parties to not be alone in his house.

Linda's right. There is nothing to it. He needs to talk to Steve, properly apologize, and go from there.

"It ain't an easy thing, admittin' you might be wrong," Wayne sighs.

Linda reaches across the counter and places a hand on Wayne's arm just below his wrist. Wayne looks up from where he'd ended up staring at his bottle, making eye contact with her. "If your boy is friends with this boy, it's for a reason. Just give him a chance. You are one of the good ones, but even we can have a lapse in judgment now and then. Doesn't make you bad, makes you human."

"Ain't no one perfect but the good Lord," Wayne says and Linda nods in agreement.

"Alright. I'll leave you to your beer and your thoughts for now, but you best keep me updated on your situation. I wanna know how it goes," Linda retracts her hand and heads down the counter to check on the few other people sitting about nursing drinks.

Wayne sits in his thoughts more than he drinks, so by the time he's done with the beer it's warm but that's fine. He will talk to the Harrington kid, but he wants to talk to Eddie first. He owes his nephew that much, and he does recall Eddie saying something to the effect of 'he'll come around' to Steve, and Wayne wants to tell Eddie he'll try.

Also he doesn't want to just corner the boy after he's been somewhat intimidating intentionally. He's going to get Eddie to ask if Steve'll talk to him.

True to his word, Eddie returns home late the next day. The clock says it's almost 6 when Eddie finally comes through the front door. If he's surprised to see Wayne awake, he doesn't show it. He does work the graveyard shift, and he's got a shift at 10 tonight, usually wakes up two hours before his shift. He'd wanted to make sure he caught Eddie, though, so he's been up since three.

"Eddie, you got a minute?" Wayne says.

"Sure. What's up?" Eddie says as he pulls off his jacket, depositing it on the nearest surface before plopping sideways on the couch so he's facing Wayne.

"I gotta come clean. I overheard some of what you and Steve were talkin' about," Wayne says, because he's a man of his word and he's always been good at doing the hard thing if it also turns out to be the right thing. He's got to be honest with Eddie, so he can be honest with himself. "Heard Harr- Steve talkin' 'bout how he thinks I'm a good person, and his parents aren't."

Eddie's quiet for a moment, blinking owlishly back at him while he thinks. "Oh. Umm. Sorry. I just- I think this is the first time I've heard you say Steve's name."

"Not the part I thought you'd focus on," Wayne huffs a laugh, "but I owe your boy an apology and I was hopin' you could help me make it happen."

"My boy- what is happening," Eddie drops his voice to whisper the question to himself.

"What's happening is I'm doin' the thing I always told you ta do. Taking accountability and fixin' my mistake."

"Oh. Oh!" Eddie narrows his eyes at Wayne, "you've made an ass out of me. All those times I assured Steve you were just being standoffish and you were- what were you doing?"

"Intentionally keepin' the boy at a distance 'cause I thought he was gonna hurt you. I sure as hell ain't been friendly. I been judging him because I knew his parents, thinkin' about how an apple don't fall far from the tree," Wayne stops, giving pause to see if Eddie will speak but he isn't. He's just staring at Wayne like he's a puzzle. "It was brought to my attention that it's mighty unfair to judge someone 'cause of how their parents act."

Eddie's brow furrows and his lips purse. It makes him think of Linda. She'd made the exact same face. "I- Jesus fuck this is weird, but I. I think I'm mad at you. Disappointed."

Eddie doesn't say it with an angry tone, and his face still looks more puzzled than mad, but the sentence feels like a kick to the chest anyway. Eddie and he have never been mad at each other, not in the eight years Eddie's lived here with him. They've been worried and scared for each other that, or mad at someone or something else that they take out on each other, but never mad at each other.

"You've every right to be."

Eddie stands from the couch, paces down the hallway, and Wayne thinks this might be the end of any conversation tonight, but instead Eddie comes storming back up the hall. "So, what, did you take me in expecting me to be my dad!?"

"No. He mighta contributed to your birth, but we both know that man ain't nurtured you a day in his life."

"Yeah, well, Steve's parents didn't raise him either, so all this has been bullshit! You made Steve think he's, he's broken and a bad person! And," Eddie's eyes are wet and he's angry but also about to cry. Wayne hasn't seen him like this in a long time. Not since the day they learned Al was in prison, fifteen years with a chance for parole if he's on his best behavior. Eddie had been so angry, and sad, and hurt by the news. Eddie's like that now, worked up so much he's repeating himself as he hiccups his words out around the lump in this throat, "And, and you made me help him feel that way! Because I didn't take him serious when he said, said you didn't like him! I thought you were being, being a dad, all fake gruff to intimidate the guy I like but it's- you were- FUCK!"

Wayne lets him yell. He deserves it, and Eddie needs it. Eddie's not saying anything untrue. He takes in what Eddie is yelling at him; Steve's parents didn't raise him, and how Wayne's cold shoulder must have added to whatever else Steve has going on in his life.

"I, I h-held him while he b-bawled into my shirt last night! He, he thinks- and you, you didn't even trust me! T-trust my own j-judgment of, of Steve! I, I need- I can't-" Eddie doesn't finish the sentence. He turns on his heel and storms back down the hall, the slamming of his door finalizing this conversation.

To say that Wayne feels terrible is inadequate. He's hurt his boy, and he's hurt his boy's boy, and he's got no one to blame but himself.

Now he's got two apologies to make.

I tried to tag as many people as I could remember that expressed interest in a follow up fic. I am SO sorry if I missed you. Please let me know if you want to be tagged in the final part. I will only be tagging people who ask to be tagged going forward 'cause it's a lot of people to remember and my memory is garbage.

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @unclewaynemunson @itsthestrangestthings @emofratboy @devondespresso @finntheehumaneater @loopholesinmydreams @yourmom-isgay @wrenisflying @emsgoodthinkin @messrs-weasley @madigoround @jackiemonroe5512 @gutterflower77 @zerokrox-blog @eriquin @samyuck @lunarmaruna @mugloversonly @kaij-basil-lionelli88

[delusional-day-dreamer]

paige x olympian gymnast hcs!

‣ paige bueckers x olympic gymnast reader!

‣‣ synopsis: gymnastics has always been your entire life, and your dedication truly paid off when you made team usa for the 2016 rio olympics, but what happens after your injury while in the running for the 2020 tokyo olympics? #uneditedfornow

‣‣‣ a/n: just a few headcannons i have in mind for this story, if i were to make this a full blown series it MIGHT be a wattpad story with an oc or just a full tumblr series because of how long it would be... 👀

your life leading up to and including the 2016 rio olympics:

you've been doing gymnastics since you were three years old

at the age of thirteen your parents switched you to online school so you could train full time, but during this process it set you back a year, making your graduation year 2020 (same as Paige)

at the age of just fifteen you qualified for the rio olympics (meaning you were born in 2001)

your roommate that year was simone biles, and you competed at the olympics, taking home two golds (all around team and beam) and one silver (beam).

following the olympics, you became very popular for your skill at such a young age, leading you to signing many brand deals, sponsorships, photoshoots, etc.

it just so happens that your popularity reaches a certain basketball player, miss paige bueckers. in her slam interview in 2019, when asked about an athlete she admires outside of basketball, she says you. you have no idea who she is, but dm her regardless thanking her for her kind words. this is the only interaction you two have until uconn.

you continued online school for the rest of highschool, and throughout the next three years you received thirty recruitment offers out of the sixty-two schools that had a women's college gymnastics team.

your dream school had always been the University of Connecticut, but their gymnastics team didn't impress you throughout the recruitment process.

your graduation year is 2020, which happens to be the same year you got injured, right before choosing a college to commit to.

injury-related; 2020-2021:

in february of 2020, you got into a car crash while driving home from a late night practice.

you tore your left acl, dislocated your right shoulder, fractured your left collarbone, had a concussion, and suffered a left femoral fracture (ouchies i know)

thankfully you were mostly okay, but the accident completely put you out of the running for the 2020 (now moved to 2021 due to the pandemic) olympics, and doctors told you it would take at least two years to fully rehabilitate before you could even beginning training for competitions again.

your left leg had quite a few complications with the acl tear and the femoral fracture, and you had four surgeries in total on the leg.

during this time, you decided that since you couldn't compete in gymnastics, you might as well commit to the college of your student-life dreams, the university of connecticut.

UConn Era!!:

you commit to uconn for your undergrad in the sports management program, since you couldn't compete, you still wanted to remain in the athletic world.

your freshman year classes (2020-2021) was fully online due to your injuries and the pandemic, but it just so happens that you're placed as an intern with the women's basketball team for your sports management program.

you meet the team before the school year starts, and it just so happens that paige bueckers has remained a huge fan of yours.

the only reason the team recognized you immediately before you were even introduced is because of how much she has fangirled over you

you get your own apartment at uconn due to the program and your status (okay olympic privilege), which meant the team loved to hang out at your giant, well-furnished place.

you become extremely close with the team, and your first two years of rehabilitation seem to go well. it also happens that in your sophomore year, your best friend paige also fractures her meniscus, so the two of you are the resident cripples of the team!

paige has always had a huge fangirl crush on you, but over the years of you being friends, it seems those feelings develop into a little bit more...

one night while you were having a sleepover with her during her acl recovery she confesses, and the two of you start dating on the very down low

during your junior year is also when you are fully cleared to start re-training and you start getting back into gymnastics with a new coach (idk who yet!)

while balancing school and your duties with the wbb team, you start to train only four days a week, slowly getting back old skills on all four events.

you start competing in the 2023-24 season (i believe that’s how it’s measured?) and qualify for the 2024 olympics at the 2024 Xfinity U.S Gymnastics Championship

it’s safe to say your girlfriend and the entire wbb team were your biggest supporters apart from your family

Actual Olympics:

i can see you being roommates with Hezley Rivera, since she reminds you so much of yourself and you’re able to form a connection because of that.

Paige is unfortunately not able to make it to the first half of the Olympics, but she is your biggest supporter from home, constantly posting and hyping you up.

While competing, you definitely wear jewelry that she gifted you for good luck, and your hair has two braids going up into your bun, just to keep a piece of your girl close to you. Maybe even a purple ribbon braided into your hair at some point?

You also definitely took half of her closet of hoodies with you so that you could wear them and have her scent with you at night

the entire uconn wbb team, both current and players from your earlier college years, show support for you on social media, but paige’s is a little.. different than theirs

while all the girls post you on their stories or tweeting about you as, so proud of our husky 💙🐺, that’s my our uconn girly!!, etc. Paige’s are a little more special, hinting at your relationship, ex: so proud of my girl 🫶🫶

there were rumors about you and paige circulating since your freshman year, but you never bothered addressing them, and this only fueled them further.

You definitely text Paige as much as possible during meal times, facetiming at night, sending selfies all the time, etc.

The other girls definitely make fun of you if they overhear you on the phone with her, mocking you since you call each other baby as a term of endearment. They also make a tiktok cut together of a bunch of clips, basically every single time you were texting or atp with paige. the tiktok has over 50 clips!

“can you pass me that y/n?” suni asked you

“yea sure, here” you passed her the makeup brush

“thanks, baby,” she teased, making you blush

After the olympic athlete who ran straight to his girlfriend after breaking the Olympic record, I can definitely see Paige flying out to surprise you for a week or so in Paris.

Her flying out to come visit is when you guys actually hard launch, posting pictures of you at dinner with the captions, “my girl is finally here” or “yk i had to come cheer my girl on in person”

a/n: this is #uneditedfornow but that’s all i have for now yall! idk when i’m gonna make this a series but i have so many ideas for it i just might have to, but i also have two other unfinished series rn so… 😓😓

[moviecritc]

Hi I don't know if you write about Charles and Alexandra, but what about something based in obsessed by olivia rodrigo, in a more sapphic way, maybe reader and alex can make out or something. also if you can mix it with smau would be super cool 💕

obsessed ⋆ charles leclerc, alexandra saint mleux

pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader (various fc) x alexandra saint mleux

warnings: some bad words for the three of them (it was for the sake of the plot, nothing to harsh)

a/n: i made her a singer to add more drama. also i loooved this idea, i've been wanting to write something like this so much, thanks for requesting it <33

Remember that requests are open 💕💕

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

yourusername just posted!

liked by sabrinacarpenter, charlesleclerc and 145,824 others

yourusername some visuals from the Paris music video 💜🩷💙

view all comments

user1 i felt so seen in the first verses of the song, i'm also a sucker for gossip

charlesleclerc 💜😍

user2 so dry

user3 what is someone so cool like yn dating someone so boring and simple like charles

user4 graduated in cuntology with a master in slayfication and cum laude in mother is mothering 101

sabrinacarpenter princess of glittery gel pen songs 💜💜💜💜

user5 IM SO IN LOVE

user5 that i might stop breathing

user6 yn using paris as a joke bc charles is monegasque is beyond cuteness

user7 GOALS.

user8 imagine having YN LN as a gf and NOT POSTING HER leclerc you better watch out

user9 it's giving taylor and joe

user10 THE HEARTSSS never beating bi allegations

When Y/N saw the Instagram notification, curiosity got the better of her. Just curiosity. She and Charles had been dating for almost six months, and this was the girl he had been with before her, so she simply wanted to know who she was. She scrolled through her posts, seeing the life she had after breaking up with Charles; she worked at a museum in Monaco and at the same time was an influencer.

Looking at her photos, she realized she was very beautiful. Very, very beautiful. Her hair was healthy, long, and a gorgeous dark brown, her body was perfect, the clothes fit her great, and she had a very sweet voice. She wondered why Charles had ended things with Alexandra.

Then, as she scrolled through her highlighted stories, she accidentally liked one. Y/N immediately threw her phone down. "Shit," she said, grimacing. "Shit, shit, shit." She picked up the phone again and saw the red heart on a photo of Alexandra in a bikini with a beautiful sunset in the background. Y/N stared at the photo for a moment and then removed the like.

She ran her hands over her face, feeling like an idiot. Alexandra would still see the notification, then she would see that Y/N had removed the like, and she would probably think she was weird. Or worse, she could message Charles, asking what his girlfriend was doing stalking her profile.

Charles was at the Grand Prix of Canada at that moment, she was in Monaco. The time difference was huge, and she wasn't going to bother him with this nonsense. So she decided to message Alexandra directly.

Y/N couldn't stop thinking about Alexandra for the rest of the day. She found herself a couple of times staring at her pictures, she knew that Alex lived in Monaco and that they could bump into each other anytime. That idea felt amazing. She seemed like a gorgeous person, and the little chit chat they had felt really comfortable, even when Alex was her boyfriend's ex.

Y/N didn't mention any of this to Charles, he probably just make a big deal of it and they would have a discussion. And she was too lazy to think about arguments.

So she wrote a song. For the nexts days she focused on the lyrics and when Y/N handed the papers to her producer, they loved it. As soon as they could they recorded the song.

When Charles came back from the race, he found Y/N staying after midnight in the studio so she could finish the song. And he didn't complaint, because he really thought the song was about him.

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yourusername 'obsessed' is now yours, with the mv starring @alexademie 🍒🍸💎

the comments have been restricted

alexademie so proud of this project 🤧💙

sabrinacarpenter MISS? i was not expecting this at all and it was so so good 😩😩

gracieabrams QUEEN. in capitals and screaming.

chappelroan so cunty, so hot, so sapphic.

laufey ok now IM obsessed with YOU.

She didn't even think it was a bad idea until she saw her. They had decided to meet at a private club in Monaco; Alex wore a black satin dress that fit her extremely well, with her hair loose as she had seen so often in photos and a sparkling gaze. Y/N felt stupid for only wearing a white top and jeans.

"You showed up," Alexandra said with a smirk.

"You thought I wouldn't come?" she asked, matching her expression. Alexandra lowered her head, saying nothing and tucking her hair behind her ear. Y/N went to the bar and ordered a round of shots, although she didn't need to get drunk to do what she was about to do.

She drank one and then watched as Alexandra imitated her.

"Where did you leave Charles?" Alexandra asked, pulling her to a sofa area. The club wasn't very crowded, but more people would start arriving soon.

Y/N clicked her tongue. "Charles is the last person I want to talk about right now, honestly."

"You're right," Alexandra agreed as she nodded. "Let's talk about the song, then."

Y/N looked at her with a silly smile, trying very hard not to feel embarrassed. Although she knew she had nothing to be embarrassed about, she could see from Alex's expression that she had liked the song.

"What did you think?" she asked, sipping her cocktail.

"I loved it. I never thought someone would write songs about me," she lowered her gaze a little and then Y/N noticed how she had the tip of her heel circling around her foot.

"Did Charles ever dedicate any of his piano songs to you?" Y/N asked, furrowing her brow a little.

"Charles never even dedicated time to me," Alexandra looked away a bit.

Y/N nodded, perfectly understanding what Alexandra was talking about. Charles was too focused on his career, and unless you asked him, he could completely ignore you for weeks or change plans you had been planning for months because he had to train. That was the kind of person Charles was. At first, it had been a dream, accompanying him to his races and spending time with him, but when you scheduled a tour to be able to attend most of his races and he didn't show up at almost any of your concerts… It affected you.

"Men," Y/N said simply, rolling her eyes.

"Exactly! They're unbelievable, in the worst sense of the word," Alex spoke, slightly laughing.

They fell silent for a few moments, not breaking eye contact. The music had been turned up, and they were bathed in purple and green lights, moving around the room. Alexandra almost glowed for Y/N's eyes; under that lighting, everything seemed unreal. She leaned toward her, but didn't make the final move, wanting Alex to take that step.

Alexandra smiled mischievously and pressed their lips together. It was a calm kiss, not too long but their lips touched enough to explore them calmly, and for Y/N to remember the slight scent of red licorice from Alex's cologne.

As they separated, Alexandra got as close as possible to Y/N, resting her head on her shoulder. "Are you drunk?" Y/N questioned, fearing for a moment that it was all an act of alcohol.

"No," she denied vehemently.

Y/N didn't think much more about it, discreetly grabbed her phone to text Charles that it was best for them to end their relationship. She and Alexandra kissed a couple more times that night.

Five months later

alexandrasaintmleux just posted a story!

[caption 1: opening night 🍒 @yourusername] [caption 2: best view 💖]

[dcxdpdabbles]

DC X DP Fic idea: Retired-Rouge.

Danny gets into making teddy bears. He didn't start that way; honestly, he was mostly trying to fix Bearbert Einstein after his mom accidentally burnt him with a misfired ray gun.

Jazz had broken down into tears, and it had ripped apart his heart and his core to see her so distressed. He went to the local- and only- fabric store in Amity Park to find materials and try to repair his sister's beloved teddy bear when his mom's attempts to fix the bear only made him look worse.

Just his luck that the only fabric shop for miles around was Weston Fabrics and that the person manning the cashier was Wes himself. The other boy had nearly thrown him out when Danny walked in, but thankfully his older brother Kyle had talked Wes down and helped Danny find fabrics for Bearbert.

Surprisingly, Wes had even helped him set up one of their sewing stations to get started on Bearbert.

The strange part was when Danny turned the machine on and found his hands moving independently. As if he had been doing it for years, he expertly put together the bear and even went through the other fabrics to make him new outfits. Wes had watched the whole time, raising a brow when Danny got up to pay.

"Thought you didn't know how to sew?"

"I thought so too. Must be a ghost thing." Danny replied then smirked as the redhead glared.

"A ghost thing?" Wes all but sneers. He still trying to expose Danny as Phantom and had yet to get proof, even with Danny teasing him in the open. As it were, Kyle, who was unpacking new needles rolled his eyes behind the red hair teenager.

"Yeah, since I have a protection core as Phantom, it sometimes transfers into my human side. Do you know how teddy bears guard children at night against bad dreams? Same thing"

Wes pauses, then slowly blinks; he whispers with a small baffled smile, "That's kind of adorable. A teddy bear to keep you safe through the night."

And Danny? He didn't mean to, but he found Wes sort of hot at that moment. Not the Wow, that guy is a celebrity hot but a Be careful who you call ugly in middle school because Puberty made them delicious over the summer break hot.

He will admit that he returned to Weston Fabrics to flirt more with Wes and made so many teddy bears as a disguise. The good news was that all his works were a hit, and even some kids at school started asking for special commissions when word got around about the special Nightmerica teddy bear he made for Sam's birthday.

He makes money, gets a boyfriend, and when he donates the teddy bears to a local hospital, he discovers a new power. Through items he made himself, Danny can send waves of comforting energy to the people around the item, like a miniature zen distributor. The patients that have his toys start to show greater rest from both nightmares and lower anxiety, depression, and general sadness.

He lets Wes name this power, which later becomes the name of his teddy bear business- Phantom Relief. After dating for two years and graduating, both boys agree the spark had been lost but remain good friends. Danny takes his thriving teddy bear-making skills to his new college in Gotham while Wes leaves for Star City.

In Gotham is where things get....stranger. See, Danny knows someone new to the city will never truly understand a city's problems. But the rapid amount of homeless kids is so shocking he starts making clothes and blankets to try and give them out because they shouldn't be out there freezing like that! He even tries passing along some teddy bears to them, hoping to soothe their pain with some Zen waves.

The key word is tries.

Gotham kids do not trust or like free handouts. Danny burst into tears when a thirteen-year-old asked if he wanted the kid to use his hand or mouth in exchange for the new blanket. The street kid seemed surprised when Danny was horrified by the question. No one else found it strange, the kid said, wrapped in a Superman blanket that Danny made only a day before, it's just how things are done around here.

The worst part is the homeless thirteen-year-old is right. Everywhere he looks, Danny finds more people needing protection- physically, emotionally, and mentally. Gotham is just filled with people suffering. He couldn't keep up. It's tearing him apart trying to help everyone.

His core feels like it will burst from all the overloaded cries of help it can pick up. One night Danny can't take it anymore, so he shifts into Phantom and flies out to the old Drake manner, abandoned since Janet Drake's murder, where the cries are muffled, and dials Wes' number with shaking hands.

His ex picks up listens to his sobs and tells him "You can't save people who don't want to be saved. But you can try to reach them in a way they understand."

It's precisely what he needs to hear.

Ancients, but he misses the man sometimes. Why did Danny ever let Wes Weston go? Well, as they say, Right person, wrong time. Maybe that was why.

So Danny decided the only way to get to Gotham was to be like Gotham. And who were the people that dramatically changed the city with every random plot? With every random heist?

Gotham Rogues.

So all Phantom had to do was become one, which shouldn't be too hard since people in Amity Park still debated if he was good or not years later. He fixes up his Phantom suit to something more Gotham villain, keeping the colors but removing the jumpsuit and adding a suit and vest alongside a mask and two giant needles.

He appears in Crime Alley- because that's where the most cries come from- and just challenges everything and everyone to take the area from him. He fights off so many gangs- even Red Hood, who puts up a great fight- but after the dust settles, he now runs the place.

He then starts- fixing the place. Starts sending out clothes for the homeless, starts fixing up buildings, gives Phantom Reflief out-teddy bears to kids, fake emulates to adults, starts sending the gang kids back to school, forces landlords to lower the housing, and illegally makes everyone get along.

He spreads his tyranny to the rest of the city, fighting the good and bad sides of the law. The bats give him one hell of a challenge, but Danny beat the Ghost King when he was an untrained brat. This is nothing. Batman gets better with every fight, and so do his associates.

Things look good until the Joker tries him too much when the clown somehow gets to Wes. Has the love of his life tied to a bomb with enough Joker Venom to fill half the city, and Danny sees red.

When he comes to, it's to Wes holding him in his arms, whispering reassurances, and Joker nothing but a smear on the ground. Danny can't live with what he's done; he runs away, shifts into his human side, and vows to never be Phantom again.

After four years of peace due to Phantom's hostile takeover, Gotham mourns the loss but doesn't fall into so much crime now that the ghost crime lord is gone. Danny thinks he's done his job and chooses to melt into the background. He opens a little shop for fabrics and custom-made teddy bears.

Wes finds him, agrees to try and rekindle their love, and a year later agrees to the marriage.

All is well until seventeen-year-old Tim Drake strolls into his fabric shop. Clutching a superboy teddy bear, he gave a shivering fourteen-year-old the first week as Phantom Gotham Villain with a stern look in his eye.

"Phantom- I need you to help me find Batman, who is lost in time, or I will expose your secret identity to the rest of Gotham."

Well, shit.

[venjras]

FAMILY FRIEND - GOJO SATORU.

just a simple prompt because i was bored and had this idea in my head way too much lately. was thinking about making it a series, what do y’all think? ( wrote it in a rush, so excuse my grammar )

it's been a lifetime since you've started hearing about gojo, the family friend of endless qualities. but punctually there was never a chance to actually meet him, like a curse that brought both to diametrically different places whenever there was an opportunity for a possible clash. you heard about it at family dinners, during the update phone calls with your brother, there were even his t-shirts in the laundry basket every time you came home for spring breaks.

and it was about damn time, today was the day.

right now you were floating on the crystal clear surface of the pool water, enjoying the warm contrast that the sun's rays of that day of mid-august brought. with your eyes closed, you almost felt like you were levitating and as if everything around you was just the result of your imagination, so heavenly. the head inevitably went back to the night before, to the club where you were with your friends to celebrate the graduation. you had lost them after an hour from the arrival, they probably were with some guy and with the certainty that for that evening you weren’t going to see them again.

in fact, you found yourself alone, sitting at the bar counter turning the ice of your cocktail around with the deafening music that rumbled in your ears. a little puff came out of your lips, you didn't even realise the bulky presence next to you, imposing and massive, that would have no problem towering over your little frame. at some point you see the bartender replace your drink with a new one, gesture that makes you frown and finally get the first glance of that white haired boy and crystalline look that had long been resting on your face.

“i thought you'd use some company.” his deep voice resounded in your whole body, almost overcoming the loud speakers. your gaze slowly slid along his figure, muscular torso and perfectly fitted by a white shirt, unbuttoned and specially tighter to show the well-defined lines of his biceps, same for the jeans that left very little to no imagination. final touch given by that breathtaking face, well-marked jaw. he seemed almost sculpted by the gods and you were sure he knew. a wave of heat invaded the lower part of your body. you saw his lips hunch into a smile and that's where you realised you didn't answer him yet.

what happened in the next hour was too fast to even realise it, the last thing you knew was that you were locked between the wall and his body. his mouth was devouring yours, tongues looking for each other in a desperate dance, drinking you up completely. fingers pulling hard on his locks, legs wrapped around his waist, panties pulled to the side.

his cum already dripping down your shivering legs, what was his name again?

your nipples got hard and an annoying heat took possession of your lower belly at the mere memory, forced to go with your head under water. you had to recover, you didn't have time for these things. in less than an hour the family friend would arrive and finding you all frustrated was not the best idea. at the time you were only wearing a white bikini, you had just a couple of minutes to change into something more appropriate since, as much as that was your favourite piece, it was definitely too revealing.

and the heat too insistent, annoying, to the point that little by little it could have given you to the head. you came out of the water and pulled yourself up from the edge, too late to realise that two pairs of eyes were already looking at you. in particular one of them. “hey sis, have you met gojo yet?”

fuck, that's what his name was.

part two.

©️ venjras.

[sanguineterrain]

redamancy | steve harrington

Summary: redamancy (n.) - the act of loving someone who loves you back; a love returned in full // or, four times you kissed Steve Harrington, and one time he finally kissed you back.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings/tags: friends to lovers, 5+1 fic format, no use of y/n, FLUFF, PINING PINING, injured s4 steve, hospital setting, general vecna angst (eddie's alive bc i will never kill eddie in my fics), bed sharing, happy ending, and kissing. if that wasn't clear. :)

A/N: fun fact: this is the first time i've written a 5+1 fic! technically it's 4+1 but whatevs. if you enjoy this fic, please give it a reblog and support your local steve harrington tumblrina.

divider by firefly-graphics

i. the promise 

"Would you ever get married?" 

You open your eyes. The setting sun nearly blinds you through the windshield. Immediately, you stick out a hand to block it. 

You're still reclined all the way back in the passenger seat, because Steve's fancy schmancy BMW can do that. He frequently lectures you about doing it while he's driving. Have I taught you nothing? Road safety! 

"I mean, I guess so," you say. "If someone ever wants to put a ring on me."

You sit up and pull down the sun visor. Steve turns. His hair lightens in the summer, shades of reddish blond peeking through. He insists his hair has never been anything but brown, fiercely pledging his allegiance to brunettes. You coo at his highlights all the same. 

"I want to," he says after a minute. "I wanna get married." 

You're parked down the block from your house. You should've gotten out ten minutes ago, but there's never any rush when you're with Steve.

"The line to wed you will be out the door, champ," you say around a grin. 

"Hm. I dunno." He stretches in his seat. "Maybe if I was the same guy I was a few years ago." 

You wrinkle your nose. "I doubt that."

"But what can I really offer?" he continues. "I'm just some guy who can't get into college."

"That doesn't mean no one will marry you. Some people who go to college are dumber than dirt. They get married. College has nothing to do with it. You can go, if you really want to. One rejection doesn't say anything about you, Steve." 

"I guess."

You pull the lever on the side. The seat shoots up with a brrrap! It clicks as you straighten. 

"Where did all this come from, anyway?" you ask. 

Steve shrugs. "Just thinking."

"Dangerous."

He smiles. "I like to live on the edge."

"Contemplating marriage like the world's biggest sap. Definitely edgy."

Steve hums. His hands are in his lap. He picks at a cuticle, a habit he’s recently developed. You wonder why he’s so anxious. 

"Two people from our graduating class got married last week."

Your eyes widen. "You're kidding."

"Nope. Lisa Schell and Gary Brewer." 

"Wait, didn't she cheat on him?"

"Yeah, but he slept with her sister, so I guess they called it even."

You shake your head. "That's insane. They're literally babies, Steve. That's like Dustin getting married."

Steve scowls. "He's not allowed to get married before me." 

"Not even to his possibly fictional Suzie?" 

"Not even to her."

You stare at the freckles on Steve's face and how his frizz kind of looks like a halo in the light. You imagine the feel of his hair in your hands, the warmth of his scalp.

"I'd marry you," you say. 

Steve's eyebrows shoot up. 

"What?"

"Like, if you were in a pinch."

He looks at you sideways. You flatten, then scrunch your hands over your knees. Your tongue feels too big for your mouth. 

"I'm talking about spending the rest of my life with someone, you know. Not borrowing fifty bucks."

"Fifty bucks is a lot of money for some of us, Harrington."

"That’s probably how much Lisa's wedding dress cost."

"I hope she kept the receipt."

Silence descends. A soft breeze blows through your cracked window. You want to search Steve's glove box for gum, but you've just told him you'd marry him, so you can't do anything except think about the fact that those words came out of your mouth. 

"Are you…" Steve begins, then pauses. "Why did you say that?"

"Because you're worried, for some incomprehensible reason, that no one will marry you."

"I scoop ice cream for a living."

You level him with a look. 

"Steve. We're kids. Cut yourself some slack."

His eyes turn hollow. They've been doing that lately. You wish you knew why. 

"I don't really feel like a kid these days," he says. 

Something about the way Steve sounds makes you want to climb over the console and curl into him, cradle his head to your neck. Which is crazy. You guys don't do that. Steve isn't yours to do that with. 

"Let's make a pact," you say softly. 

He meets your eye. "A pact?"

"Mmhm. Let's say if both of us aren't married by… thirty, then we'll get married."

"Well, I don't want a pity marriage." 

You roll your eyes. "It's not a pity marriage, Steve."

"Thirty is so late! You really think I won't be married by then?" he asks. 

"No, I don't think that. I already said folks will be lined up to marry you," you say. 

"I can't wait till I'm thirty." 

"Or you'll turn into an old maid?" 

"Meh meh meh," he mocks without any heat. 

You purse your lips so you don't smile. "Fine. We'll split the difference. Twenty-four?"

Steve considers that. Really considers it. It suddenly occurs to you what you're promising and who you're promising it to. You wonder if you'll both forget about it. Or brush it off. Oh, what did we know? We were kids!

Except Steve doesn't feel like a kid. And maybe you don't either, as much as you wish you do. 

"Do you mean it?" he asks. 

"Of course I do."

"No, seriously." He's serious. "I mean it, so if you don't…"

"Steve, I said I mean it. I do."

"You'll marry me?"

"I will."

"Swear on it."

You hold out your right pinkie out, waiting. Steve hooks his finger over yours. Impulsively, you kiss your linked pinkies. To show that you really, truly mean it.

You try to picture it. What walking down the aisle to meet Steve at the altar would feel like. You wonder if he'd keep his hair long, like it is now. You like it long. Would he keep it long for you?

"Will you buy me a ring?" you ask. "If we get married, I mean."

"Of course I'd buy you a ring," Steve says. "I'd get you anything you wanted."

"Okay." Your heart hammers in your chest. "I'm gonna go home."

"Alright. Want me to pull up to the door?"

"No, it's fine. Walking is good for digestion. Those milkshakes were no joke."

Steve smiles. He has such a lovely smile. His Cupid's bow is shaped exactly like a heart. 

"Same time tomorrow? It's movie night." 

Right. Your movie night. A semi-regular occasion that includes you, Steve, Robin, and the kids, sometimes. You've watched at least a dozen movies this summer together. Only this time, you're watching a movie after promising to marry Steve. 

"Sounds good," you say. "Will you pick me up?"

"Always."

Another promise. You hadn't realized how many Steve makes to you. 

"'Kay. See you."

You get out. Steve waves as he pulls away from the curb. 

Your ring finger feels bare. You rub it, hoping the feeling will go away. 

ii. the wound 

The plastic chair has turned your legs numb. Your butt is about to follow. 

Can butts go numb? You're not sure. You'll find out soon, though. 

You rub your eyes. God, you need sleep. 

Across the room, you catch Joyce Byers' gaze. She smiles at you, though it's brittle. You try to smile back, feeling distinctly like you might break if you stretch your mouth too far. 

She looks away, and your not-smile falls. 

"They'll let us in soon," she says, like she knows. She does know. Better than you, certainly. 

The hospital smells cold. It smells like a place people go to die. 

Your heartbeat ratchets. You shouldn't think like that. 

"You don't understand," comes Dustin's voice. He's at the receptionist's desk, flanked by Mike and Lucas. Dustin's face is red and blotchy, near tears. 

"I need to see him. You won't let me see Eddie, so—" 

The receptionist rears back, like she can't believe three children are daring to speak to her. 

"Neither patient is cleared for visitors," she says icily. "Now, for the last time: have a seat."

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Joyce begin to stand, ready to herd the kids away. You beat her to it. Out of everyone in this room, you're probably the only person who has the strength to stand. 

"Guys, c'mon. It won't be long." 

They don't look at you. You don't take it personally. An hour earlier, you'd cornered Dustin and forced him to tell you what happened. What's been happening. 

So he did. And now you're here. 

You don't blame them for glaring at the prickly receptionist. But you know that won't do anything. It won't heal Steve quicker. And it won't make anybody feel better. 

"Hey, Dustin." You lay a hand on his shoulder. He looks at you like you're not Steve. You wish it was you in surgery instead. 

"Come sit," you say. 

"I need to see him," he tells you. 

"I know." Your throat tightens, threatening to trap your words altogether. You rush to get the rest out. "I do too. But this isn't going to make that happen faster. Come sit with me. Okay?"

"He'll be fine," Mike says quietly. "They don't wanna get sued by his asshole dad."

You nod, because yeah, good point. Quite possibly the first time Richard Harrington has brought anybody comfort. He's in Cancun, last you'd heard. You hope he chokes on a margarita. 

Dustin follows you. Mike and Lucas sit next to Joyce. The five of you wait. 

At some point, you fall asleep. When you wake up, it's to the contentious receptionist peering over you all. 

"Mr. Harrington is awake," she says primly. "You may see him now, young man."

Dustin flies out of the chair, Lucas and Mike at his heels. 

A part of you wants to go home, and you feel terrible for it. You feel terrible that Steve almost died, but you're the frightened one. You don't know if you can bear to see him tied to tubes and a heart monitor.

"Go on."

Joyce tracks you sleepily. Her hair is more knotted than before you fell asleep. She nods to the hallway. 

"Go see him."

You can’t voice every thought, every fear. I don’t know if I can see him like this.

“It’s good he won’t wake up alone,” she says.

“He’s got a family.” You wave your hand weakly. 

Joyce watches you for a moment. Then she gets up.

"Yes, he does." 

She holds out her hand. 

You don’t know Joyce Byers very well. This is probably the longest conversation you’ve had with her. You realize, then, that you're wrong—you’re not the one who’s strong enough to stand.

“Let’s go see him,” she says. "All of his loved ones should be there." 

God, are you really that obvious? 

You take her hand, and the two of you go down the hall.

Steve is nearly unrecognizable in the hospital bed. The kids are speaking to him, unusually quiet. They look up when you enter. 

Steve’s eyes lock with yours. 

“Hey,” is all you say.

“Hi,” he says, voice rough with disuse and getting choked by what Dustin had described as demon bats. 

“Boys, come on,” Joyce calls. “Let’s make a cafeteria stop.”

You see Dustin about to protest, but Lucas tugs his arm like he knows, and goddamn, you really are that obvious, aren’t you? 

You wait for the door to close behind you. Then you walk to Steve’s side. 

The gnarled ring of flesh around his neck makes you queasy. The rest of him isn’t much better, red and purple smeared across any skin that’s not covered by the chalky hospital gown.

You sit in the chair. It’s the same plastic kind as the ones in the waiting room, but this one doesn’t feel so hard.

“Robin called me,” you say.

Steve closes his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you’d better be.” Your voice cracks. “Can’t believe you went dimension-surfing without me.”

“You’re mad at me.”

Your breath is punched out of you. 

“No,” you say softly. “My God, Steve. I’m not mad at you.”

His hand creeps to the edge of the bed. His fingers are scraped.

You take his hand and lace your fingers together. He slow-blinks. He’ll probably fall asleep in the next half hour. 

“It’s okay if you are,” he whispers. “Mad, I mean. I’d be mad too.”

You know he wouldn’t be, though. You know Steve would forgive you in a heartbeat.

“I’m not mad,” you say, equally as quiet. “I just… I was scared." 

He nods. "I'm sorry for scaring you." 

You bow your head and close your eyes. When Robin had called, you'd run to the bathroom and coughed up stomach acid.

They say he’ll make it, she'd told you, and you'd realized with violent clarity that you love him. 

But Steve doesn't need that right now. So you bury it.

You lean in and bring Steve's knuckles to your lips, taking care not to jostle him.

His eyes widen. Part of you hopes he won’t remember this conversation.

"Don't do that again," you say. “Not without me.”

"Okay,” he whispers. “I won't." 

You wait until he falls asleep, hand in his. 

iii. the brand

“There’s no way I’m getting in your death van, Munson!” Robin whines.

“Death van is an exaggeration, Buckley. If anything, it’s a life van. I’m still here, aren’t I?” Eddie asks.

“Definitely not because of that heap of metal,” Steve murmurs to you. You snicker.

It’s nearly dark, but a summer dark, where it doesn’t actually turn to night until well after nine PM. The top two buttons of Steve’s dress shirt are undone, and you can’t stop staring. It’s embarrassing, really. You’d nearly missed Eddie’s walk across the stage because of that damned triangle of tanned skin and dark chest hair.

“Why can’t we take the station wagon?” Robin asks. 

“I think Nancy already left,” you say. “Sorry, Rob.” 

“And I’ve put my car jacking days behind me,” Eddie announces, flinging his arms out. “So my van it shall be!”

Robin whips her head around to glare at Steve. 

“This is your fault,” she accuses scathingly.

“Me?!”

“You just had to go and get a flat tire yesterday.”

“Yeah, Steve,” you add cheekily. “Why couldn’t you have foreseen the dreaded timeline where Eddie drives?”

“Et tu?” Eddie asks. “I’m hurt. I’m a great driver, y’know. Better than Steve, some have told me.”

“Dustin only told you that ‘cause you were high on morphine and about to burst into tears,” Robin says.

As they bicker, Steve draws closer, so your arms brush. You close the distance, crowding him.

“Y’okay?” he asks quietly.

“Yes,” you say, startled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just checking.”

“Are you okay?”

He turns to you. He looks like he’s searching for something. You don’t know what.

“Yeah,” Steve says after a minute. “I am. Better than, actually.”

“‘Cause I’m here, right?” you ask with a gooey grin.

“Yeah. ‘Cause you’re here.”

He sounds honest, so you turn away, because you can’t handle that and his chest hair. 

"I should get to choose where we go," Robin says as you arrive at Eddie's van. "Since it may be our last trip and all."

"Funny you were in Band and not president of the drama club, Buckley," Eddie says dryly. 

"Pot, kettle."

"How 'bout Rita's?" you suggest. "Unlimited refills and no one will hassle Eddie."

"Aw, you care about little ol' me?" Eddie asks. 

"If you get us there in one piece, yes."

Eddie huffs. "No wonder you and the Hair are like this." He crosses his fingers. 

"Damn right," Steve says. "We even finish each other's—"

"Terribly cliche sayings!" you say. 

Robin looks at you for a moment, unusually smirky. Then she looks at Steve. 

"You match. Blue dress, blue tie."

"That's so if she gets lost, they know who to return her to," Steve says. 

You scoff. "More like the other way around." 

He pouts. "Hey."

"Hay is for horses," you sing, skipping ahead to Eddie's van. 

"I'm sorry, are you excited to ride in the Hell Van?" Robin asks. 

You shrug. "We could use some excitement around here, couldn't we?"

"No!" all three say.

"I've had enough excitement for ten lifetimes," Robin mutters. 

Eddie pulls the door open. Your smile quickly drops. 

"Uh, Eddie? Where the fuck are the seats?"

"Right, so, usually I only have Gareth and Jeff ride with me. Gareth always calls shotgun—"

"Shotgun!" Robin hollers, and races to the front seat. 

You stare at the single backseat chair. There's no way it's big enough for you and Steve. 

"Holy shit," Steve says, taking stock of the "backseat."

Eddie rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah… listen, if I'd known we'd be taking her, I would've put the other seat in, swear! Usually we take it out for the equipment." 

"Well, what are we supposed to do? Lay down and pray? This is how people get head injuries, Eddie," you say, arms folded. 

"Maybe we can call a cab," Steve suggests. 

"At this hour?" You shake your head. "No way. This isn't Indianapolis."

"Oh my God." Robin groans. "The solution is so obvious. Sit on Steve's lap. Boom. Now come on, I'm starving."

You tense. Steve is tactile, sure, and you've become acclimated to that over the years. 

But this? This is way, way beyond that. 

"Uh…" Steve glances at you. "Do you… I mean, if you don't mind?"

You glance at Eddie, who's got the tiniest smirk. You glower and he clears his throat, hiding his mouth behind a lock of hair. 

"I don't mind," you say, more confident than you feel. "It's a short drive."

Eddie nods. "Definitely. I'll step on it."

"Please don't step on it," Robin calls. "We're already chancing fate by letting you drive in the first place."

Eddie huffs, walking to the driver's side. "Y'know, Buckley, you are just…"

You look at Steve. He smiles at you, sweet as always. 

"This isn't gonna aggravate any injuries, right?" you ask. "Me… sitting on you?"

You wince at the wording. 

"No, should be fine. My PT gave me the all clear a month ago."

You nod tightly. "Right. Okay. You go first."

Steve climbs in, planting his feet on the floor. You go next, stooping in front of him. You catch each other's gaze for a moment. Then you laugh, suddenly trying to look anywhere but at Steve. 

"Right, so I'll just…"

You slide onto Steve's lap, trying to hold some of your weight so you won't crush him. He splays an easy hand over your belly and leans over to pull the van door shut. Your heart thunders in your chest. 

"You can sit back, y'know," he says, breath tickling your ear. "’M not made of glass."

"Didn't want your legs to go numb," you joke weakly. 

Steve makes an unhappy noise and tugs you back so you're fully seated on him. You angle yourself so you can look at him. Steve looks up at you, lightly tracing a pattern on your hip. Like you do this all the time. 

"Hi," you say, too jittery to crack another joke. 

Steve smiles gently. "Hey."

His tone is fond. You feel sick. 

"Everybody good?" Eddie asks. 

He adjusts the rear view mirror and you watch his eyebrows shoot up in the reflection. 

"You two look cozy."

"Shut the fuck up, Munson," you mumble. "Just drive, already." 

Eddie giggles like a gremlin in reply and turns the ignition.

It’s not bad, at first. Eddie takes it easy driving through Hawkins. Part of it is because he doesn’t want to attract attention. The other part is that Hopper promised Eddie a night in jail if he caught him running the stop signs again. 

You personally think it’s a bluff. Robin does not; she’s enthusiastically annoying about road safety, and points out every single sign and red light. This causes Eddie to start slamming the breaks in retaliation. 

“Holy fuck!” you yelp when Eddie hits the breaks particularly hard. “Eddie!”

Steve is quick to tug you backwards, considering you’re not belted. You scramble to grab his shoulders and twist to look at him.

“Thanks,” you say breathlessly.

He smiles, then leans away, glaring at the front.

“Really, Munson?”

“She started it!” Eddie insists. “Blame your BFF!”

“Can you drive like someone who doesn’t have a death wish?” Robin shoots back.

Steve’s hands are now on the small of your back and on your hip, respectively. Your legs hang over the side of the carseat, butt nestled quite firmly on his thighs. 

God, you’re never living this down. 

“Y’okay?” 

Steve’s breath in your ear makes you squirm. You turn to look at him.

“Fine,” you murmur. “I’m not crushing you, am I?”

“No,” he says. “Don’t worry.”

Eddie breaks again, harder than before. You slip. 

Steve reacts instantly, his hand grabbing the meat of your thigh. Your dress rides up, so it’s skin on skin. 

The momentum is worse, however, because you jerk back. Right into Steve’s face.

Your nose mashes into his, which isn’t great. But then, your lips smush against his cheek. When you pull back, there’s a smeared lipstick print.

Maybe you’re the one with a death wish.

Robin is screeching incoherently but you can't focus on anything but the smudge of pink on Steve's cheek. Your chest feels tight. 

He looks like he's yours.

"Yeah, we're fine, " Steve says, voice close enough to startle you back into the conversation. 

He looks up at you. Your hand lands on the lipstick, like if you cover it, it'll go away. Steve tilts his head, mouth open in a question. 

"Sorry," you rush out before he can speak. "I got some of my, uh, lipstick on you." 

He relaxes. 

"Oh. Thought I was bleeding or something," he says with a slight laugh. "'S okay, I can wipe it off when we get there."

"Uh-huh." 

You drop your hand. You can't stop staring. Stop staring.

The print isn't exactly in the shape of your lips, but it's close. You can see the divots and where your lips parted. If someone were to see you two, they'd assume a lot of things you're not. 

Steve's collar is wrinkled from the van ride from Hell. His neck is flushed. You wonder how your lipstick would look there. 

Eddie presses the brake, softer this time. Steve's fingers dig into the meat of your thigh anyway. More marks. 

"Alright, relax, gang," Eddie says. "We're almost there."

You touch Steve's cheek again and hope he'll forget to wash you off of his face. 

iv. the secret

It's raining. You're in Steve's bed. 

Thunder shakes the sky. You curl further into your—Steve’s—pillow. It smells like his soap and detergent. 

You used to like the rain. Not so much these days. Rain makes you think of blood on asphalt and being alone at twenty-four. Rain silences you. 

"Do you think he'll come back?" 

You've never dared to ask anyone. Not even Joyce. She'd know. She wouldn't tell you the truth, though. 

Nancy Wheeler probably could. She'd face you with that steel brow of hers and give it to you straight. 

Yes. The monster's back. You're not getting married. 

You slip your hand into Steve’s. He squeezes your fingers. Outside, the rain roars. 

"I don't know," Steve says into the darkness. 

You can't see him like this. It makes you mildly claustrophobic. Maybe you should turn on the hall light. 

"Hopper said he was dead. So did that other guy—uh, Murray. And like, Eddie's okay. And Max. El would tell us if she sensed something. It's not like he could come back without making a sound. I mean, from what she told me, she basically, like, unraveled him from the inside out. Which is pretty gross, but also a good way to keep someone dead."

He's rambling. He's rambling to distract you. 

God, what the fuck are you going to do when you're twenty-four and unmarried and Steve's forgotten all about you? 

"I don't want anyone to die," you whisper. 

Steve squeezes your hand harder. 

"No one's gonna die."

You shift closer. You can barely make out Steve's silhouette. The ends of his hair tickle your knuckles. 

"Hey," he says, and you try to find his eyes, but you can't. "Nothing's gonna happen, okay?" 

"Yeah," you say, even though something did happen, something that almost took him away from you, and you don't know if you can handle that again. 

"You can stay here as long as you want," he says. 

"I can go back to my room."

Steve threads his fingers with yours. You can't see his eyes but it's okay.

"Don't," he says. 

"Okay."

You scoot forward, closing another few inches between you two. Now, you feel Steve's breath on your face. He smells like minty toothpaste. He is alive. 

The rain batters against the windows. You could kiss him. You could kiss him right now, and no one would know except for you and him. 

His breath has begun to even out. You lean in blindly. Your lips land on his hair. 

It's hardly a kiss. It’ll be your secret anyway.

+ and, finally, the first.

"Dustin wanted chocolate milk," you say, not looking up from the tub of yogurt you're searching the date for. 

"Yeah," Steve says, parking the cart to the side. "Kid's addicted."

He opens the giant fridge door and a burst of cold air nips at your arm. You shy away. 

"Six dollars? Jesus, does it come from gold cows?"

You snort, finally putting the yogurt in the cart. You stay at Steve’s house more often than not these days, so there’s no point in getting a separate cart.

"What?" Steve asks, looking at you. 

"You're funny, that's what."

"I am?"

"You sound like somebody's grandpa."

"I do not!"

"Do too," you say sweetly. 

"Do not."

"Do too infinity."

Steve rolls his eyes. 

"Yeah, whatever. I'm a grandpa 'cause I don't wanna spend a leg and an arm on chocolate milk for the little shit? So be it."

"Steve," you begin, eyebrows drawing together. "It's his birthday. Have a heart, old man." 

"Oh, good grief," he mumbles, but he takes the carton and puts it into the cart. 

You smile. Steve shakes his head. 

"This is why I don't go shopping with you. You're an enabler."

"I am," you say happily, walking alongside him as he pushes the cart. 

"And you don't push the cart."

You tut. "Pretty girls don't push shopping carts, Steven." 

"Oh, they just find some poor sap to push it for them, huh?" 

"I'm so glad you're on board," you say, skipping ahead to the chip aisle. 

You look through the shelves and land on two types of Doritos. Cool Ranch and Original. It’s a tough decision.

“Steve, what do you think?” You hold up the bags. “Which do they like better?”

“Ranch. According to Mike, liking the original flavors of snacks is lame.”

You snicker and take three bags of the Cool Ranch. Steve pushes the cart to you. 

“I feel like we’re shopping for our kid,” you say. “We’re the awesome house everybody wants to visit because we have the best snacks and the biggest pool.”

You look up when Steve doesn’t reply. He stares at you, expression unreadable. Your smile dims.

“What?” you ask.

Steve shakes his head.

“Nothing,” he says quietly. “It’s nothing.”

“Steve, seriously. What is it?”

He shakes his head again. 

“Nothing, really. Just zoned out for a second.”

He continues to push the cart down the aisle. You watch him for a moment, then follow. The two of you quickly check off the remaining items on Steve’s list (yes, his actual, physical grocery list), and then you check out.

The cashier smiles at you both in line. She’s an older woman, with the typical poofy blowout nearly every woman over fifty gets at Brenda’s Salon in downtown Hawkins. You busily put the items on the conveyor belt while Steve takes out his wallet and makes conversation with the cashier. It’s a good routine you two have established. 

When the cashier’s done, you squeeze past the cart and grab half of the bags. Steve takes the receipt and the rest of the bags.

“You two are very sweet together,” the cashier says, her round cheeks blush-red like apples. “Have a wonderful day.”

“You too, ma’am,” Steve replies, and heads to the exit.

You’re frozen for a moment, startled until Steve calls your name. You heft the bags in your arms and hurry after him. 

Steve stops and takes two of your bags before crossing the parking lot. 

“Steve,” you say, and huff. “I can carry them.”

“Pretty girls don’t push carts or carry bags. It’s the rule, remember?”

You watch, unimpressed, as Steve then proceeds to try and get his car keys with an armful of grocery bags. When he almost drops a bag for the third time, you sigh and take pity. 

“Which pocket?” you ask, snaking your arm around.

“Back left,” he says, smiling sheepishly.

You roll your eyes, feeling disgustingly fond. You shove your hand down Steve’s back jean pocket. He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“Take me out to dinner at least,” he says.

“Pretty boys don’t get taken to dinner until the pretty girl has been asked out properly,” you shoot back. 

Steve smiles, but the joke doesn’t land like it usually does. You step away as soon as you get the keys, clearing your throat. 

“Well, I hope you’ve learned your lesson about carrying all the bags, Popeye.”

You open the trunk for him, then go to open the passenger side door.

“If I don’t carry all the bags, how else am I meant to show off to the ladies?”

You pull the handle on the driver’s side for Steve and he gets in, beaming cheekily at you.

“The only person who’s watching you make a fool of yourself is me, big guy,” you say. “So, mission failed.”

You open the glove compartment and start fishing through for gum. You find a Juicy Fruit packet but it’s empty. 

“Damn, that’s what we forgot,” you say, defeatedly crumpling the cardboard. “Gum.”

You start to turn to Steve. “Do you think we—”

You’ve wondered, probably more than you should, about how Steve Harrington kisses. 

Now you know: tenderly. 

He cups both sides of your face, and you have to brace yourself on the center console for balance. Your other hand tangles in his hair. It’s as soft as you imagined, free of product, and you scrunch the baby hairs at the base of his scalp. Steve makes a quiet noise. 

You kiss until you need air. Even then, Steve doesn’t let you go far. You part with only an inch or two between you. 

“There’s gum in the middle compartment,” is the first thing he says.

“Huh?”

“In here.” He pats the compartment between the seats. “Hubba Bubba. I got it last week.”

You giggle and grab Steve’s face with both hands. His hands slip to your arms and he squeezes, smiling gently.

“What?” he asks.

“Fuck, I’m glad I know you,” you say. 

Steve kisses you again. Two. Steve Harrington has officially kissed you two times. 

You hope you’ll lose track at some point.

[strwbrryeyes]

𖦹°｡⋆ iwaizumi as a best friend

⟡ cw: fluff, friends to lovers, kinda sad towards the end, lmk if i missed anything

⟡ a/n: iwa would def be a helpful friend, he already keeps oikawa in line so why not suopport you? so sleepy

⟡ best friend series: hanamaki, matsukawa, oikawa, || masterlist

best friend iwaizumi who you met your second year of high school after you transferred and when he accidentally threw a ball at you while aiming for oikawa.

best friend iwaizumi who laughed when oikawa yelled at him for hitting his fangirl and you replied with "i dont even know who you are...i just wanted directions..."

best friend iwaizumi who you got closer to when he offered to walk you to class because now oikawa was sulking on the ground. turns out all three of you are in the same class!

best friend iwaizumi who you followed around like a lost puppy because you were too scared to walk around school by yourself (you have no sense of direction).

best friend iwaizumi who didn't mind that you followed him around because it was nice to have someone other than his headaches teammates around.

best friend iwaizumi who you quickly warned up to even though his demeanor was cool and collected. you just noticed that he had a resting bitch face and actually is a kind soul.

best friend iwaizumi who got teased by the other third years for having a fangirl of his own now.

best friend iwaizumi smacked all three of them and said that you weren't stupid enoguh to be anyone's fangirl.

best friend iwaizumi who helped you find a secluded area during every volleyball match you went to because oikawa's fangirls scared you and because he didn't want you to get squished.

best friend iwaizumi who made you workout with him on weekends after he noticed how lazy you are.

best friend iwaizumi who rewarded you with your favorite dessert after every cardio session since it was your least favorite.

best friend iwaizumi who constantly had to make sure you were doing what you were supposed to be doing in class instead of jsut doodling on his worksheets (not that he minded, he actually adored the doodles).

best friend iwaizumi who allowed only you to call him 'iwa-chan' after you heard oikawa call him that. it was cute coming from you, but not from oikawa. oikawa still got hit every time he said it.

best friend iwaizumi who realized his feelings for you when you were hanging out at his house and borrowed his volleyball jacket because you were cold. the thing practically drowned you but you looked so darn cute in it.

best friend iwaizumi who didn't say anything about it because he thought you thought of him like a brother.

best friend iwaizumi who was in a sappy mood when he got accepted into a school in california because it was his dream but he didn't want to say bye to you.

best friend iwaizumi who let you cry on his shoulder when he told you the news. he held his own tears back until you left because he felt like he needed to be strong for you.

best friend iwaizumi who told you he was in love with you during graduation.

best friend iwaizumi who finally cried in front of you when you said you loved him back.

best friend iwaizumi who is now boyfriend iwaizumi who had to convince you not to follow him to california because he wanted you to live your own life. no matter though, you guys still called/facetimed as often as you could.

[zweiginator]

What if divorced!art gets dragged to a club one weekend by his foundation-buddies and he obviously doesn’t want to but he forces himself and then it turns out that escort!reader is also there with her friends and they see each other outside of «work» for the first time… And her friends doesn’t know about her escorting so maybe they recognize him and maybe she goes to talk to him because her friends says she should «flirt more»🤭 And then ofc he fucks her in the dirty club bathroom

divorced!art upset because he hasn't seen you in weeks. everything has been busy since he hit the ground running with tennis again. practice after practice, signing sponsorship deals, galas and charity fundraising. and you had been busy too. art didn't know this, but you're a student as well. you didn't tell him not because you didn't want to share your life with him, but because it made you feel juvenile. of course, it's university and you're almost finished with your degree after five and a half years instead of the usual four--but you still feel dumb talking about that part of your life with him. for you to bitch about group projects and essays about political science while art is upset about custody battles and petty divorce politics--it feels trivial.

but your friends want to celebrate the semester being freshly over. just a few more summer classes for you and you will finally graduate. you'll finally get to hang up your hat and say goodbye to escorting. to that taboo little secret that's been dragging your eyes into sunken purple holes for the past fourteen months.

and your friends don't know, of course. it's impossible to explain to a group of girls whose parents pay for tuition and books and groceries. gas, clothes and even the designer heels they wear to the club they're standing in right now--that you need to do this. for money. to survive.

no, it isn't ideal. but this is the real fucking world and sex sells.

so they think you're prudish. they've never seen you have a boyfriend or flirt because that's your job every other day of the week. to pretend to be in love. to fuck lonely assholes and pretend to care about their lives. to believe them when they say they aren't a bad husband. that men have needs.

they urge you to flirt with men at the bar. but like always, you're just not interested. and all the men in this shitty tavern-bar-turned-college-club are all the same. middle-aged men who shoved their wedding bands in their back pockets to pick up pussy from a doe-eyed girl in her twenties.

none of them are remotely attractive. and you're thanking your lucky stars that you don't recognize a single one of them.

your friend taps on your shoulder. "there's one hot guy here. you may recognize him. he's kinda famous."

you down the rest of your drink. "oh really? i doubt i'd be interested."

but she points to a man leaning against the bar way off in the corner. sad eyes and salt and pepper hair that was once dirty blond; you've seen his baby pictures. he's tall and in love with you and you with him and you could strangle him right now because he hasn't returned your calls or texts in over five days.

"art donaldson." your other friend sighs. "he's a tennis player and i'd fuck him if i didnt have a boyfriend."

it's then that art turns around. likely feels the eyes of six girls burning into the back of his skull. he's holding a beer bottle and he looks forlorn, his typical woe is me demeanor that makes him so fucking attractive to you. lights up that neanderthal part of your brain that makes you want to fix the unfixable.

and then he smiles. it makes you blush and your friends, not knowing the tendrils of your history together that have now become rooted in the ground beneath you, tell you to go for it.

"he's staring right at you."

you know that. art knows not to make it clear he knows you; it would open up that whole can of worms.

so he waits for you to come to him and you pretend to be nervous which isn't that hard because you are already.

when you get to him, he whispers in your ear.

"they don't know about your job, im assuming?" he wants to wrap his arms around your waist but he refrains.

"they don't. but they know you, and they're very fond of you. they want me to flirt more."

art flags down the bartender. he gets you a gin and tonic, remembering how you liked the one he made for you that first night at his hotel room. you were just trying to make him feel better.

"well im glad im the lucky man." he sits down on a stool and hooks his leg around the stool next to him to bring it closer. he motions for you to sit and your friends are all staring at you but pretending they aren't.

"me too. although i don't know how much you deserve it." you take a sip. "given how you haven't responded to my calls in awhile."

art takes your drink from your hand, sets it down. he rests his hand on your lower back.

"im sorry honey. i haven't been meaning to be an asshole. there's a lot going on with tennis and everything."

you run a hand through his hair. "i get it." you feign a frown. "you just may have to make it up to me." and when you uncross your legs, art can see your thong. he tenses his jaw.

"i do need to make it up to you, don't i?" he takes a swig from his beer. "i'll tell you what." he glances around, at the bathroom door swinging open. "why don't i go to the bathroom to freshen up and you come check on me in a few minutes, yeah?"

he's so close you can smell the beer on his breath. you nod and he goes toward the bathroom.

your friends want to come over and ask you all about it, but then you're knocking on the bathroom door with your special knock. the one that only you and art know.

he pulls you inside, and the bathroom is dingy with a flickering light and graffiti on the walls. drawings of dicks and crude words but art sits on the toilet seat.

"c'mere." he reaches out to you and you go to him. a pavlovian response that makes you so fucking wet to be near him. to be on his lap like you're supposed to be. he kisses you like he missed you because he has. he's not supposed to. his lips trail wet, hot kisses up your throat and he's greedier than usual. dragging your pussy over his throbbing erection. he's only wearing his briefs on his bottom half and you tug at his shirt because you want to see all of him. feel all of him. he does the same to you. panting into your mouth because his cock rests between your folds. nudges against your clit as you grind on him.

"fuckin' ruined pussy for me." he throws his head back and you grab his jaw to kiss him. sloppy and disgusting but you love the taste of him. how your lipstick melds into his saliva. drips down his neck like you're a vampire taking him for everything he fucking has.

"yeah?" you rake your nails down his chest and take his cock out. it's bare against your pussy, your panties pushed to the side.

"nothing turns me on anymore. nothing gets me off. only you. that tight fucking cunt."

he never talks like this. so crude. but you love drawing it out of him. milking those dirty words as you stroke his heavy cock for him. people bang on the bathroom door but neither of you fucking care.

you sink down on him. you do it all at once. you're addicted to how his hips spasm and his eyes roll back and he lets a strangled moan-groan hybrid escape him. he holds onto the flesh of your ass as you fuck him.

the porcelain of the toilet creaks unsteady below you and you're completely on top of him, your feet behind you as you fuck him harder and harder. but he asks for more because he wants you more.

"fuck me--fuck me--" he repeats it over and over. guides you up and down and up and down his cock from base to tip. "your pussy was fucking made for me. i need it, i need it--"

his mouth hangs open and you can't believe he's yours like this. you want him to cum but then again you don't because then he can't be inside you anymore. and that's precisely where you want him.

his jaw is tense and his neck pulses with his heartbeat as he presses his forehead to yours.

"i want you--" a moan. "to hit me. i want you to fucking claim me."

so you smack him, and his arms wrap tight against your waist because he's cumming and he wants it to stay like this forever. but if it can only be a few more minutes, that will do too.

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 19 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You and Bradley have resorted to planning accidental run-ins as an excuse to see each other. When Penny insists that Bradley joins her and Maverick for dinner on Thursday night, you agree to watch Noah. But dinner doesn't turn out the way he thought it would.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, swearing, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

After Meredith managed to throw off Bradley's entire week, he was really antsy to see you, and he could tell Noah was, too. He really couldn't fathom how Meredith got the hearing postponed, and every time Bradley thought he was prepared, she threw him for a loop. 

He couldn't stand the thought of Noah worried and upset, being forced to answer questions about his home and his life in the courtroom. Even the idea of Meredith being allowed in the same room as Noah had Bradley clenching and unclenching his fists as he left work on Wednesday. He could tell Maverick was getting a bit annoyed that he kept asking to use his time off and then changing the schedule. 

When he checked his phone as he climbed into the Bronco, Bradley saw a text from you.

Babysitter: I'm going grocery shopping tonight. I thought maybe there was a chance I could "bump into" you boys at the store?

Bradley could always groceries anyway, and he knew that spending a little bit of time with you was just what he needed. He asked you which store and what time, and then he picked up Noah and took a few minutes to get changed and fix his hair. 

More than anything, he wanted to be able to invite you back to his place, do the bare minimum to help you make a perfect dinner, and then clean up while you and Noah played with the blocks. The option to make that a routine was in Bradley's brain now, and he knew it wasn't going to go away. You should be here with him.

"Let's go shopping, bub," he told Noah. "I'll get stuff to make ants on logs."

"Just like my babysitter?" 

"Just like Princess," Bradley agreed, and soon they were on their way to the store. 

Bradley had Noah buckled in a shopping car, strolling aimlessly through the produce area, looking around for you. He tossed some bananas and carrots in along with some apples, and then Noah was smiling and trying to climb out of the cart. Bradley looked over his shoulder and saw you pushing your own cart toward them. Then you let go of it and rushed over to them.

"Hi," you said to Bradley, barely glancing at him before you wrapped Noah in a tight hug. "Can I help you shop? Make sure your dad buys you all the good stuff?"

"Yes!" Noah cheered, and Bradley just shook his head. He really wanted to kiss you, but he kept his lips to himself. After running into Meredith at the coffee shop, he was a little hesitant.

"Hi, Princess," he whispered in his Daddy voice, and you finally looked up at him with a smirk. 

Then you and he pushed your carts along slowly, adding groceries and sharing some subtle touches. When you reached for him in the cereal aisle, Bradley didn't stop you. He let your hand come to rest on his chest, and when your lips met his in the softest kiss while Noah picked out some Cheerios, he pulled you a little closer. 

"I can't stay away from you," he whispered as you took a small step backwards out of his arms. 

You looked between him and Noah, and Bradley could see longing and sadness in your eyes. "I don't want you to. I miss being at your house. Do you think you'll be able to come to my graduation?" you asked, and Bradley would have done anything you wanted. 

"Of course," he promised, hoping like hell he could make that happen. He wanted to be there to make you happy. And because he was so proud of you. And because Noah loved you. "We'll be there."

You slipped your hand in his and kissed Noah's rosy cheek. "You should get some Rice Krispies too."

Bradley added a box to this cart and followed you around the store, soaking up your presence and attention and hoping he'd get more of you soon.

------------------------

Bradley was at home, unpacking bag after bag of groceries. You didn't let them leave the store until he had plenty of food, and he told you he wanted to take you home and unload you from his car, too. You laughed, but he was pretty fucking serious about it.

Noah was coloring as Bradley put away some pasta sauce when his phone started blowing up. He got texts from Nat and Penny at the same time, but before he could respond to either one of them, Tracy called him.

"Apparently Meredith was in breach of contract with her lawyer," she told him immediately. 

Bradley held onto the jar of sauce and asked, "What does that mean?"

"Could mean a number of things, but the bottom line is, her lawyer walked out because of something Meredith did intentionally. And apparently she found new representation, and the judge is adamantly refusing any further postponements. So please, be ready for next week. You and Noah both."

Bradley swallowed hard and nearly dropped the jar as his eyes landed on his son. "We're ready."

He finished with the groceries and made two sandwiches. Nat was already bugging him about Thursday night, trying to get him to stop by her place for a drink. And Penny was asking if he was free to have dinner with her and Mav. Apparently she wanted to chat with him about his future.

Bradley sighed and bit into his sandwich, watching Noah eat his as well. He knew everyone was concerned about how he was dealing with everything, but he just wanted them all to fuck off. A movie night with you and Noah was the only thing he really wanted. The three of you could watch a Disney movie before Noah's bedtime, and then Bradley would take you to his bed and spend hours making you cum with his lips all over your body.

He leaned back and sighed. Nat wasn't going to leave him alone until he texted her back. And Penny was likely to get Mav to side with her until Bradley agreed to meet them for dinner. So he texted you.

Princess, any chance you can watch Noah tomorrow night? Penny wants me to have dinner with them.

Your nearly instant response of "I would love to" had him smiling. 

"Hey, bub, wanna play with your babysitter again this week?"

Noah had jelly all over his cheek which made Bradley smile. "She can cook the food so you don't do it," he said innocently. And Bradley thought he made a very good point. If Bradley tried to cook half of the groceries he just bought, he and Noah would be starving in no time. 

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Bradley told his son. And now he could look forward to tomorrow, knowing he'd see you then.

----------------------------

You dressed for the evening with Noah like you were going on a date. Because you were hoping Bradley would take one look at you and rush back home after dinner to spend some time with you. Having a sleepover was probably out of the question, but you were definitely interested in recreating some of your dirty moments on the living room couch with him.

You moaned as you applied some eyeliner. You already packed up your bag with some new coloring books, and you made a playlist of kid friendly songs for Noah. He loved singing with you, and you knew Bradley was a bit of a music buff. With a little luck, Meredith would be out of the picture soon, and you could spend more time with your boys, listening to music and hanging out. 

When you checked the time, you dashed downstairs to slip your shoes on. Bradley asked if you could be there by 5:30 which seemed pretty early for dinner. But you promised him you would be. You grabbed some skittles to share with Noah and ran out to your car. When you caught your reflection in the window, you smiled. You looked good. You couldn't wait to see Bradley.

The front door was unlocked when you arrived. "Hi! It's me!" you called out, and Noah came running right for you. "Noah! I missed babysitting you!" you laughed, scooping him up as your tote bag slipped down your arm. "I brought songs and stuff to color and a snack."

"What kind of snack?" he asked, and you smiled.

"I'll show you after I make you dinner."

And then Bradley was in the living room doorway, looking so good, your mouth was watering. Snug jeans, fitted dress shirt, slightly messy hair. Fuck.

"Princess," he rasped, walking toward you with a smile on his handsome face. He leaned down and kissed your cheek while Noah was in your arms, and that thrilled you. Then he held up a key. The house key you practically threw at him when you stormed out in tears after he was so mean to you. "Will you take this back? Please?"

When you nodded, he slipped it inside your tote bag and then slipped the straps down your arm and set it down for you. He was examining your face, his eyes trailing down your neck and body while Noah rambled about a cartoon he had seen. The subtle flush of Bradley's cheeks as his eyes returned to your face had you squeezing your thighs together. 

Somehow he could tell. He knew what he did to you. The little grin on his lips as he kissed your neck made you want to roll your eyes. "I'll see you later, Princess," he whispered, running his fingers along your arm as he kissed the top of Noah's head. 

And then he was gone, and you were left with Noah. "Mac and cheese? Or spaghetti?" you asked.

Noah yawned as you set him down on the carpet next to the snag. Next to where you and Bradley had sex the very first time. You sighed, already counting down the time until he'd be back home. 

"Ummm, mac and cheese."

"You got it!"

You taught Noah some new songs while you cooked the pasta, and he colored a spaceship purple. But you noticed he was a little quiet, and he was yawning a lot. 

"You okay?" you asked him softly when you set his dinner down in front of him. He just nodded as you poured him some milk. "You wish your dad was home?" He nodded some more, but at least he was eating and drinking. But when he was done, he was reaching for you with his cheesy hands. You cleaned him up a bit and tried to play with blocks on the floor. You even offered to get the paper crowns. But he only seemed interested in watching a cartoon on the couch.

So you let Noah curl up on your lap, but soon he was asleep. And when you pushed your fingers through his soft, curly hair, you noticed his forehead felt warm. You let your palm rest softly against his skin. He definitely had a fever. 

You managed to slide out from beneath him, letting him rest on the couch while you went in search of a thermometer. After tearing apart the bathroom and the drawers in Noah's dresser, you were getting frustrated. You backtracked to the bathroom and then checked the first aid kit in the kitchen. Nothing. 

Before you dug around in Bradley's bedroom, you thought you ought to text him. 

Hey Daddy, I think Noah has a fever. Where's your thermometer? 

But you got no response from him. And when Noah woke up a little while later, crying for you, he had very rosy cheeks and a runny nose.

"It's okay, sweet Noah. I'm right here," you promised, picking him up and carrying him around with you. "You don't feel well, do you? Do you know where your daddy keeps the thermometer?"

"No," he whined, crying a little harder. His forehead felt even warmer now as he rested his face against your neck, so you decided to run a bath to help him cool down. 

You checked the time on your phone again. It was pretty late, and you wished Bradley would answer your text or just come home. You poured out a dose of the children's Tylenol you found in the bathroom and knelt down next to the tub. 

"Drink this up. It tastes like cherries," you promised, coaxing the liquid into his mouth. Then you brushed your fingers through his hair as you ran a washcloth all over his skin. 

At this point, you had sent several unanswered texts, so you decided to call Bradley and interrupt his dinner with Penny and Pete. He might even be on his way home. You weren't worried, exactly; you were studying pediatric nursing. But you really wanted to know exactly what Noah's temperature was, and you wanted to care for him the way Bradley always did when he was sick. You figured that would make Noah feel better. 

"It's okay," you whispered to Noah. "I'm sure your dad will be home soon." 

You wiped tears away from his eyes while you called Bradley. But when someone else answered his phone, your heart sank, and you could feel tears in your own eyes. 

-------------------------

Bradley lounged on Nat's couch and sipped a beer. He had about an hour until he was supposed to meet Penny and Mav, and it was so nice to just spend some time with her here. 

She plopped down on the couch next to him. "So your babysitter is with Noah tonight?"

Bradley snorted as he peeled away the label from the bottle. "I wouldn't call her that."

Nat rolled her eyes and asked, "So would you call her your girlfriend then?"

"Nope," he murmured. "Not allowed to do that yet."

"Yet?"

"Yet," he replied, taking another long sip. "But as soon as I can get Meredith out of the picture, I'm asking her to move in with us."

Nat whistled. "Wow. Skipping right to the point, I guess? No more dating apps ever again?"

"Nope," he said with a smile. And then he did absolutely nothing for a full hour except bullshit with his best friend. 

"Have a nice dinner with Penny," Nat said as Bradley stood to leave. "You know she worries about you, right? Kind of wants to be a stand-in mom and grandma to you and Noah?"

"Yeah," Bradley grunted. She meant well. Penny always meant well. And she was a huge help with Noah, even going so far as to keep him when Bradley was deployed. "She just wants to be helpful. I gotta get to dinner with her. See you at work tomorrow."

"Yeah, you should be in a great mood after Penny buys you an overpriced steak and you go home to your dream girl."

"Goodnight, Nat," he said with a grin before he walked out to his Bronco. 

He was really looking forward to the overpriced steak now. He knew was running a little late as he left Nat's place, but when he passed a flower shop that was still open, he quickly stopped to get you a bouquet of flowers. Wildflowers. They smelled just like you. He set them on his passenger seat, and he couldn't wait to get home after he ate dinner and give them to you. 

He found a parking space right in front of the restaurant, and after he hopped out, he jogged inside, ready to apologize for being a few minutes late. "Hi," he said when the hostess smiled at him. But before he could say anything else, he heard someone calling his name.

"Bradley."

He spun to see Helen stand up from a table and make her way over to him. She was wearing a very short dress and some high heels, and it struck Bradley that he had never seen her in anything other than a Hard Deck shirt. He'd also never seen her anywhere except the Hard Deck. It was kind of surreal. 

"Helen," he said with a nod, but she strolled right up to him and wrapped her hands around his forearm. Her nails were a boring shade of pink, and he started to imagine your purple nails and soft skin. 

"Come on, Bradley," she said with a laugh, trying to pull him away from the hostess. "I already have a table."

He cocked his head to one side slightly and then glanced down at her hands still on him. "I'm actually here to meet Penny for dinner."

She was shaking her head and biting her lip as she tugged on his arm until he started following her. "You're not here to have dinner with Penny."

"I'm not?" he asked with a laugh, looking around and seeing no signs of her or Maverick. 

"No," she said, planting her palm on his chest and guiding him toward an empty chair. She patted his chest as he sat, and she took the seat next to him. "I got Penny to get you to agree to come here so we could have dinner together." Bradley's heart was pounding as she put her hand on his knee, but he was completely frozen now. "After she told Missy and I that you were dating again, I told her I've had a thing for you for years, Rooster."

"Oh," he managed, still thoroughly confused as to how this had happened exactly. "Okay."

She laughed and sipped a martini as she rubbed his leg. "I just thought you and I could definitely have a lot of fun together. Either dating or just... you know."

He knew. He knew exactly what she meant. And right now he was absolutely livid with Penny. But he was also livid with himself, because he had never taken the time he should have with you. Because even in spite of Meredith, he should have been in a real relationship with you by now.

"Uh, Helen," he murmured, pulling his phone out of his pocket as a means to get her to move her hand. He set his phone down on the table and said, "I'm kind of seeing someone."

"Oh," she said softly. "Penny told me you weren't. She said you were too focused on Noah and your ex."

Bradley cradled his head in his hand. "I mean, I am. But I'm also seeing someone else. It's new. Penny didn't know."

Helen looked dejected, but she shrugged and said, "If you're just kind of seeing someone and it's new, staying for dinner wouldn't hurt anything. I already ordered you a beer. I know exactly what you like." He couldn't help but notice the way she leaned toward him and pressed her breasts together. And then he saw his favorite kind of beer sitting on the table next to her martini. 

Suddenly an overpriced steak was the last thing he wanted. "Just the drinks, okay? Then we'll call it a night. Excuse me for a minute." 

He stood and headed to the restroom as she nodded at him. But he made it all the way to the men's room before he realized he left his phone on the table and couldn't even text you to check in. All he wanted was to get back home to you and Noah as soon as possible, but he was going to have to have a drink first. He really hoped Helen could finish that fucking martini quickly. 

After he splashed some water on his face, he rolled his shoulders back and sighed. He would need to have a discussion with Penny about this. But when he saw Helen talking on his phone as he approached the table again, he started walking faster. 

----------------------------

A woman had answered Bradley's phone. And it definitely wasn't Penny. It wasn't even Natasha. You were frozen, one hand on Noah's forehead and the other gripping your phone to your ear. 

"Hello?" came the woman's voice again. "Hello?" She sounded annoyed now.

"Where's Bradley?" you asked, your voice breaking pitifully. 

"He just ran to the restroom."

You swallowed hard and managed to ask, "Who are you?"

"Helen," she replied, and you nearly dropped your phone into the bathtub. Why was he with Helen? 

"Where are you?"

"We're out to dinner," she replied, and you could practically hear the smirk in her voice. "Shouldn't you know that if you're the babysitter?"

He lied to you. He lied to you again. He told you he was going out with Penny and Pete. He told you that you meant something to him. That he was waiting to be in a relationship with you. That you were the only one. 

"Put him on the phone. Now," you said with as much force as you could muster. Noah was crying again, and now your eyes were filled with tears, too.

"I'll have him call you back when he comes back to the table." 

The sound of her voice was grating on your nerves as you abruptly stood. Noah was looking up at you, his pink cheeks streaked with tears. "Tell him his son is sick, and I don't appreciate any of this!" you shouted. 

Helen said something about having Bradley call you back, but you were too busy trying to end the call before you burst into tears. 

"I'm cold," Noah whined. You looked at him and then dropped back to your knees to fill the tub up with some warmer water.

"Sorry," you whispered, swiping at your tears before you pushed his hair away from his damp forehead. "I'll fix it for you."

And then your phone started ringing. Bradley was calling you back.

---------------------------

"Okay, well, I'll have him call you back, but we're still in the middle of dinner," Helen said, and then she ended the call and set his phone down.

"Who was that?" Bradley asked, startling Helen as he loomed over her. 

"Your babysitter," she said with an eye roll. "I saw that's who it was on the caller ID, so I thought I'd answer it for you. She said your son is sick, but it's probably just a tummy ache."

"Noah's sick?" he asked, sinking down into his chair and fumbling with his phone. If you were calling to tell him there was something wrong with Noah, then it was definitely more than just a tummy ache. Then he noticed that he had somehow missed some texts from you as well. 

"I'm sure he's fine," Helen said smoothly. "Are you sure you don't want to order dinner? I'm starving, and I've heard the steaks here are excellent."

But Bradley barely heard her as he tried to call you back, listening to it ring and ring before you picked up. 

"Hi," you muttered without emotion. 

"Is Noah okay? What's wrong?" he asked. He was met with silence. "Princess, what's going on?"

He heard your humorless laugh before you said, "That's what I should be asking you. And Helen."

Fuck. Bradley knew what you must be thinking right now as he stood and glared at Helen across the table. "Baby, I'm on my way home. What's wrong with Noah?"

"He has a fever, and he's miserable. And I can't find your thermometer. And don't call me baby," you spat, and Bradley quickly tossed some cash onto the table and started heading for the exit.

"I'm on my way home right now, okay? I'll take care of everything. I'll explain everything." 

But you had hung up on him. And now he was panicking. About Noah and about you.

"Bradley!" Helen called, running after him. "Can you at least give me a ride home? I took an Uber to get here."

"Fine," he growled, barely listening as he stormed out to the sidewalk. When he opened his door and climbed in, the Bronco smelled like the flowers he had purchased for you on his way to the restaurant. 

"Fuck!" he nearly shouted as he drove away. He was vaguely aware that Helen was with him. He'd worry about that later. You and Noah were his primary concerns right now, and he'd figure that out first.

"Your babysitter is the girl you're kind of seeing?" she asked as he neared his neighborhood.

"Yeah," he grunted. "And it's actually not that new. And it's not casual at all." 

She remained quiet as he pulled in and parked next to your car. He left her in the Bronco. Hell, he wasn't even sure if he closed the driver's side door as he ran up his sidewalk and unlocked his front door.

"Princess? Noah?" he called out, frantically looking around the kitchen and Noah's bedroom before he saw the bathroom light was on. "Baby, what's going on?" he asked when he saw you kneeling on the mat next to the tub while Noah sat in the bath.

Slowly, you rose to your feet and turned to face him, and Bradley had never seen your beautiful face so angry before. Tears were dripping from your eyes as you took a step closer to him.

"Daddy!" Noah called out. And between the look on your face and his son sobbing in the bath, Bradley had no idea how he was going to fix any of this.

"I can't believe you lied to me again," you gasped. "I can't believe I let you lie to me again." 

And when he reached for you, trying to explain what happened, you pushed his hand out of the way.

-----------------------------

Oh, shit. Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 20

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[simpxxstan]

best friend's older brother vernon

this is part of my 550 followers celebration event! find the rest of the members' headcanons in the event too as i post them through this month!

warnings: mention of cheating (not vernon or reader)

thinking about best friend's older brother!vernon who is two years older to you, but doesn't feel older at all

he may have lived in the world for two years more than you or your best friend, but you don't see where the years except the fact that he's taller than you

it's clear that vernon needs someone to take care of him. someone to show him which stop to get off at on the subway. someone who feeds him snacks when he's skipped lunch because he was too busy riding his bicycle. someone to push his hair back and make him wear a beanie when he's long due for a haircut. someone to remind him to take a certain book to class because he's bound to forget.

and mindlessly, unconsciously, you've taken up that role. of course, his sister and his family members are there, but you get involved too. partly because you spend so much time with his sister, but also because you like doing this. somehow, seven-year-old you felt very grown up taking care of a boy, so you go with the flow, and even after eleven years, the habits have stuck.

thinking about best friend's older brother!vernon who introduces you to his relatives as his 'girlfriend'

ten year old vernon learnt the day before that a girlfriend is a female friend you want to marry. hence, he finds no problem in introducing you to everyone as his girlfriend. consequently, he absolutely does not understand why you smack him on the back and go all red and pouty, and everyone in the room begins laughing at him. he didn't say anything wrong, did he?

"why do you want to marry her, vernon-ah?" his mother asks him later. "because she's the nicest girl i've ever met. and she knows everything about me, and i know everything about her." his mother laughs, "that is quite true. well, you can't go about calling anyone your girlfriend, okay? it's only something you can do later, when you're older, and the girl also agrees to being your girlfriend." "why can't i do it now if y/n agrees to it?" "because that's how it is, nonie."

vernon doesn't understand why it is like that, but he lets that occasion. it doesn't mean that the joke doesn't persist. and even at the age of twenty, when you meet his relatives at his birthday party, they all call you his girlfriend.

of course, vernon understands what it really means now, and he also realises his mistake back then. even you don't mind the joke anymore, and just go with it. but it's wrong- he should correct everyone and put an end to it. and yet, he doesn't. does he, maybe, like people referring to you as his girlfriend?

thinking about best friend's older brother!vernon who grows up to be a fine specimen of the male sex

and you, along with everyone else in the neighbourhood, are awed by his curly hair and chiselled features. he doesn't let everyone get close to him, owing to his shy nature, but you're fortunate enough to still remain in his closest circle, even after he graduates from school and joins a music production course in college. the age gap between the two of you feels lesser and lesser as you both grow up.

when you join the same college as him, he becomes your guardian angel in college. from giving you tours in the college to getting you involved with societies and the joys of dorm life, the two of you are again always together. except, his sister enrolled in a different university so unfortunately, you have to bear a long-distance friendship now. it is a comfort, still, that vernon is right here.

the roles are slightly reversed now. although vernon's still lost in daily life- losing track of time and place often and hoping for your guidance- he takes a more proactive role in supporting you in other, important matters.

like how he drives you to the interview of your first internship. you leave the office crying, and he pulls you into a hug. two weeks later, when you receive an acceptance offer letter, he hugs you close again. "i had said so," he tells you when he buys you ice cream as a treat.

like how he ensures you get in touch with the top seniors from your major so that you can prepare your notes well. "how do you even know him?" you ask him after he introduces you to one such senior. "oh, i see him around." "is he your friend?" "no, but he's not not my friend either."

thinking about best friend's older brother!vernon who also sees you fall in love for the first time in college

it's with a senior he introduced you to, youngjae, and he regrets the decision completely. he had introduced you to him because of his academic merit, but beyond that, he knew youngjae was up to no good. a playboy through and through- he would break your heart the second the chase dies out.

he ends up spending lesser and lesser time with you these days because of how you go everywhere with your new crush now. "has he asked you out yet?" vernon raises a brow at you when the two of you meet again in front of the dorms. "not yet," the blush is clear on your cheeks, as your eyes lit up. "but i'm sure youngjae will, soon! we've been texting a lot, nonie. i must thank you for introducing him to me, of course." you giggle, but vernon's face doesn't reflect your happiness. he's still confused about how to feel about this entire affair.

rationally, he should not be confused. this is protectiveness he feels. he felt the same way towards his sister when she started dating her current partner. it's worse in this case because he knows your heart will be broken. so it's just his instinct that's making him more protective.

but it's not just protectiveness, he knows. he knows it when you're going to parties with youngjae on your arm. he knows it when you laugh too loudly at any of youngjae's stupid jokes. he knows it when people start referring to you as youngjae's girlfriend.

thinking about best friend's older brother!vernon who is the person you run to when you find out that youngjae has been sleeping with someone else all this time

vernon doesn't ask or say anything. he simply sighs when he sees the tears streaming down your face, and pulls you into a bone-crushing hug against his chest. and he lets you cry into his sweater, all snot and wetness.

but it's the best thing he could do for you, and you wouldn't trade this for anything else. you know he understands in the silence, and you don't leave his side all night, as he plays soft jazz on his phone and you both sit on the bed in his dorm room in silence. his roommate also surprisingly doesn't question it, the two of you sharing earphones and sitting on the bed without saying anything, all night.

the next morning, you finally come to terms with your grief, having overcome the shock, and tell vernon everything. thankfully, he doesn't say, i knew it. he only says, "he never deserved you anyway. such a fool."

when you go to the cafeteria for lunch, as both your and vernon's classes start after lunch that day, vernon's hand is around your shoulders. every person in the cafeteria turns to look at the two of you, even youngjae. he steps up to you to talk to you, but you don't even look at him and walk straight past him. the two of you finally reach a table where your friends are sitting, who you'd texted earlier about the situation. they all sympathise with you, consoling you and genuinely making you feel better. but the best medicine is the weight of vernon's warm hand on your back throughout lunch time.

soon the entire college gets to know about the situation. it's comforting to know that no one's standing up in defense of youngjae and everyone's isolating him for his shameless actions. when vernon walks you to your classroom after lunch, youngjae confronts you again, forcefully making you stop in your way. when he sees that his pleas and apologies aren't melting you in any way, his eyes flare up with rage, and he looks to vernon instead.

"and what the hell are you doing? why are you walking around with her like that?"

"because she's my girlfriend, that's why."

thinking about best friend's older brother!vernon who takes everyone by shock by his declaration

of course, this new addition to the ongoing situation spreads like wildfire through all students also. and it has the same effect it has on them as it does on you. vernon almost laughs at the way your cheeks flare up and your lips purse into a pout. it's hauntingly similar to the incident eleven years ago, except vernon knows he's not saying it without understanding this time.

"what was that for?" you ask him later. "i had to do it. you know he would beg you to come back if i'd moved away." "well, i would be strong and resist him." vernon's glare makes your words falter. "are you sure?" "vern-" "okay just play along with it for a few days. will help you forget him faster."

you spend that night thinking about the events of the day, and you finally realise that the burning sensation in your chest is not sadness. that seems to have run out totally after your crying session with vernon last night. then what is this feeling?

you don't get time to yourself the next few days- when everyone's bombarding you with where when and how you and vernon got together. "it- it just happened," is what you say. and vernon doesn't clarify it either- so it just goes along.

and everyone actually accepts it immediately. no one gives it a second thought, no one needs a longer explanation. "oh we kinda saw it coming," one of your friends say. well, you certainly did NOT see it coming.

apparently, him playing along with it means he has his hands constantly on you, either looped through your arm, or a touch at the small of your back, or his fingers weaving through your hair. it also means him spending every moment outside class with you. soon, he becomes a permanent feature in your friend group, and your and his friends merge to become a big group sitting together at lunch, and creating an endless cacophony.

thinking about best friend's older brother!vernon who tells you that you can end this play-acting after a few weeks and the initial gossip has died down

but every weekend, his heart thumps in his chest as he anticipates when you'll tell him that you want to end the ruse now finally and you're sick of him. he knows he's putting on a very bold face in front of you, but inside? god, he's all nervous putty. he knows he's taking big risks- risks which are more likely to not pay off than actually succeed. but he can't not take the chance when it's right in front of him.

for these fifteen days, vernon lives his dream into reality. before this, he had no idea it would make him so happy to be your boyfriend. even if it's a fake relationship. is this what he's been yearning for all these months when he's seen you going around with another man? is this why he detests youngjae even more than he deserves for his faults?

he doesn't want to think too much about why he's so enthusiastic about doing this. he doesn't want to understand why his heart is fluttering all the time and he's losing focus on everything- even things he's usually very concentrated in, like music or films. he doesn't want to think of why his heart is thumping in his chest whenever the weekend comes around.

thinking about best friend's older brother!vernon who invites you over for movie night to his dorm on sunday

"you'll break up with him now." you tell yourself, looking into the mirror, even as your body moves with a mind of its own. you're wearing a silk dress that's completely not appropriate for a friendly movie night. you're even tying up your hair in a ponytail because vernon once said that hairstyle looks good on you.

"you will draw it to an end for your own good." that's what you tell yourself, but what is your own good? kinda blurry at the moment, because a big part of you doesn't want to let go of vernon. you know that ending things today will have an impact on your closeness- but you can't figure out why it is that you're so worried about letting go of vernon. is it because you don't want to lose a friend, or is it because you've found your ideal man in him?

because one thing you can't lie to even yourself is how perfect vernon would be, hypothetically, as a boyfriend, especially to you. he knows everything about you- your coffee order so that he always knows what to bring from the cafeteria, your menstrual cycle so that he can remind you to buy pads when your week's due, your workout routine so that he knows exactly where to massage that night while the two of you chill.

he's everything youngjae could never dream of being. you're in fact glad youngjae did cheat on you. you've been so blind for stooping down so low when you have had a perfect man around you for all your life. and yet, you don't know if these feelings are just the butterflies from his attention through this make-believe relationship, or whether you've really lost your heart to him. and in fear that it's the second, in which case you're going to regret the steps you plan to take tonight, you make haste to vernon's dorm room to tell him to break up.

"you will tell him to end this right now." you tell yourself when you knock on his door. but when he opens the door wearing his old, ratted t-shirt that you've seen him wear since high school, his hair messy over his forehead, and his pink lips plump, you forget all about breaking up and instead just go in with him, taking his hand as he helps you sit down on his dorm bed and sets up the movie on his laptop. when he gets under the blanket, his body unimaginably close to yours, the exposed skin of your legs graze against his hands and you can see the way he gulps.

"you have to tell him now, y/n!" your brain screams to you, so you blurt out. "vernon, i have something to tell you." vernon moves his hand away from you and sits up. "me too. but you go first." he doesn't break eye contact, and you can see the way he's biting his lip and fidgeting with his hands. symptoms of nervousness, you recall from your psych class. why is he nervous? "no, you go first, nonie."

he raises his eyebrows for confirmation and you nod. then he gulps before answering, "i like you, y/n." "what?" "i know i- fuck, i swear i'm not a creep. i swear i didn't start this fake ruse with you because i like you. hell, i didn't even know then that i liked you." "then, when?" " i realised it last night. but i think it wasn't even like a epiphany per se. just a realisation.... and a way to label some feelings that have been occupying my heart recently."

dear god, help me. you cry out silently for help, because fuck, he looks so earnest right now. so soft, so genuine, his words stunted with how fast he's speaking and his eyes a little dazzled in that on-brand look only vernon can pull off as cute. "nonie, are you serious?" he nods his head fervently. "i am. and i know this may be overwhelming, so you don't have to respond to me right now. but if you do want to reject me, you can tell me right away, i won't be-"

thinking about best friend's older brother!vernon who didn't see this coming in any of his mind's versions of how his confession would go

but it's certainly the best version when he feels your lips press against his. you pull away almost instantly, and he asks, "y/n?" you don't reply immediately, your eyes cast downwards to your hands. "y/n-ah? did you mean that?" after a long pause, he finally hears you squeak back, "yes, nonie. i- i wanted to try it and see what it felt like."

oh. so it was an experiment. well, that's manageable- although vernon doesn't think he'll ever forget the way your lips feel. "y/n-ah if you want to leave, you can. you don't have to-" but you don't let him continue. you kiss him again, pressing your wet, warm, soft lips against his own, and his hands find their way towards you. one of his hands settle on your cheek, and the other on your waist, and he pulls you nearly on top of him as he kisses you back hungrily.

they're all chaste kisses, until you open your mouth slightly and he takes the opportunity to let his tongue roam inside your mouth. but he underestimates you, you quickly suck on his tongue, making him moan out as he pulls back, breathless. "y/n, you've gotta tell me what this means. i can't keep kissing you without any clue of your feelings."

"do you need me to say it aloud, nonie?" "yes? please!" you pout slightly, as if offended by his demand. but then you whisper, "i like you too, nonie. i just wanted to see if my suspicions are real or just a figment of my imagination because you're so perfect." "perfect? har-" "no, you are. and that's not a recent discovery of mine. i've known it forever. you are too perfect to be real, vernon."

and that does it for vernon. the floodgates of his heart burst open, and all the feelings he'd been suppressing for so long flood into his system. it makes him warm and tingly all over, and he leans it to cup your cheeks. "you're the one who's perfect for me y/n-ah. i wasn't wrong all those years ago, you know. you are the woman i've always wanted to marry." you giggle shyly and hide your face in his chest, and vernon knows he's found his soulmate in you.

[papergirllife]

Lee Jeno (M)

fratboy!Jeno x reader

Synopsis:

Jeno has a past that holds him back from what life could potentially offer him, and one of those, he thinks, is you.

WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, FEEL FREE TO BLOCK ME IF YOU'RE UNCOMFORTABLE

warnings: minor character death (in the past), themes of grief and moving on, tooth-rotting fluff, Jeno being down bad but he was sort of an ass for a bit, crying during sx, sp@nking, mc's a masoch1st (kinda), body worship, unprotected sx, 0verstimulation, oral sx.

The music resonates the walls of the dingy frat house as Jeno makes his way through hordes of people on the dance floor, trying his best to squeeze through drunk college students to get to the kitchen, he's too goddamn sober to handle this amount of people as a self proclaimed, he checked his MBTI, obviously, introvert.

“Jeno! Finally made your way down from your room! Finally done studying?” Chenle asks on the top of his voice, clearly a little more than just tipsy, seeing how Jisung's the one making drinks right now, which the latter offers, but Jeno declines, he wants some alcohol to get him going, not blackout drunk, he still needs to get to his quiz in the afternoon tomorrow.

“I don't have much choice, not even the earplugs work against Johnny hyung’s speakers,” Jeno says with a sigh, looking out at the living area, this is going to be a long night, he thinks to himself.

“I told you to get the ones from that brand, they're only slightly pricier, you know,” Chenle chides, the irony, coming from the international student, but he knows his friend means well.

“They're out of my budget, it's fine, I started earlier just to get it done before this party anyways, I'll see you guys later, if you're not passed out by the pool that is,” Jeno jokes as he pours himself a mixture of whiskey and coke.

“Very funny, Lee, even if Mark leaves me out there in the cold, I know Jisung would save me, right bro?!”

Jeno doesn't hear what Jisung has to say, merely chuckling to himself as he makes his way through the crowd once more.

The worn out couch sinks as Jeno takes his seat, he watches as Jaemin talks about something animatedly with bombastic gestures and his tone pitched higher, he's going to be the perfect kindergarten teacher after he graduates being an education major and all, then there's Shotaro, watching wide eyed, engrossed in whatever tale Jaemin is telling, he's going to miss this, Jeno notes to himself, sighing at the fact that his sophomore year has begun and in a year's time he's going to say goodbye to all of this.

“Renjun said you'd be studying, didn't expect to see you tonight,” you say as you take the empty spot next to Jeno, Renjun on your side, you've always been his beloved little sister, Renjun is tiny, but for you? He'd pack a punch any time, his last victim was a 6 feet guy who was too handsy for his liking and dude ended up with a broken nose, he broke a finger too, but no one mentions that unless they want to end up in the same fatal tragedy.

“Finished studying, so I thought I'd come down here and join the rest of you,” and maybe because he wanted to see you too, not that he'd ever admit that, to himself or others, he has no right to delve into these emotions, it wouldn't be fair to you or her.

“Wow Jeno, no need to brag about your smarts like that, all of us know you're the top of the department,” you joke with a nudge of your shoulder, and with that slight movement, your thin cardigan slips down your smooth shoulder, revealing the strap of your tank top.

“Says the one that doesn't need to study and still passes,” Jeno retorts as he lets his eyes linger for a bit, before he decides to finally scoop up the collar section of your cardigan, covering your shoulder once again, and from the corner of his eye, he sees Renjun watching him.

“That's because I only aim to pass, unlike mister high achiever here, and I'm not cold, don't worry,” you say, but regardless, your body naturally inches closer to his, his warmth seeping through his bomber jacket has you hooked.

“Enough about me, what about you? What type of content are you shooting next?” Jeno asks, you're an almost full time influencer, the only reason you're still in college is because you want to get the degree as plan b, and Jeno, one of the few with a car, secondhand from his sister, always offers to drive you and sits through shootings with you, whether it be a trip to Olive Young or the newest cafe on the block.

“Probably gonna try doing those ‘a day in my life as a college student’ vlogs cuz some of my followers have been asking, but I'm not sure, it's a lot of work to film, might just end up going through my PR boxes instead or a review of this lip balm I've been looking for an excuse of getting,” you joke, knowing you, Jeno knows you're gonna get it and review it regardless, unless it's sold out, then he'd be one of the firsts to hear about your complaints.

“I could hold the camera if you want to,” Jeno offers, he always does, and you knew he would, it's why you asked in the first place.

“Thank you, my sweet assistant, knew I could always count on you,” you say before booping Jeno’s scrunched up nose, he always does that when you call him that, very textbook Taurus of him.

“Hey Jeno! Wanna play beer pong with us?” a girl comes up to him over the back of the sofa, tapping on his shoulder, probably his coursemate or something.

“Sure, I'll see you around, let me know when you wanna film, I'll see when I'm free,” Jeno says before giving you a little wave, following the girl to the beer pong area, and everyone knows she's going to end up inviting her to his bed, whether you like it or not.

“Since I'm not drinking tonight and I'm not a smoker, I'm craving Shin noodles, anyone want some?” you ask as you smooth down your skirt, you're gonna borrow your brother's apron, god knows you're one clumsy bitch and you love this mini skirt you searched high and low for, the things you do for a shushu tong dupe.

“Did someone say Shin noodles? I'm down,” is the first thing Mark says when he finally joins your friends’ little section, sex hair and a rumpled shirt triggering a few snickers.

“Sure, Markie, you should probably tidy your hair though,” you say before ruffling it up further, quickly making your way to the kitchen after, distantly, you hear Jaemin’s laughter ringing out even with the loud music playing still.

When you’re cooking the noodles, someone walks in, out of the corner of your eye, you see a familiar mane of orange hair.

“Hi Yang Yang, want noodles?” you could probably look for another pot if he wants some, you're sure Renjun stocked up some extra pots here, and even if he didn't, you're sure Taeyong did.

“I'd be down for your noods, if you know what I mean,” he answers coyly, his hand resting at your waist as he attaches himself to your side, watching you separate the noodles to cook them faster.

“Very funny, I'm on day 6 still, so thanks but no thanks, bud,” you reply, patting him on the hand at your side before you turn off the heat.

“Damn, talk about bad timing, no wonder you're craving for noodles, I'll just have a bit of yours, who's sharing with us? I'll go out and call them in, you can take the bowls out and stuff ” Yang Yang offers.

“Mark, he's at the sitting area,” you say before you feel Yang Yang leave your side, you carefully move the pot before fetching the bowls and utensils, grabbing the big thongs and ladle, you quickly get yourself a small portion, almost moaning at the familiar spiciness that ignites your taste buds in the best way possible.

“Wow, thanks bro,” Mark says, eyes lighting up at the sight of food, quickly fetching his own portion.

The two boys start talking about the latest NBA match while you eat in peace, you love eating while chatting up with friends, but you cherish having one on one moments savouring the food you're eating, Jeno calls you weird for that, but maybe that's because he keeps having that dry chicken breast for meals.

“Oh, if you guys want to fuck, you need to hurry up cuz Renjun just left with this girl not too long ago, and you know how he is,” Mark informs,

Renjun’s very particular about sleeping conditions with his one night stands, one time he was willing to pay extra for hailing a cab at 2am because he was sick of the artificial vanilla scent of this girl's diffuser.

“Not tonight, crimson rain's still in season,” you joke before getting more noodles into your bowl, meanwhile Yang Yang's stopped eating, he was just craving for a little taste.

“Oop, that explains the noodles, too bad for you dude, maybe Yuta hyung would have more luck,” Mark jokes, he always liked joking about how you got a roster of boys lining up at your doorstep, when in reality you're always bouncing between Yuta and Yang Yang.

“He got her last time, I gotta make my move faster this time,” Yang Yang says with a groan, putting down his chopsticks, having had enough of his fill.

“l'll let you know when I'm done, how about that, you whiny baby,” you tease, pulling his ear playfully.

Yang Yang cheers from his seat before getting up to wash his bowl.

“See you when the sky's sunny, baby, and Mark, basketball tomorrow afternoon, right?” Yang Yang bids the two of you goodbye, probably off to find another girl or game with Hendery.

“He's not bad, you know, simple minded dude,” Mark suddenly suggests, scooping more noodles then soup into your bowl before you put your hand up to stop him, that's enough noodles for tonight.

“He's alright, but I'm not looking for a relationship right now,” both of you know you're lying through your teeth, but it's the answer that won't stir anything up, you enjoy the dynamic you share with the boys, you're not gonna risk it, not that your feelings would ever be reciprocated.

“What about Yuta then? Is he more your type than Yang Yang?” Mark asks, always looking out for your heart, more than you ever did for yourself at least, which is almost the same for all your friends.

“Maybe, but no, he's not looking for a relationship either,” you explain, this time, not a white lie.

“Yuta thinks you're cool, I'm sure he'd be down to try if you showed interest,” Mark tries his best to convince you.

“I don't think I can watch idly if he looks at a girl with some neon-coloured box dye hair a little longer, I'd be seething, I need someone who's 100% down bad,” you say, trying to deflect the topic at hand.

“Alright, alright, I'll let you be, I'll get back to you when I think of someone new,” Mark says, not giving up on playing matchmaker.

“Have fun playing cupid with that terrible aim, Markie,” you tease before saying goodnight to him, planning on spending the rest of the night alone rewatching this k drama you love.

You were about to text Yeri, your roommate and bestie who had came with you, but upon opening your chat room with her, you realise she has once again ditched you for a boy she found. Oh well, guess you're just gonna crash in your brother's room, Renjun’s room is slightly bigger than most of the rooms in the house because you had once stayed here for a brief period of time when you were in between rentals, so there's space to fit in one more super single in his room, albeit a slightly tight fit, but at least you get to steal your brother's skincare for the night.

On your way to Renjun’s room, you bumped into Yang Yang once more in the hallway.

“Hey! Wanna game with us for a bit? It's just me and Hendery, we're playing COD,” he offers with that bright smile of his which strangely enough, reminds you of Lightning Mcqueen from the Cars cartoon.

“I don't know, Yang, I kinda suck at it,” you would love to have a switch from mobile to Xbox, but not at the expense of potentially ruining someone's game night.

“Come on, we're chill, Hendery dies all the time anyways,” Yang Yang insists, a hand on your back, steering you to his shared room, “but don't tell Hendery I said that,” he whispers by your ear before Hendery turns around to greet you.

“Yo! Nice of you to join us, Ten ditched us for the night so it's nice to have three players again,” Hendery exclaims, enthusiastically passing you the remote.

“Why aren't you guys partying like the rest of the frat?” you ask while picking a character.

“Parties are here every week, this one's kinda boring so might as well game the night away,” Hendery explains before noting how you're an urban tracker girlie.

And after two matches with the boys, you have to agree with the sentiment.

Jeno throws on a simple sweater before leaving his room to go get some water for himself and the girl on his bed, but something catches his eye from the other end of the hallway, it's you and Yang Yang, cosying up outside his room, Jeno’s fist clenched up when he sees you following into his room, he knows you sleep around casually, but he rarely ever catches sight of it, and it leaves a bitter taste on his tongue.

The party is finally starting to phase out, most of the partygoers are either passed out on the couch, or the unfortunate ones, by the pool or at the lawn. The frat members themselves are mostly gone, either retreated into their own respective rooms or have gone back with someone, so Jeno hadn't expected himself to bump into anyone when he came in to fetch two bottles of water.

“Why do you look like you want to squeeze the life out of those bottles, dude? Was tonight's lay not good enough for you or something?” Haechan asks, car keys dangling from his hand, he must've come in through the backdoor instead of the front, he once had someone puke on his Nike shoes so he isn't taking any chances anymore.

“Nothing, go to sleep,” Jeno deflects, god knows he doesn't need Haechan nosing into his business, which he has a reputation of doing so.

“When you're this pissed off it's usually either you fucked up a test or… is it her?” Haechan didn't even need to emphasise on who's the her when Jeno threatens to throw his half full bottle at him before he was stopped by Jaemin who had come in to dispose of some of the trash he had cleaned up from the living area.

“Jaemin ah, Jeno’s bullying me again!” Haechan whines moving to hide behind Jaemin’s wide frame.

“Stop provoking him and you'd be fine, now go, you're lucky I'm here to take the trash out,” Jaemin says before he ushers his bratty friend out of their kitchen.

“As much as you don't want to hear this, Haechan does have a point,” Jaemin says as he sorts the trash into different recycle bins, “she's not going to be single forever, and I know you love Eunbi, but it's been years, she wouldn't want to see you like this,” Jaemin explains with his most motherly tone that he dishes out unconsciously at times.

Eunbi was Jaemin’s cousin sister and Jeno’s girlfriend from 15 to 17, she passed away suddenly due to a drunk driving accident, and from that day onwards, Jeno has never really been the same again, he swore off the possibility of loving someone again, until you came into his life, his restraint wavering bit by bit as you take up his heart, piece by piece.

Jeno’s hand rises to his chest to feel the familiar butterfly charm hanging on his necklace, Nabi, he used to call her, because she used to love butterflies and also because they rhyme with her name, this necklace is Jeno’s only significant remembrance of her, other than their shared memories.

“I don't have any feelings for anyone, so it doesn't matter,” Jeno brushes off the topic with ease, he's had a lot of practice, and quickly leaves the kitchen.

With a defeated sigh, Jaemin watches his best friend go, hoping that one day soon, he'd be able to finally move on from Eunbi.

Another week passes and the weekend rolls around quicker than expected, Yuta was in the kitchen pouring himself a drink, spiked punch of some sort that Taeyong whipped up, some people got too drunk for his liking last week, so now he’s doing it himself before Chenle or Jisung gets the chance to.

“Oh, Yuta-ah, can you go and play with the kids? You know how truth and dare gets, and I don’t trust Johnny to be responsible, he’s always been such an instigator,” Taeyong says with a shake of his head, as he measures the vodka down to the tiniest drop.

“And you think I’d be the perfect candidate to keep an eye on them?” Yuta asks in disbelief.

“I trust that you’d do as I say for once, Yuta, the others are all still studying for their finals, just this once?” Taeyong asks, and how could Yuta say no when his best friend pulls out the big boba eyes.

Yuta sighs when he sees the sight of Jisung putting a whole dollop of wasabi in his mouth, but he can’t help but laugh when the youngest rushes to the bathroom before he inserts himself in the circle in between you and Mark.

“You’re playing?” Shotaro asks, already perking up at the idea of his big giving away bits and pieces of himself, Yuta isn’t exactly an open book, so he's excited to learn more about him.

“Yup, Taeyong told me to keep an eye on you scoundrels,” Yuta says before he catches Johnny’s eyes, the latter barking out a laugh, Yuta also notes how Jeno was seated next to his friend, he must be here because you’re here, maybe Yuta won’t keep his promise after all.

Things go by uneventfully other than some truths being spilled and Jaemin being told to twerk in the middle of the circle, which he was more than happy to do, however, when he was done his eyes landed on you, and because you’ve been saying truth for a few turns now, you switch it up by saying dare, and honestly, he knows all the truths because all these boys ask are things in the bedroom, taking advantage of the fact that Renjun is absent tonight, so things weren’t all that interesting, but now, Yuta’s interest is piqued.

“I dare you to make out with the hottest person playing,” Xiao Jun suggests, which garnered some groans, Yuta snickers next to you, Yang Yang isn’t here, so things are very much predictable.

You smooth down your skirt before you circle the men around you, eyes lingering on Jeno for a bit too long, the ones that know watch intently, but when you stop in front of Johnny, gasps ring out around the circle, cheers started erupting when squat in front of Johnny, the surprise on his face was evident, cute even if you’re honest, you’re glad you chose to be chaotic tonight, the panic in his eyes had you giggling, breath hitched when you lean in place a chaste peck on his cheek, when you lean away, and did a quick turn back to facing Yuta, Johnny barks out a laugh, while the rest of them back to groaning, you catch a few of them saying that they knew you were just playing them.

Yuta extends his arms, a knowing smile on his face. His eyes take in your plump lips coated in his favourite cherry lip gloss.

“Someone’s been stirring trouble, haven’t you?” Yuta says before he feels your hands tangled in long hair, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jeno glaring at him, Jaemin watching nervously where he’s seated.

“I’m always down for trouble when it’s you,” you retorted before you seal your lips with his, climbing into his lap, the familiar bulge of his belt buckle digging into your pelvic and the feeling of of his hands enveloping your thighs sends a shiver up your back, and you couldn’t help yourself, grinding into his crotch, the material of your skirt covering most of your movements, but Yuta could feel everything, smiling against your lips, before he pulls away from you, he could feel his cock twitching at the sight of your dazed eyes and swollen lips.

“Show’s over, I’m taking this one up,” Yuta announces, carrying you away from the shameless group of frat boys that were watching, it’s not their first time, but their curiosity never satiates.

“Damn it, now I need to be the chaperone,” Johnny says begrudgingly.

Jaemin’s silent as he watches his best friend fume in his spot, with a sigh, he cracks a bottle of soju he placed next to him before the game started, passing it to Jeno, the latter taking a huge swig, not long after, Jeno opts out of the game to look for a distraction for the night.

Your eyes flutter when you wake, the sun shining from Yuta’s opened blinds, his body warm under yours, his arm tossed over your waist which you remove to go wash up in his ensuite bathroom, the good thing about sleeping over at Yuta’s.

When you’re done, Yuta’s still sleeping away, you close his blinds for him, he’d probably want to sleep longer, he finished his finals not too long ago, he should be getting more rest.

So you put on your skirt from last night and stealing a sweater from his closet before you padded down to the kitchen, opening the fridge to fetch some ingredients for a basic omelette, spinach and eggs.

“There's still some leftover cranberry juice from last night,” Jeno says, startling you from stirring the omelette in your pan.

“Oh, nice, could you pour me a glass?” you ask, “if you want an omelette then you can fetch me more eggs and spinach, I'll make it,” you add on.

“Thank you,” Jeno says, handing you the ingredients after washing and chopping the spinach.

Soon after, the two of you are sat across each other on the island, joking about last night’s events, from the part where Haechan was dared to take off his shirt and go out for a quick run in the cold till the part where Jaemin had twerked in the circle and had accidentally shoved his ass at a very confused Jaehyun who had just finished a round of beer pong and wanted to see what was happening in the truth or dare circle, conversation was going smoothly and lighthearted until it wasn’t, by then the two of you have finished eating and Jeno’s washing the dishes.

“So you and Yuta…” Jeno trails off, his gaze absent, his fingers holding the fork rather tightly, knuckles white from the restricted blood flow.

“It’s nothing serious,” you brush off absently, you’re not lying, what you and Yuta have is strictly no strings attached, but if the lines were more blurred…you wouldn’t have minded if Jeno hadn’t holed up a place in your heart.

Jeno nods, unconvinced, or maybe he’s just blinded by jealous rage.

“Jeno?” your voice yanks Jeno away from the many images of you and Yuta holding hands and kissing, a scene cruller than what he had witnessed last night, but he bites his tongue from saying anything, not when he still has Eunbi’s necklace hanging on his neck, it wouldn’t be fair to any of you if he acts on his urges.

“Yeah?” Jeno grunts out, he didn’t mean to sound mean, but he can’t help it, just the thought of you and Yuta being something more just pisses him off, he isn’t even worried about Yang Yang, he knows you go to him for pure casual fun, you can never settle with a guy like that, he could tell you crave someone who has a natural leading aura, and that’s why he’s so down bad, the way your eyes light up when he helps you with something as simple as carrying your bag or ordering your food, every time he does something for you, he could feel his heartstrings tugging painfully.

“Jeno, if you have something to say, then say it,” you say, you don’t know why you’re feeling so confrontational today, but it’s been two years of running in circles around Jeno, and honestly, you’re tired, and maybe this would send your friend group into a catharsis, but you can’t keep tiptoeing your feelings around Jeno anymore, not when he obviously knows how you feel.

Jeno shuts the tap off before turning to face you, and something breaks inside him when he sees the conflicted look swimming in your pupils, and at that moment, he wants to wipe it away, and so he makes the mistake of pulling you close by the waist, sealing his lips with yours, and Jeno hasn’t felt this alive since a long time, he could feel all the nerves on his lips igniting like a dying flame miraculously being sparked till they’re a blazing wildfire, and the way his hands wrap around your waist, the warmth of your body rekindles a physical craving he’s never felt before with anyone else he used as a distraction of the loss of Eunbi. Eunbi, no-

Your heart shatters when Jeno pushes you away, searching his eyes for an explanation, but Jeno has his eyes closed, he looks too calm, taking a deep breath as if that kiss was merely a simple mistake, you’ve seen him act more emotional when he doesn’t receive his desired grade for a paper, are you nothing to him?

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” Jeno mutters through gritted teeth, eyes avoiding yours at all cost.

“Is that it? That’s all you have to say to me, Jeno? That our kiss was merely a mistake? Don’t tell me what you feel all this time is also some sort of fucking misjudgement, Jeno!” you lash out, venom in your tone as you throw out punches on his sturdy chest, and what made you angrier was that he let you hurt him, like he doesn’t even bother defending or protecting himself from your lethal accusation, you can’t even call him a coward, a coward wouldn't stand there and let you do as you please.

Fortunately for Jeno, Jaemin comes to his rescue, detaching your agitated figure away from his friend, trying his best to calm you down with sweet nothings, that you’re better off, that Jeno’s being an idiot, but the damage has been dealt, there’s nothing that can make you feel better, but you guess you expected this, you had too much faith in Jeno.

“I’m so disappointed in you, Jeno,” you say before you take your leave, casting one more disappointed look at Jeno, and at that moment, the man that you’ve always thought looked so broad in your eyes now looks like the smallest man who’s ever lived.

Jaemin sighs when he no longer sees you within sight, Jeno heaves out a shudder of breath, he could tell his friend was trying his best to hold himself up in front of you, how quintessential of Jeno, never letting anyone into the depths of his mind.

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Jeno,” Jaemin mutters as he checks for bruises under Jeno’s shirt, but Jeno brushes his hand away, rolling his sweater back down, even if you did bruise him, he deserved it for what he keeps putting you through, “Jeno, Eunbi wouldn’t have want to see you this way, she would’ve wanted to see you happy, not punishing yourself like this, she would’ve wanted you to move on, Jeno, you think she’d like seeing you wallowing in self loathing?” Jaemin says in a huff, he’s tried spelling this out in a kinder way to his best friend, but it doesn’t seem to get through that thick skull of his.

Jeno doesn’t answer, he just dodges his friend’s attempts of wanting to talk more, locking himself inside his room, wishing that the remorse, guilt, and heartbreak would just swallow him up. He hates himself for betraying Eunbi, even if it was just a mere kiss, contemplating on what Jaemin had said, could he really move on without feeling guilty as sin?

The cold wind prickles Jeno’s skin, his worn out padding not doing much to block the harshest of the weather, cursing to himself as he climbs down the stairs, not a single person in sight at this period and this hour, and then he sees it, the familiar tombstone, he sighs in relief as he takes in the sight of Eunbi’s tiny photo on the slab.

Fishing out a small cloth from his jean pocket, he wipes the photo of Eunbi before he wipes away the dust atop the tombstone and the dust on the slab of stone where he sits whenever he visits.

“I’ve missed you,” Jeno says as he places down a bouquet of roses, Eunbi loves roses, he calls it cliche, she says it’s because she loves how roses are one of the flowers that attract butterflies the most.

“I used to think I would get the opportunity to grow old with you, a house, a car, and maybe two kids, the cliche, but,” Jeno stops himself, swallowing the lump down his throat before he continues, “I guess those weren't in the cards for us in this lifetime,” Jeno says before exhaling a long sigh, “but sometimes I do think, would we have really gone on our entire lives? Would we have broken up along the road? Those 2 years of loving you, and spending my whole childhood with you by my side were beautiful, and every single day without you by my side was a living hell, but when I thought nothing could really bring me back to life, I met someone, and I feel so fucking guilty towards you, and I don't know if I'm supposed to feel what I'm feeling for her, I love you, and I always will, but I can't deny what I'm feeling for her either, so now I'm here, Eunbi-ah, please tell me what should I do, if you told me to wait till my dying days to reunite with you, I will, please just give me a sign,” Jeno pleads hopelessly, a hand caressing the tiny photo of Eunbi.

Just then, a tiny flutter of wings catches his eye, and a butterfly lands on the bouquet of roses in front of him.

‘Is this the sign I’m asking for?’ Jeno asks himself, but when he tries to sit closer for a clearer look, the butterfly flies away with a quick flutter of its wings, the bright yellow contrasting the cloudy sky.

“Are you telling me to move on too, Eunbi-ah?” Jeno says with a long sigh, next life, maybe things would be different then.

After watching the sunset with Eunbi, Jeno drove home and immediately stormed into Jaemin's room, his friend was busy watching cat videos when he interrupted him, not a surprising thing for him to do honestly.

“What’s up?” Jaemin asks, swivelling his gaming chair to face his friend who had made himself comfortable on his bed.

“I need advice,” Jeno said, which earned him one of his friend’s classic menace smiles which makes him look like the Grinch.

You have no plans today, you had just finished having pizza with Yeri, your roommate slash bestie announcing that you needed a self care day after the shit storm a certain someone put you through.

Suddenly, your doorbell rings, Yeri’s in the bathroom, so you get the door, assuming that she ordered dessert in advance without telling you, but to your shock, it was Jeno, and in his hands are supermarket flowers that he used to joke were overpriced for its minimal packaging.

“I’m sorry for everything, I was a coward and an emotionally constipated asshole, and I know I don’t deserve a second a chance, but if you’d give me the chance, I promise I’ll try my best not to fuck up, and if I do, I’ll promise I’ll make it up to you,” Jeno says, pleading his case with you, everyone often jokes about how Jeno looks like a samoyed, but right now, he looks like a puppy with the way his eyes are trained on you, analysing your every movement and flicker of expression, awaiting your verdict.

“You’re not an asshole for taking your time to mourn and move on from Eunbi, but Jeno, are you sure you’re ready to jump into a relationship? I know you still miss her dearly, and it was mean of me to ask so much from you, you don’t have to be with me if you’re doing this out of guilt, Jeno, I don’t want your pity,” you explain, you don’t want to see the sight of his guilty eyes whenever you’re with him, it would crush your soul to bits, to never have his heart entirely.

“No, I’m serious, I thought things through and realised that I can miss her and love the moments I had with her and still move on to the next chapter of my life, I used to think to love her means I shouldn’t allow anyone in my heart, but Jaemin’s right, she wouldn’t have wanted to see me like this, and I know you wouldn’t want to see me like this either, I want to give us a chance, I’m sorry I came to my senses so late, I hope it’s not too late,” Jeno says, his heart aches when he sees rivulets of tears stream down your face, he places the flowers on the bench next to him before he extends his arms to you, and he sighs in content when he feels your arms around him, your face buried in his chest, he reaches a hand up to pat your head, comforting you.

“Well, I just got a text from Joy that she wants to grab drinks, so I’m gonna head out, you two talk things out on your own, call me if you need anything,” Yeri says before she takes her leave, wanting to give the two of you privacy.

Jeno directs the two of you to the living room, plopping the two of your conjoined bodies onto the couch.

“Hey… don’t cry for me, I’m not worth it,” Jeno says, his hands wiping away your tears with the back of his hand. You choked up a laugh through your tears, swaying your head sideways.

“It’s not that, I’m just, I already accepted the idea of not having you, and now that you’re here… I’m just, surprised– but glad,” you confessed, god, you hate crying for a man, but at least the fool in this fable gets her happy ending after all.

“I’m glad too, sweetheart. I wouldn’t have been mad in the slightest if you said no, but thank you, thank you for giving me this chance,” Jeno says as he wraps you up in his arms, and he feels you sink into hold, and that’s how the two of you fall asleep on your bed that night.

‘Come earlier, I have a surprise for you ;)’

You smile to yourself when you see the text from Jeno, wondering if he got you the new grapes that are in season or something. When you got there a few hours earlier, the house was relatively empty, partygoers aren't here yet and only a few freshmen were setting up the place for the frat party. You let yourself in Jeno’s room, surprised to see that it’s empty, but soon you hear light footsteps pad into the room before your eyes are being covered by a familiar pair of hands.

“What grand surprise do you have for me, Jeno?” you ask, turning around, his hands drop from your face, but you keep your eyes closed, not wanting to spoil the surprise on his behalf.

“Wait, one sec, okay, now you can open your eyes,” Jeno says excitedly.

You peered your eyes open and a gasp left your lips.

“Oh my god, it’s blue!” you say, not believing your eyes, your hands reach out to touch his hair, not fried from the bleach dye, thankfully.

“Wanted to have something fresh to mark the start of our relationship, and seeing my hair on those filters you put on me gave me the idea of dyeing my hair,” Jeno explains, “do you like it?” he tapers off, a bit insecure because you look like you love it, but you haven’t said anything to confirm it yet.

“I love it,” you say as you turn his head from side to side to get a better look at the entire haircut with a giant smile on your face.

“Let me take a quick shower and get dressed then we can head down,” Jeno says with a quick peck before he retrieves his things and leave for the bathroom, leaving you to your devices, or moreso Jeno’s devices, you love watching concert videos on his screen, that expensive hunk of equipment is clearer than your vision.

However, halfway through watching old concert videos, you took notice of his drawer not being closed all the way, out of curiosity, you open it to see what it stores, and to your shock, a jewellery box is the first thing you see, the box design tells you that it isn’t anywhere near brand new.

Maybe you shouldn’t be snooping around, but you couldn’t help yourself, Jeno never gets mad at you, he even tells you his phone password, he has nothing to hide, and so you pry the box open with gentle hands.

The glint of the perfectly preserved crystals caught your eye, then you recognise the shape of the pendant, butterfly, Jeno used to wear this ever since Eunbi passed, why isn’t he wearing it anymore? Did he think you’d mind that he did? That wasn’t the impression you wanted to give off, there’s no point being jealous of someone who’s no longer here, that’s just absurd.

“Oh, you found her old necklace,” Jeno notes with no malice in his voice despite the fact that you feel yourself jumping slightly at the sound of his voice.

“I, I saw your drawer wasn’t closed all the way and just wanted to check it out, sorry,” you apologised, but Jeno quickly brushes off your apology with a reassuring smile, “why aren’t you wearing it anymore? It’s not like I’d get jealous,” you say, scared that the reason he felt like he was obliged to stop wearing it was because of your relationship.

“I know you won’t get jealous, and I didn’t take it off like right after you said yes, I just thought it was time a few days ago, to put some things to rest, I’ll look back on these things from time to time, but I think it’s time to put some distance for me to move forward,” Jeno explains as his hands are laid on your shoulders, the weight and the brush of his thumbs comforting you.

“I’m just worried you’re rushing things for me,” you reason.

“I’m not, so don’t worry,” Jeno assures once again, “how about we go down now?” Jeno suggests after hearing the music starting from below, you agree instantly, maybe you’re just too stressed about everything, a drink sounds amazing now.

“Look who just made their long awaited debut,” Jaemin said at the sight of the two of you making way to the usual spot your friend group usually sits at.

Jeno tenses up when Renjun meets his eyes, his best friend had given him a long talk when he had heard from you that Jeno finally came around, needless to say, Jeno would never want to get on his best friend’s bad side, he’s sure he would manage to beat him up despite being much shorter than him.

Distantly, Jeno could hear you tell Jaemin to shut up before there’s too much attention placed on you and Jeno, your skin is thick, but you know Jeno doesn’t like too much attention on him, hence with a little more teasing, your friends switch topics, and just like that things are back to normal, a bit too normal for your liking, because soon, a girl makes her way to Jeno to ask for a dance, but your boyfriend quickly declines and explains that he won’t be casually hooking up with anyone anymore.

Even though you were silent the entire interaction, Jeno could see the jealousy in your eyes and the way you immediately downed a shot of soju.

“Someone’s jealous?” Jeno asks, clearly amused by the sight in front of him, pulling you closer into his embrace, he doesn't want anyone eavesdropping on a conversation where you could possibly feel vulnerable.

“Nope, not at all,” you say briskly, clearly overcompensating, dodging his kiss, Jeno laughing at your antics.

“Okay, whatever you say,” Jeno says, letting you be.

Although unfortunately for Jeno, things get a twist of events when he sees Yang Yang waving to you from afar with a smile too friendly for his liking when the two of you were swaying to the beat on the dance floor, and you quickly see your samoyed of a boyfriend turn into a doberman right in front of your eyes, gone was the puppy eyes that are quickly replaced by the obvious glare in his eyes.

“Looks like someone's jealous,” you tease, playing with the freshly cut ends of his hair at his nape.

“Let's head up, party sucks today,” Jeno says, pulling you by your hand, leading you upstairs to his room, quick on his feet but not fast to the point where you can’t keep up in your heels.

When the door shuts behind you, Jeno quickly kicks off his own shoes before he squsts down to slip off your heels for you, then immediately he tosses you over his shoulder as if you weigh as much as a feather, tossing you on his bed with a bounce before he climbs on the bed himself, his moves slow and calculative as if he was predator stalking its prey, behind his eyes, you can see the gears behind moving as he thinks of what to do with you, but when you reach up to touch his cheek, you see his eyes softening around the edges, the control you have over him sends a shudder down your spine, Jeno smiles at that realisation when he comes to the conclusion that if you asked, he’d relinquish all control over his life to you if you asked, he’s willing to give you all of him at your request, now that he knows life is fragile not to love wholeheartedly, but he knows what you want, and for now, at this moment, you want Jeno to guide you, but what he asks you catches you off guard.

“What’s your average kill in a match on codm?” he asks as he hovers over you, arms caging your body.

“What? I don’t know, like 15 if you’re asking about multiplayer,” you answer in a tone of disbelief.

Jeno has that familiar cunning mirth on his face when he reaches for your phone that you had previously placed on his nightstand so as to not get in the way when things get heated.

“You think you can reach your average while I eat you out?” Jeno asks as he passes you your phone.

You feel heat crawl up your face when you register his words, can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous he sounds, but you’ll indulge him.

“I’ll try my best, just for you,” you agree, but you know there’s more to his proposition.

“Before you say yes, there’s a catch, if you don’t get 15 kills, for every kill you lack is one spank,” Jeno says with a quirked brow, his eyes challenging you.

You don’t consider yourself competitive, but when it comes to a game you know you’re good at, it ignites the dormant competitiveness in you that you swear you outgrew as a teenager.

“Deal,” you agree, you’re gonna win either way, if you fail awfully at the game, you still get to get your back blown out regardless, and in Jeno’s words, you've always been a masochist, maybe just a little bit. There must be some truth to it since you were sleeping with Yuta of all people.

“Let me know when you start,” Jeno says as you open the app, telling him when the countdown begins, and quickly he takes off your skirt and panties to toss it to the side of his bed.

Jeno starts off slow, his index finger tracing your slit, starting from the bottom, it piques your interest, but it doesn’t take away your focus entirely, until his fingertip hits the bundle of your nerves, your breath hitches, but you still manage to get your third kill of the game.

You look so hot like this, all concentrated on your phone screen, not so different from how you usually game, other than the fact that you now have your bottom lip between your teeth to ground yourself, Jeno hears another three more kills when he decides to go in for the actual kill, leaning down to capture your clit between his lips, hollowing his lips as his fingers enters you, so fucking wet, god, Jeno, groans to himself, he can’t wait to be inside you, your cursing distracts Jeno from his train of filthy thoughts.

“Died?” Jeno asks before he dives back to his feast between your legs, he distantly hears you cursing at a sniper before he feels your legs twitching when he finally finds your sensitive spot, fingers curling upward, knowing that you usually cave in and ask him to fuck you at this point when you’re having regular foreplay.

You curse silently when you realise you lost count of how many kills you managed to secure, you haven’t gotten a single headshot in this match, and when the score limit reaches its end, you can feel the knot in your abdomen threatening to snap, and so you quickly toss your phone aside to grind back on Jeno’s face, his nose has always been such a good placeholder for your clit to hump on, and Jeno loves it, loves how debauched you are, he could just watch you use him to chase your orgasm all night if he wanted to, and when you finally reach your high, a whine of Jeno’s name reaches his ears as he feels your sexy legs wrap around his head and your juices burst in his mouth and the excess dripping down his forearm.

When you finally come back to your senses after ascending to heaven, you check your score on your screen, you breathe a sigh of relief, 11 kills, you proudly show Jeno your score.

“So four spanks, you want to sit through your punishment or would you prefer if I do it in between rearranging your guts?” Jeno offers, since you did so well for him.

You ponder over the suggestion, but the thought of needing to wait longer to get filled has you choosing the latter.

“I think I’d like to be surprised today,” you say before you strip off the rest of your clothing, Jeno’s eyes following every movement you make, licking his lips when he sees the slight jiggle of your tits as you move about, that is until you settle on all four, presenting yourself to him, and a beast claws at Jeno’s belly for a need to just take you.

It’s like you read his mind, because you tell him to just put it in, that you’re loose enough from the foreplay, you say as you spread your cheeks for him, the sight of your wet pussy has him losing all control, who is he to deny you when you’re presented so prettily for him like this? He’s no god, any man would crack under your ministrations.

So he doesn’t hold back, grasping his cock in one hand while he parts your folds with the other, cursing when he finally slips in your warm and wet hole, slowly sliding in till the hilt, he loves this process, loves the way you shudder when you feel him intrude your walls inch by inch, your lips parted as your head rests on his pillow.

When you’ve adjusted to his size, you whimper out a singular word, move, before you feel your whole world fizzle away as pleasure clouds your head at the first thrust, always rough when you need him to be, rough and fast, that’s Jeno’s preferred pace, quickly locating your sensitive spot with the thick tip of his cock that has you screaming into his pillow, but no matter how hard you try to muffle your voice, the headboard banging against the walls is dead giveaway of how you’re having your back broken by Jeno, but you throw all caution to the wind if it means you get feel the feeling of such ecstasy flowing through your whole body, you swear every time he drills his cock inside you, the more pleasure you feel, and the dumber you get, when all thoughts of sanity get replaced by the primal need to chase your high, your train of thoughts, or lack thereof since all you were thinking were the word ‘cock’ on repeat, gets broken by a harsh smack on your butt, it came out of nowhere, catching you off guard, and it shows by how your walls clench tightly on Jeno’s dick, your release coating his length.

“Fuck, you’re such a fucking pain slut, aren’t you? One smack has you cumming on my dick like some virgin,” Jeno spats out as he keeps fucking you, knowing that you’re extra sensitive after two orgasms upping his motivation to drive you absolutely mad.

Jeno quickly finds your clit, the poor thing swollen with the treatment Jeno previously put it through, rubbing circles on your bundle of nerves roughly, which has you bucking before he sends two smacks its way.

“Fuck,” you curse to yourself as you feel tears prickling the corner of your eyes, trying so hard not to cum from the pain, and in doing so, you clench around Jeno so hard that has him stop mid thrust to anchor himself, he still wants to get at least one more out of you before he cums.

He resumes after having a bit fun with fondling your tits, thanking gravity with the way he could feel the weight of them in his palm, he’s gonna have to suck on them after he’s done with this, he thinks to himself before he goes back to chasing his high, planting one of his feet on the ground to fuck you faster, and soon you could feel yourself cumming at any second, whispering how you’re close to Jeno, before you feel another spank being sent to your clit, the pain and the oversensitivity pushing you over the edge with a scream of Jeno’s name and a fist forming with the sheets on his bed.

“Fuck, love it when you squirt for me,” you hear Jeno distantly, not really registering his words until you feel your thighs being slicked with your release, which Jeno promptly cleans up with his pack of wet tissue he’s kept in his room by the dozen ever since he found out you’re squirter.

When the three towels are stripped from under you and into the hamper, Jeno finally joins you under his fluffy blanket, holding you close.

“I didn’t go too far right?” Jeno asks, he trusts that you will use your safeword if he ever goes over the limit, but he always does a final check in after you settle, just in case you drop into a vulnerable state where you need extra care and attention.

“No, of course not, I feel more than fine, but thank you for asking,” you say before pecking his lips sweetly.

“You hungry? Craving anything? I could check if the guys are getting delivery, see if you want anything,” Jeno offers, but you shake your head.

“Just want some cuddles and sleep, I’ll let you know what I’m craving for brunch tomorrow, but now, I need to recharge,” you say as you snuggle closer to Jeno, practically attached at the hip, but Jeno lets you, combing through your hair for you as you drift off to sleep.

Jeno was first to wake, quickly climbing out of bed to shut his blinds, knowing that you absolutely despise being blinded by the sun rays first thing in the morning, you’ve always been a night owl after all.

After washing up in the bathroom, he makes his way back to you, still sleeping, cuddled under his blankets, just like how he’s tucked you in before he left his room, you don’t move much in your sleep, Jeno notices as he climbs back in bed, it’s no wonder why you always remain in his arms the whole night.

Jeno looked over to his alarm clock to see that it’s almost 10am, he knows this is the time you prefer waking up, and when Jeno sees his blanket slipping off your shoulder to reveal your smooth skin, Jeno has the best idea on how to wake you up, and maybe, even the whole house if he does well enough, and well, unfortunately for the other people sleeping right now, Jeno’s always been a top scorer for anything he puts his mind to, Jeno chuckles to himself at the thought of being a menace as he makes his way under the blankets.

You’ve never had everyone giving you the stink eye before, well, at least not in this frat house, and the one who looks most annoyed is none other than Haechan, whose room is next door to Jeno’s.

“I swear to god, hearing them made my hangover even worse,” Haechan mutters, but loud enough for everyone at the breakfast table to hear, Johnny was the first one to laugh, Johnny had left the party early for a hookup hence the lack of a hangover, he had just got back in time for this comedy show.

“You’re laughing?! My head is still pounding from last night’s drinking and worsened by their shenanigans and you’re laughing?! God, why did Renjun have to get lucky last night, they always pull shit like this when he’s gone,” Haechan complains, or moreso whining, if you asked Jeno.

“Come on, Haechan-ah, it couldn’t have been that bad, I didn’t even hear a thing,” Sungchan says, coming to Jeno’s defence quickly, they’re coursemates after all, and Jeno is always a big help to him, he loves Haechan, but he’s doing this for his own good.

“Your room is on the other side of the house, of course you barely heard anything, she literally sounded like she was getting mauled by a wild animal, listen, let me try and recreate-

Two taps on Jeno’s lap has your boyfriend springing up from his seat with a deadly gaze and Haechan goes silent before he screams bloody murder, running for Jaemin or Mark, whoever he finds first, Sungchan sighs to himself while Johnny and Jungwoo laugh at the comedic scene in front of them, and you can’t help but laugh along with them too, Haechan might have tried making fun of you, but you know Jeno would always be there to silence him for you, and honestly, you could get used to this life you share with Jeno.

The end.

[skrrts]

just like that (oneshot)

✧ gn!reader x mingi & gn!reader & ex!yunho ✧ all three are university students close to graduation ✧ genre: non-idol, slice of life, exes to friends, friends to lovers, first kiss ✧ word count: 6,9k ✧ warnings: food/eating, woosan joke

You first met Yunho and his best friend at university, and when you and Yunho started dating, the three of you soon became inseparable. Even after the breakup, things didn't really change, but lately, Mingi seems a little more clumsy around you, and Yunho is quite eager to encourage some time alone between the two of you.

a/n: i just wanted to write something soft for this trope without any tension. just 3 silly university students trusting and supporting one another. also, i noticed that best!friend yunho is something i really like writing, he's just the best but don't worry, he might find love in the strangest of places himself.

Summer — the time for weeks of freedom without worrying about project deadlines and exams, or a chance to make some money to make your final year more memorable. It seemed strange how quickly time had flown by. Before you knew it, only two semesters remained until graduation. One year before you were expected to have it all figured out, with the rest of your life ahead and the comfortable years behind you.

You didn’t see it that way, no matter how much your parents urged you to plan for the next decade when you weren’t even ready to part with this very moment. University had been a wild time, not only because you switched majors, made many new friends, and had your first boyfriend. It was a time for you to just be, shaking off the awkwardness of high school and becoming your own person far from home.

It wasn’t an easy time, but looking back now, you were thankful for the experiences and the special people now in your life — one of them being Jeong Yunho.

It had been a cliché start: the cute boy sitting near you in the local library. You exchanged little glances that later turned into small, silly notes left in the books when one of you went to buy a bottle of water or pick up another book. Your first date was a walk through the park with milkshakes in hand, sharing stories about childhood, books, and nature.

You had never been in love before — not really. Sure, there were those high school relationships that didn’t last longer than a few weeks and were only meant to fit in. Everyone dated someone, so you had to as well.

Yunho made you feel what love was supposed to for the first time: he was always there without asking you to give up your free time. He helped you with projects and studying while ensuring you took breaks you’d have otherwise skipped. He even taught you how to properly take photos, with small weekend trips to nearby places.

More than once, the two of you were accompanied by Mingi, Yunho’s childhood and best friend. The two of them were always together if he wasn’t with you, and the deep level of trust between them was something you admired.

Yunho was always there, not only to support Mingi in the same ways he did with you but also as a mental aid during moments when someone who seemed as confident as Mingi struggled a little.

You loved spending time with both of them: Yunho, who was gentle and quick to understand, and Mingi, who was reckless and curious, always up for some nonsense but yearning for a bit of attention. It wasn’t rare for the two of you to tug him into the middle when watching Netflix horror movies because it was a little too intense, or he had a bad day. All of that felt natural, and within the year and a half you dated, people got used to the sight of the couple and the best friend showing up together at almost all events.

The day Yunho and you broke up, most people couldn’t believe it. In their eyes, there had never been any indicator of struggle or conflict because there was none. Nobody but the two of you understood it. When you were honest with yourselves, you quickly realized that after some time, you felt more like friends than lovers.

Sometimes, crushes were fleeting, and it seemed you made a better match as friends rather than lovers. Because it was a mutual agreement, nothing really changed, except for the absence of handholding and kisses. In fact, the friendship may have grown even stronger.

Unlike you, Mingi and Yunho didn’t live in a dorm but rented a small apartment about half an hour off campus. It was located in a building with a small convenience store and owned by a sweet lady who always complimented Yunho for his good manners. It was small; the two shared one bedroom, and there was only so much space, but you loved how comfortable and homely it felt with all the little details unique to the best friends, unlike a dorm with its limitations.

A small breeze from the window made the heat of the day a little more bearable. Mingi was quietly playing a playlist he made the other day while browsing on his phone, the gentle typing of Yunho’s keyboard added to the sound while you were simply hanging with your head forward off the couch, playing with your outdated Nintendo DS. It was difficult to tell whether you were too sentimentally connected to all those old games or refused to invest so much in a Switch. Maybe you were still waiting for your parents to change their minds about you being too old to play and gift you one for a special occasion.

“Did you read Hongjoong’s email about the graduation hoodies?” Yunho’s voice disturbed the silence and made you look up, a small sigh escaping as Link was overrun by evil little mushrooms.

It seemed like a good excuse to sit up, brushing back your hair as you opened the bottle to take the last few gulps of water, regretting you didn’t buy another one before coming upstairs.

“The design is really cool, a little flashy, but that makes sense considering how an art major designed them,” you hummed, remembering the unique design and choice of colors. Hongjoong graduated recently, but he had taken it upon himself to help the next round come up with a unique piece of clothing they’d always have to remember their time as students.

“Isn’t it a little too early?” Mingi muttered. “I mean, it’s still an entire year and quite a bit of money. I get it’s like a unique piece, never to be reproduced, but what if one of us doesn’t make it? Maybe we have to take another semester because we failed all important exams!”

Yunho frowned but there was a small smile on his lips: “Mingi, except for the one class you didn’t care for and which isn’t even required for your graduation, your grades have been really good and stable in the past two semesters. There’s no reason why you wouldn’t graduate with us.”

You pushed yourself up, walking over to his bed, tilting your head: “Exactly, there is no way we would let you fail any of them anyway, idiot. Did you forget? We all agreed once we were done, no matter what our families said, we’d go on this road trip together for one month!”

You grinned, arms crossed as you spoke of it fondly, the tickling sensation of excitement rushing through your body as you thought about it. Yunho came up with the idea when you planned one of your little weekend trips together, how it would be a sweet treat after all the work and stress this last year would bring. Maybe it was also a proper way to say goodbye to this part of your life.

You hadn’t decided yet, but there was a consideration of maybe moving abroad for a little, to see the world. Then, you couldn’t deny the idea of moving to the same city as your two friends and remaining close to your family was just as good.

“How could I forget? You forced me to practice setting up tents with you the other day,” he stuck out his tongue, leading you to grin.

“Well, that was part of the project and you said you’d help me in return for making that PowerPoint for you. Also, it’s a mandatory skill to know how to set up a tent. Think of all the times you will need it: road trips, music festivals, maybe you will be an uncle and your nephew wants to go camping in the garden.”

Yunho chuckled: “Y/N isn’t wrong. Now, how about the three of us worry a little less? Just make the order with the size and number you want. Hongjoong will leave for Tokyo soon and it makes sense he wants to get this done before, especially since production takes several months anyway.”

The tallest closed his notebook and stood up, stretching carefully. For a moment, he glanced over at the two of you like there was something else he wanted to say, but his eyes lingered on Mingi’s face, noticing how it was a little redder than usual and how his gaze was a little too long at you.

But you didn’t notice because you were busy rambling ahead, trying to encourage Mingi and reminding him how you believed in him. There was no way one of you would be left behind; you’d graduate together.

“Hey, Y/N. Mingi and I wanted to binge-watch this show together, you know the one we saw in the trailer? Want to join us?” Yunho asked casually, already busy collecting his laundry. As neat as he was with everything else, the home of the two boys was a bit of a mess at times, hinting they often spent little time there and left in a rush.

You blinked, turning around to him, index finger tapping against your cheek as you tried to recall what show he was talking about. Shared movie nights were quite common and there were too many releases to keep track of all of them. In the end, it wouldn’t matter. You had no other plans and the heat wasn’t too inviting to forcefully spend the evening outside either.

“Sure, sounds good. Do you want me to bring anything?” you stretched a little and started to shove your stuff back into your backpack. If you were going for a movie night, you’d likely stay over and it was nicer to wash up before and get some other things.

Yunho seemed to think about it: “Hm, I believe we have everything we need and besides, we live above a convenience store. But maybe you could pick up dinner on the way? I’d make an order at our usual place and you just have to pick it up.”

As always, Yunho had everything planned and you nodded: “Sure thing! Sounds like we are set up for the night. Then, I will head back to the dorm for a little while, take a shower, and pick up some clothes. I also have to call my mom; she wanted to tell me about this wedding.”

Mingi rolled over to sit up: “My mom likes to do that too and then she asks me what I think about it, and here I am, just struggling to decide over a hoodie.”

The three of you chuckled, and you pulled the bag over your shoulder, placing the sunglasses on your nose: “I will be going then.”

Yunho stopped, flashing you one of his kind smiles: “Walk safely then. Mingi will accompany you to the crossroad. Looking forward to tonight.”

“I will? Why?” Mingi asked now, looking confused at his best friend who threw a dirty shirt at him, making the younger jump and let out a soft, embarrassed noise.

“Ewh! WHY?” His cheeks were flushed red and it was kind of cute how his grown-out hair looked a little messy with the glasses slipped down on his nose.

“Because we need new washing powder thanks to a certain somebody never bothering to get any after using the last of it for his laundry,” Yunho called out, a small grin on his lips as he threw the last piece of clothing in a basket.

Mingi didn’t seem too convinced, almost like he was trying to figure out just what his best friend was up to, but he gave in with a deep sigh, shoulders hanging down a little. “All right, I shall go and melt out there. If I do not come back, you know why.”

You couldn’t hide the soft laugh as you watched the two of them banter like that: “I will wait outside then, take your time. See you later, Yuyu.”

It was a nickname you had given him when the two of you dated but it had become such a habit, you just kept using it even after the breakup several months ago but he didn't mind it. Mingi seemed a little lost when he pulled on his sneakers and grabbed a jacket, only to remember it was hot outside and he wouldn’t need it.

When he joined you, he was trying to fix his hair but gave up on it the moment a small blow of wind faked some refreshment. “Can’t believe that guy kicked me out just for some washing powder,” he mumbled.

“You know him, he just likes to be prepared for everything,” you gave him a playful shove. After that, the two of you walked in silence for a little while.

With Mingi, that was never a bad thing as you learned quickly how he either was lost in his own thoughts, sometimes daydreaming, or there were days when he couldn’t stop talking, where his thoughts seemed to be as busy as those of an artist and his urge to share was sweet. You liked to listen to his thoughts, although you did not always manage to follow all of them. Regarding your career paths, you picked something more practical and straightforward like Yunho.

“Hey, Y/N,” he only quickly glanced at you before pretending that something on the way had caught his attention.

“Hm?” you looked over at him, head tilted in curiosity, paying attention to how his hand was gently rubbing the back of his neck, words suddenly not coming easily anymore.

“Did you ever regret breaking up with Yunho?” the question was rushed now like he was scared he wouldn’t ask it otherwise, but it certainly wasn’t one you’d have expected.

Back then, Yunho had a long conversation with Mingi, he told you that. The younger was surprised but also worried: the older was his best friend and naturally, he should be supportive of him, but there was also you now, somebody important to him. He was scared to lose that bond and the fun time you shared. Yunho had explained everything, promised you’d be fine, and you had done the same. Still, there were times when it seemed Mingi was worried, or at least, you picked it up as such.

You shook your head slowly: “No. I think it was for the best, you know? I really liked having Yunho as my boyfriend but now, looking at how things went after we broke up, I think we were both right because it barely feels any different. That shows me we have been perfect friends for one another more than lovers.”

Mingi seemed to consider your answer before speaking again: “So it would be fine with you if Yu starts to date again?”

The number of questions was a little unusual but you knew how much Mingi struggled now that the final year was approaching. The idea of things changing was always hard for him once he was comfortable with a situation. Something like that was what Yunho warned you about right at the beginning, that you should tell him if you’d get overwhelmed by Mingi seeking comfort at times. You never were.

“Well, of course not. We are friends and I want him to be happy. Sure, I worry a little about how the next partner feels. I know we are more the exception, it is rare for exes to be able to be such good friends and even for those who are, their partners can have that level of distrust.”

It had come to your mind but you decided not to worry about something you’d not have any control over. You stretched your arms comfortably up in the air: “It’s Yuyu, I am sure he will find somebody that’s like him and you don’t have to worry about it.”

Mingi nodded and it seemed, while there was a hint of uncertainty on his handsome features, he could live with the answer.

When the store Mingi was aiming for slowly appeared, it seemed as if something changed and he was walking a little behind you. By now, you were checking your phone for the earliest bus in the morning since you promised to visit another friend nearby.

“So… I am not that bad looking, am I?”

Mingi’s question took you by surprise once more, but this time, you found yourself blinking, a hint of red accompanying it as you turned around and he was looking at you.

Song Mingi was too often overlooked because in lectures, he liked to dress comfortably with oversized shirts and comfy jeans, his hair often a mess unlike all the times the three of you went out to bars or clubs. Then, gazes turned around for the tall and handsome student with his plump lips and the way the tight tank tops complimented his body, and his hair styled back let you see his face properly.

Mingi always said he didn’t have one-night stands or dates because he needed somebody who loved both. In fact, it had been a drunk confession on a weekend when Yunho visited his family it had just been the two of you, a joke of yours that he should get laid going wrong.

“Of course not,” you leaned forward, giving him a proper look up and down, thinking it surely was okay with the two of you being friends.

“You are hot, you have so many unique features: your lips, those little moles, and the way your eyes sparkle when you get excited.”

Mingi’s face openly brightened up and he was about to say something when a loud noise interrupted the two of you.

“Y/NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN,” Wooyoung screamed, an arm curled around San’s thin waist when the two stopped on their motorbike. The two of you often ended up working on projects together as for some reason, you shared almost half of your lectures with Wooyoung.

“What’s up, Jung?”

You joked and he pulled the helmet up, grinning.

“We are throwing a party tonight, wanna come? You can bring your two boyfriends.” Wooyoung teased, resulting in you rolling your eyes, he loved to pull the joke.

“Funny for you to say when everyone assumes you and your best friends are a little more on the benefit side.”

San gave his best friend a shove who struggled not to fall off and rolled his eyes dramatically: “You two really do not have any humor. Anyway, sincere invitation. Lots of people will come so if you change your mind, just text me.” He held onto San again and they disappeared down the road.

“Weirdo,” you laughed and looked back at Mingi. He was staring at you before awkwardly rubbing a hand over his neck: “Ah, I should get that stuff for the washing machine. I’ll see you later for the movies.”

You smiled, not thinking too much about it: “I will hurry to get ready, see you soon!”

Mingi nodded, more to himself than to you, and you could see him stumble, almost falling over one of the outdoor baskets as he cursed and disappeared inside. He always had been a little clumsy but recently it started to pile up a bit. It was kind of cute.

“I bought four packages. If that isn’t enough for at least three months…” Mingi blurted out as he unlocked the door and stepped inside, but stopped when he saw Yunho all dressed up and ready to leave. He dropped the bag with the boxes and blinked, pointing over his shoulder.

“Why do you look like that?”

His best friend looked up, smiling. “Ah! My brother just gave me a call, asking if I could come over and help him with some stuff. We haven’t really seen each other in weeks, and with summer just starting, I figured it would be okay.”

“But Y/N is coming over for the TV series soon, and I was excited for us to do it together.” Disappointment was written all over Mingi’s face now, but his best friend managed to hide how that expression always made feel him a little guilty.

“I promise, we will do it next time. We still have all summer and an entire year to meet up like that all the time. I already ordered the food and it’s paid for. You always still have an empty stomach by the time we are done, so just eat my portion too and make sure to brush your teeth properly afterward.”

The younger made a face. “Hey, I’m not an elementary kid anymore!” Yunho was always there, looking out for him, and there were times when Mingi was scared of what it would be like once he was supposed to be a proper adult, all on his own, living in an apartment without him. Not that he could admit it — he was in his early 20s and everyone suddenly wanted him to act on it, have it all figured out, and be proper.

Yunho stopped and stood in front of his best friend. They were almost equal in height, but the light-haired one eventually outgrew Mingi by an inch or two.

“I will always worry about you because you think too much and care too little about yourself,” Yunho smiled fondly at him, ruffling through his best friend’s hair, which elicited another displeased noise from Mingi, who was confused about what was going on.

“Do you still have the plushie? The one Hongjoong made for his school project when we were in our first year?” Yunho suddenly asked.

Mingi blinked before turning around and walking over to his small part of the wardrobe. He went down on his knees, pulling down one of the storage boxes until he found the yellow duck. Honestly, he had asked for a chicken when Hongjoong said he had to sew animals and would gift them each after receiving a grade. When Mingi had seen the duck for the first time, he pouted, and since then, Yunho wouldn’t stop teasing him about how they looked alike, so he ended up hiding it.

“This one?” he lifted it up, showing it to Yunho, and his best friend nodded.

“Mhm, you should gift it to Y/N. It would fit perfectly with the rest of the plushie collection.”

That was right — you collected plushies. It was cute because it wasn’t something Mingi expected when he first met you riding on a skateboard while reading a thriller novel the day Yunho introduced you to each other.

“Why would Y/N want a plushie that looks like me?” Mingi asked. Yunho pulled his bag over and was already at the door, smiling back over his shoulder at the younger.

“Because Y/N thinks you are cute, that’s why,” he winked. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Enjoy your evening together.”

Mingi blinked in confusion, still standing there before looking at the duck plushie in his hand, frowning.

“Y/N does?”

“Yuyu just left to visit his brother?” you frowned, a little surprised by the news when you arrived. It seemed unlike Yunho to just vanish like that; he never failed to inform everyone about it when he was to leave for some time, especially if you intended to meet up. Then, when it came to his brother and family, he was always super caring, something that everyone liked and respected about him.

You kicked off your sneakers and walked to the small kitchen corner. The shower had been welcoming, and you changed into a pair of jeans and a shirt, leaving your more comfortable clothes for sleeping in your bag. It wasn’t the first time you stayed over ‘just as a friend’; the couch was just as comfortable as any bed to you.

“Mhm, he was in a rush when I came back,” Mingi sighed. “He said we have all summer, so we will do it next time. I… should have called you. Sorry, then you could have rescheduled.”

You looked over to him, and your gazes met. His face started to heat up, and he tried to distract himself by fixing his glasses once more, leading you to smile.

“Nonsense, we can do this too. I do not mind, and I told you, there is not much else I have planned for the night. We can be evil and punish Yunho by spoiling the entire season for him, speaking about all the details once he’s back,” you joked to cheer him up a little and were pleased to see that he was grinning.

“I like the sound of that!”

You nodded and turned around, taking out plates to place the takeaway food inside, preferring to have it look a little prettier than eating out of the white containers. Meanwhile, Mingi started to add more pillows on his bed, along with blankets, and he turned off the bigger lights, replacing them with soft fairy lights. He had the bigger of the two beds, and with that, you were all used to sitting inside to watch on the TV hanging on the opposite wall.

When you turned around, you couldn’t deny he was obviously putting extra effort in today. Next to the extra blankets, he also added some flowers in a vase, and there was a chicken plushie that looked an awful lot like Mingi.

“I… since you ditched that cool party with Wooyoung and San… I thought it could be nice, pretending like we did something extra cool as well,” he muttered, biting down on his lower lip as if he was waiting for you to laugh at him.

Oh, Mingi, when would he finally start to see just how charming and amazing he was?

“Who would want to go to a boring party where everyone just gets drunk when you can have an amazing home cinema with good food and cute company?” you winked and walked over.

Without Yunho, it was your turn to try and cheer Mingi up, so you carefully sat down on the left side of the plushie.

“Now, you did not introduce me to your friend yet. Ah, if I’d have known, I’d have put a little more effort into my appearance.”

Mingi carefully took one of the plates and joined you, looking at it and then back at you.

“Uhm, a name? This is… Bbyongming. Hongjoong gifted him to me; he made him for some project back when we were juniors. He’s a…”

“Cute chicken. I love chickens!”

Now he pointed at the plushie again. “You did notice it was a chicken?! I always told everyone, but they say it looks like a duck.”

Mingi had to force himself to sit down; he almost spilled some of the food over the edge of his plate, but he looked at you, who was eagerly nodding.

“Tsk, I have no idea why anyone would think this is a duck. It is obviously a chicken and very cute. Looks a little bit like you.” You laughed softly and shoved some of the noodles inside your mouth just because you were embarrassed for having said just that.

For some reason, though, Mingi’s smile grew, and he was finally relaxing.

“I think so too!”

The both of you took care not to lean on the small chicken when you started with the series while eating the takeaway. You made a quiet note to thank Yunho for the meal later, even though he wasn’t here to share it with you.

To your surprise, the show was much better than expected, and while the first episode was quite a slow burn, you soon found yourself enjoying the plot and were invested in it, and so was Mingi. Everyone else likely would just glare at you for being so excited about it. There were hisses when something annoying happened and little gasps when the story took unexpected turns. A shiver over the scarier moments.

Yuyu sometimes joked how you reminded him of Mingi at times, during the very first dates you two went on, and there certainly were days when you couldn’t deny it.

As the hours went by, the two of you ended up moving closer together. Maybe it was Mingi being used to sitting between his two closest friends, who both wouldn’t mind it at all, or maybe you leaned in without thinking about it. The little chicken was sitting on your lap at this point; you played with its big head, squishing it to deal with your excitement about the plot.

It wasn’t until the screen darkened a little and asked if you were still watching that the two of you realized how many hours must have passed and how close you were sitting to each other now.

Mingi had taken off his glasses, his dark eyes looking curiously at you while there was still a soft blush on his cheeks now that he was so close. There were little details you never paid attention to before, and your heart was doing one or two awkward jumps in your chest as his arm tightened a little around your shoulder.

It was careful, scared you might withdraw any moment, but you just found yourself staring up at him, losing the hold around the plushie just a little. Slowly, Mingi was leaning closer to you so that his breath tickled your skin and his long lashes were about to close when suddenly, somebody was pushing the doorbell, and the two of you jumped up like the main characters in a horror movie.

“What the fuck?!” Mingi hissed and cleared his throat. You were rubbing your neck, unable to hide how your face was a little flushed, and there was an anticipation for something you didn’t see coming.

“I wonder who it is?” you mumbled, just to say anything, and Mingi was quick to put on his glasses and turned on some lights. The doorbell rang again.

“Should I get the baseball bat?” he asked, looking at you. At first, you weren’t sure if he was serious, but then, considering how you just watched a show where in one episode, they got robbed during something similar, you couldn’t entirely blame him.

“How about I get the bat, and you answer the door?” you suggested. At this point, you couldn’t entirely hide your smile; you knew how silly and dumb this was, but somehow, it was something you enjoyed. With Mingi, there was always room for something unexpected.

You walked over and carefully opened Yunho’s wardrobe. By the time the bell rang once more, you found his baseball bat. Your ex was quite a passionate baseball player, who gave up playing only after high school graduation due to a minor injury, but he didn’t want to risk it.

“Ready if you are!” You positioned yourself behind the door, exhaling as Mingi finally opened it to see who was ringing constantly that late. The building their apartment was in had seen its best years long ago, the lights dim and the environment not too inviting to be outside at a late hour, even during the summer months when most other streets were buzzing, but convenience stores had the downside of also attracting all kinds of figures to buy snacks or alcohol at a late hour.

Jongho rushed inside. “What took you so long? I was standing there for almost ten minutes.”

The man stopped, looking from Mingi, who was dealing with the realization he just let somebody get in so easily, to you, behind the door with a baseball bat up in the air. The youngest student was frowning, judging you quite obviously as he pointed an index finger from Mingi to you.

“I am not sure if this small apartment is cut out to play indoor baseball.”

You blushed, trying to look all cool and casual, relaxing on the bed. “Oh yeah, I mean. We thought you were Yunho who came back from his brother and wanted to just give him a small jumpscare,” you lied.

“You three are a weird trio, you know? But I guess that means Yunho isn’t here then? Dammit, I need the keys to the club room. It can’t be helped… I’ll be going then. Sorry for the interruption,” Jongho glanced over the bed and the fairy lights.

“Very sorry… didn’t know I’d run into a date. Anyway, see you around.”

There was no room to say anything; he already rushed out, and gone he was. Mingi and you were blinking at each other as he forced himself to finally move, locking the door and clearing his throat: “That was something…”

It was too late; now that somebody said the word, you couldn’t unsee it. How soft everything was, the way Mingi was acting around you recently, and Yunho’s odd behavior, just leaving the two of you like that.

As you stood there in silence, he was likely slowly starting to overthink because he carefully took the baseball bat from you and then started to wave with his hands.

“Ah… look, you don’t have to listen to… I mean, it is… we can just be friends.”

The last word was whispered, and you could hear the defeat in Mingi’s voice.

“I will start cleaning up…”

Finally, your legs moved, and you hugged him from behind. “No, leave it like that! I like it,” you whispered, and you felt him tense but very slowly turning his head around to look at you.

Idiot, how could he think that you’d not maybe consider liking him that way? How could you not? He wasn’t just handsome, a little strange, and entirely endearing, but somebody you trusted and always felt comfortable with.

Your heart was beating loudly, also with the question of why you thought this would be different from Yunho, how you could be certain you just had the bad habit of liking your friends a little too much?

Maybe it was because you really just were too alike, so it took you forever to notice the small differences.

“Do you maybe want to sit down again?” Mingi finally mumbled, and you nodded. He took your hand and turned off the lights as you went back to his bed. He was sitting down and, for a moment, hesitated.

“We could… do you maybe want to relax a little?”

Another nod followed, and the two of you stood there like awkward high schoolers who came along to prom when you finally crawled back on the bed and carefully relaxed against his shoulder. His long arms instantly curled around your body and kept you warm as he turned the show back on, but this time, you were far too distracted to really pay attention.

Mingi was feeling the same because he was looking down at you here and then until you noticed that at this point, you literally just were staring at him. You liked how he blushed, how it was so easy to read what he was thinking and feeling in a moment like that.

“You are pretty,” he whispered but forced himself for his eyes to remain on you, leading you to smile. “So are you, well, handsome.” There were just too many words in this year and age, but any would be fine with you, and there were even more you could think of that suited him.

“Would it be okay if I kiss you?” he finally asked, swallowing hard.

You nodded softly, and his big hands carefully rested against your cheeks. You turned around slowly so he could reach you better and pushed yourself up just a little.

This was by far not your first kiss, but every first kiss with a new person always felt like one. Mingi seemed shy as he breathed carefully against you and slowly tilted his head to lean in.

His plump lips were just as soft as you imagined, and one of your arms curled around his neck as you allowed your eyes to close.

The kiss was far from perfect: curiosity and tension mixed up, but it was just the way it should be. You were a little more eager than Mingi, encouraging him to deepen it more, and for a second, his hand clung a little to your hair.

Eventually, your lips broke apart, and he exhaled, grinning: “I think I finally understand why you all like kissing so much.”

Your face turned into a surprised expression: “Wait… this was your first kiss?”

Mingi smiled a little sheepishly: “I guess… always wanted it to be special, but I feel like I told you that before, Y/N.”

Now you were the one more nervous than confident, but Mingi laughed and hugged you gently. For a while, you sat there just like this.

It seemed a little strange that just maybe, you needed up until now to realize that you might have developed a crush on one of your closest friends and the very best of your ex, but like always, Yunho had known best.

Idiot. He really was a league of his own.

Mingi yawned a little: “Mh. I promise next time… I’ll ask you out properly. Like, you will know what it is… if you want that.”

You chuckled: “I admit, thinking of it now, surprise dates aren’t so bad, but yes, I’d like that. You look tired. We should get some sleep.”

You knew you should change and freshen up a little, but you were comfortable like that and didn’t want to leave.

“Do you want to cuddle, maybe?” Mingi asked again, and you winked: “You figured me out!”

He chuckled again and started to remove all objects from the bed so the two of you could get in together but stopped as he lifted up the plushie.

“Uhm… for you. Your personal Mingi… just make sure you do not like him better than me,” he pouted a little but then laughed, offering him shyly to you.

Your hands gently reached out before holding him up, close to Mingi’s face. “Twins, absolutely.”

You hugged him tightly: “I will treasure him, thank you.”

The taller nodded and slipped inside the bed first before you carefully followed, and his arms curled around you, pressing a small kiss on your hair. In return, you pulled his glasses off his nose and put them aside.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he whispered. You exhaled and dared to snuggle a little closer against him. “Good night, Mingi.”

In theory, all was perfect, if not for the two of you being cowards watching scary shows without a mindful Yunho to remind you it wasn’t real.

“Should we maybe turn on the TV?” Mingi asked into the darkness, and you nodded.

“Anime?”

“Gotcha!” He leaned over, turning the TV on, and you curled up against him, snuggled up like that, watching a random show until the two of you fell asleep.

Looking back, university life and student years, they really had been wild, but there wasn’t even a moment you’d regret.

A few years later…

“How’s Y/N doing?” Yunho asked as he scanned through the wardrobe.

“Same as always, went skating with some other friends, but we will meet soon. We’re looking at an apartment today,” Mingi grinned as he finally settled on a white shirt. It was a little too big, but people kept saying he looked good in it, something about being "boyfriend-coded."

“Sounds like you two are finally making that last step. If anything, I’m a bit surprised it took you so long to move in together. I mean, no offense, but you’ve literally been living together since graduation, just staying at each other's place frequently.”

Mingi chuckled into the phone: “I’d ask how you know if you didn’t live across the hall from me. Though, it’s rare to see you these days with your insane workload. Don’t forget to take a break now and then.”

Yunho was nervous; it had been a while since he had felt that way. Somehow, everyone thought he was super confident with dating, but he wouldn’t say it came easy to him.

“Enough about us, though. You met your date at that midnight bus? It sounds dangerous to take a bus after 11:00 PM all alone.”

Yunho blushed, thinking about it: “Something like that. We waited for that bus together for quite some time, a few weeks, but I was too nervous. I was even googling how to approach a stranger on a bus the night we finally talked. Anyway, we meet in an hour, and I need to look my best…”

His best friend laughed: “Remember that plushie Hongjoong made of you first year of university?”

Yunho rolled his eyes, grinning: “Are you telling me now I should gift it to my date?”

Mingi hummed: “Well, it worked for me; it’s worth a try. Not that I am worried, if somebody manages to make you THAT nervous, I’m sure this person is pretty cool. Make sure to introduce us, yeah? OK, gotta go, see you later.”

Yunho ended the call. He changed into the outfit, moving left to right before exhaling deeply, placing his right hand cutely against his cheek, and looking in the mirror. Gringe.

Then he sighed, shaking his head: “Please, this is not how you do it…”

He grabbed his bag and headed to the door, but then he made a few steps back. The plushie was sitting on the small armchair in his bedroom. Yunho stared at it before he opened a shelf and pulled out some gift bag.

He carefully placed it inside before finally leaving to go to this very important date. He couldn’t wait to meet this special person again.

[directdogman]

A large Milt post.

The funny thing about writing characters is that you often forget how little of them you've shown off. Milt's pretty detached from the plot (not even being explicitly mentioned in-game) so I guess it's fair to say that the audience doesn't really 'know' him well.

Given how much detail the audience knows about Crown's life during the war and immediately after it, it'd be interesting to mention a little bit about Milt's war history, especially since Crown's time during the war is pretty important to understanding a part of his character - why he was so dead-set on changing the world. Ironically, Milt's experiences were very different in a lot of ways, but wound up bringing him to the same place. This information would be obscure, but likely known to anyone who'd want to study him in DT's universe, so I guess there's no harm in mentioning some of it:

Milt was born into a more affluent family than Crown's and didn't face the same kind of nail-biting poverty that Crown did as a child. He was a Corporal (Acting Sgt) by the end of the war and had a distinguished record as a war hero. He was very well respected by those in his platoon, having a reputation for honesty, kindness and always following through on his word, no matter the circumstances. However, was also known to be someone you didn't wanna push around or back into a corner, as he was fiercely intelligent and very determined - not the sort of person you'd want to wrong.

He was a part of the DDay landings during the European campaign, an event he remembers as a terrifying and chaotic loss of life. Milt later rejected claims of his valor during the landing in the years following the war. After the fall of Berlin in mid 1945, Milt rejected the opportunity to remain in Europe as an occupying force (which was available to him because of his reputation/rank) in order to join the Pacific Theater. This was partially out of a sense of survivor's guilt (personally knowing many soldiers from his town who'd died in the campaign) and partly because he feared returning to relative peace and being alone with his thoughts again.

Milt's time in the Pacific Theater isn't nearly as well known due to how unwilling he was to talk about it to anyone, though he once opened up to Marla about it. Milt witnessed the destruction of Hiroshima from a distance, an event that's forever etched into his mind.

When Milt returned to the States, with a military scholarship, he decided to focus his efforts into trying to make the world a better place and began studying science. His dream was to develop a new form of irrigation that could terraform large swathes of land into farmland so the whole world could be fed. Due to his intelligence and determination in seeking his goal, he wound up taking to his work well. He took a keen interest in the new concept of the structure of DNA in particular, which was discovered in the early 1950's, believing that genetic modification could be used to create new forms of plant life that could feed vast amounts of people. Milt never ceased contact with his contacts from University, nor lost his love for science and the pursuit of a better world through the advancement of technology/science. But, most of all, he never abandoned his dream of making the world a better place, one where the horrors he'd witnessed as a younger man (such as mass human death, starvation and mass-chaos) could never happen again.

Shortly after graduating, he attended a political rally in Madison, Wisconsin and met a passionate public speaker/local business owner who'd change the course of his life forever. The rest is history.