#I don’t know if anyone else has made this yet since I’ve got all the tags blocked | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

capr1pengu1n · 3 months ago

Text

And when I'm taking your innocence

Summary: After Edward last shared you with his criminal partner, a hidden outfit leads to yet another encounter between you three; one that has unforeseen results

Warnings: 18+ smut, fem reader, threesome, dom!Edward and dom!Jonathan, the scriddler vibes are stronger in this one lmao, degradation, spanking, choking, fingering, rough sex, creampie

Words: 6.2k

Notes: This is a part two of a little victim-less crime that i wrote cause i'm 1.) constantly horny for these two, and 2.) i was enabled on ao3. I love writing dialogue for these two, apologies once again for the self indulgence.

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

The fact your apartment door was unlocked when you got back from work, when you know for a fact you locked it before you left, should give a normal person cause for alarm, but you simply roll your eyes as you enter, shutting it again behind you. After all, The Riddler wasn’t one to need a key.

“Edward?” you call out, before you hear him inside your bedroom. You really should give him a key at this point, but he probably finds picking your lock a bit of added mental stimulation. Entering, you glance down, confused as your lover was on his knees, looking under your bed.

“Look what I’ve found.”

At your boyfriends’ almost sing-song tone, you feel the blush rise on your cheeks as he holds up the playboy bunny outfit he’d retrieved from the scrappy box beneath your bed, even fiddling with the bunny ear headband in the other hand. Suddenly, memories come flooding back, of being on your knees for two of Gotham’s most wanted while dressed in such a revealing outfit, being referred to as nothing more than a pet while they took turns using your mouth. You quickly go to grab the outfit, but Edward stands to his full height and lifts it above his head, smirking.

“C’mon Eddie, give it back.”

“You kept it?”

You hesitate, feeling the heat of your skin rise. “Of course I kept it…you bought it for me.”

“I did, but I’ve bought you a lot of things doll.”

“…it fits nice. I guess I figured I’d…or you’d…”

He laughs, dropping his arm and letting you snatch the fabric. “You thought I’d want you to wear it again for me? Well…it is tempting.”

You quickly bend down to stuff it back in its box under the bed, having to swat his hand away when he playfully tries to spank you. Standing back up, you teasingly glare at him.

“What were you even doing looking under my bed in the first place?”

“You know I store some things here I don’t want people to find.” He explains, digging into his pocket to pull out a lockbox key. “But it seems I found a bonus.”

You nod softly, before giggling and trying to grab the key. Edward scoffs, and moves his hand, dangling it over your head and forcing you to try and reach it. He smirks a little when you can’t, and it widens when you playfully pout at him.

“You really think that’ll work on me? Try a little harder, won’t you?” he says, before scoffing louder at your attempt to jump up to grab it. It’s almost like he’s having fun before his phone rings. A flash of annoyance shows on his features, before he excuses himself and steps outside your bedroom. You glance underneath the bed, thinking about that night. It made you feel good, feel powerful, to be seen as so desirable by two men like that. You can’t deny the encounter left quite the impression; you’d slept with both of them at the same time a few times before that night, each time thinking it would be the last. At first you were surprised, since Edward had the tendency to be possessive, but the last time…well. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but it was like Edward enjoyed the fact it was Jonathan that was there with the both of you. After all, he’s never suggested sharing you with anyone else.

“Sorry doll, something came up.” Edward says as he steps back in the room, noticing how lost in thought you seem. The cogs in his brain start to turn, as he cups your jaw. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, okay? Make sure you’re free.”

“Yeah, I will.”

He pats your jaw a little and goes to walk away, before you make a soft noise and follow him. Rolling his eyes, he leans in to give you a kiss, but you don’t miss the hint of a smile before he does. You know he adores this, feeling needed by you.

“So needy.” He chastises lowly against your lips, before pulling away completely. “Tomorrow night.”

You hum your confirmation, before he leaves. Trying to go about your day as normal, your thoughts are constantly straying to the idea of you being in that outfit again for him, of serving him. Perhaps even serving both of them again. That night, laying in your bed alone, the thoughts seem more and more tempting, the memories causing the ache between your thighs to worsen. You attempt to squeeze your thighs together, forcing your eyes closed in an attempt to sleep, but your brain keeps replaying the encounter like a video tape stuck on replay. Feeling yourself get wet, you slip a hand down to relieve the tension, before a better idea pops up.

You reach over your bed and grab the box, quickly stripping yourself and squeezing your curves into the tight outfit. God you forgot how revealing it really was, as you turn the lights on in your bedroom to have a better look at yourself. As you turn in front of the mirror, you know what you’re about to do is something that’ll certainly land you in hot water, but you can’t resist grabbing your phone from the bedside table and opening up the camera. Hesitating for a moment, you decide to get on your knees, straightening your back before snapping a picture, making sure to push your chest together so it looks extra obscene. Grinning at your little stunt, you send the picture to Edward with the text ‘I don’t know how I’m going to wait until tomorrow ;)’. You know it’ll most likely be a while before he sees it, so you grab your vibrator from your dresser and settle into bed, ripping off the crotch of your bodysuit and preparing for a good night.

Just before you go to sleep, you see a message from Edward. Opening it, it reads ‘you naughty minx, just wait until I get my hands on you. You’ll pay for that.’

Tomorrow night turns into tonight, as you get home to your apartment. Since he was vague about the time, you figured he wouldn’t be in as you open the door and see a gift box in a beautiful shade of emerald green sat on your coffee table. You go over and read the note, that gives you express instructions to not open it until 8pm sharp. Laughing softly at Edward’s theatrics, you obey the note’s instructions and wait, making dinner for yourself instead. However the time rolls around eventually, and using your phone’s time to be extra sure, as soon as it strikes 8pm you unwrap the box. Pulling out the fabric you see, your eyes widen. A…maid outfit? You’ve got to be kidding.

Just then, your phone buzzes with a notification. ‘I’ll be back in fifteen minutes, I expect you wearing that when I come through the door.’

You’re pretty shocked at that, looking back at the maid outfit. You figured he’d simply make you wear the bunny suit again…until you remember. You remember the conversation Edward had with Jonathan after they’d had their way with you.

“What was it between?” Jonathan pipes up.

“This, or a maid outfit.” He explains, looking at your form with a smirk. “I went with something classy.”

You realise he simply got you the other choice he considered, the other outfit he wanted to see you in. But you momentarily forgot you were on the clock, so you quickly get changed into the maid dress. How he managed to get one that fits you so perfectly in such a short space of time is beyond you…unless he bought both this and the bunny suit at the same time. Bastard.

You go to the bedroom to look in your full-length mirror, analysing the ensemble for the first time. It’s short, which was to be expected, with white lace trimmings along the skirt and the edge of the sleeves. It has a white apron that ties neatly in a bow at the back, as well as lace that goes around your wrists and neck. A lacy pair of white panties had been included, which you hurriedly pulled up. Finally, a headband sits on your hair, completing the uniform of a maid that would certainly be fired for violating a dress code. Still, it was very flattering to your figure, and you exemplified the look by applying some red lipstick, before anxiously pacing around your apartment until you hear a knock at the door. At least he knocked this time.

Opening it, you’re greeted to Edward’s smug grin as he looks you up and down. He looked good tonight, hair styled back with only a few rogue red strands falling out of place, green suit ironed and form fitting as he steps inside and shuts the door.

“What a fine-looking maid I’ve hired.” He teases, before you giggle and playfully swat his arm.

“When did you buy this?”

“Does it matter? I knew you’d look ravishing in it.” He says, and he revels in how you so obviously bask in his praise. Leaning down, he gives you a teasing peck on the junction between your neck and shoulder. “Come on, I’m a busy man. Aren’t you going to offer to take my jacket?”

You roll your eyes but walk around him regardless, helping him take his jacket off before hanging it up. When you return he’s settled on your sofa, legs spread as he gets comfortable. You go to sit on his lap before he stops you, tutting.

“No no doll. You see I have something…special planned for tonight.” You tilt your head, as he checks his watch. “Should have known the bastard would be late.”

He watches in satisfaction as realisation dawns on you. “Wait…is Jonathan-“

“Is there a problem?” he asks, his smile still adorning his features, but his eyes are clearly searching yours for any sign of discomfort. When you shake your head, he continues. “It’s been a while since our last escapade. I was feeling generous.”

You giggle softly, both in excitement and embarrassment. It’s true you hadn’t seen Jonathan since you’d dressed as the playboy bunny for them both, so it was a little mortifying to know he’d be coming and seeing you in yet another slutty outfit. You perch on the arm of the sofa as you ask Edward about what he’s been busy with, listening to his plans on how to humiliate his next targets: this time the employees of a company advertising a new chess set that’s designed to be easier to play than normal chess, not hard to see why your boyfriend would have such a petty intellectual objection to such a thing. Before long though, there’s a firm knock at the door, to which Edward gestures with his head.

“Well go on then, maid.”

You flush and glare at him, before getting up and walking to the door, seeing the always dishevelled appearance of Jonathan Crane. He gives a wolf whistle as he eyes you up, southern accent as charming as ever. “Well well well, looks like ol’ Eddie got ya in the outfit after all.”

Smiling a little shyly, you step aside and let him enter. Jonathan glances around your apartment idly, before nodding at Edward when he comes into view.

“Doesn’t she just look ravishing Jon?”

“That she does, gotta admit this is mighty fine payback.”

You frown a little in confusion. “Payback?”

You observe as Edward’s jaw clenches, while Jonathan lets out a throaty laugh. “Oh he didn’t tell ya? Can’t say I’m surprised. He never is fond of admitting when he’s screwed up.”

“Oh shut it Crane.” Edward says petulantly, but he clearly isn’t about to explain the situation, so Jonathan continues.

“Well me and Edward here were workin’ together on a little payback of our own for Mister Dent for meddlin’ where he wasn’t supposed to. And Edward was supposed to be in charge of procuring some product I needed, but he had to go runnin’ his big mouth to the supplier. Nearly got us both caught.”

“How was I supposed to know that buffoon would object so severely to being called out for having as much brain matter as a turkey in a coma, that he’d rat us out to the cops?”

You can’t help but laugh softly as Jonathan rolls his eyes before looking at you. “See what I mean? Big. Mouth.”

Edward grumbles, before you speak up again. “So Edward offered…”

“You? Well yesterday, he implied you might be interested in um, how should I put it? Being shared again? So I said if you were willin’, I’d be more than susceptible to forgivin’ Eddie’s little mishap.”

“And now you’re eyeing my girlfriend in a stunning outfit I paid for. Any man would be a fool not to be grateful for this opportunity. Let alone twice.”

You flush more at the comment, but you can’t deny the arousal that blossoms between your legs at the feeling of being desirable once again. Glancing between the two men, Edward smirks a little as he asserts himself as once again being in control of this situation.

“I figured you’d be interested in giving a bit of…disciplinary action. After all, my maid was a little whore last night when she attempted to tease me over text.”

Feeling your breath catch, you glance at Jonathan who steps closer. “Is that right?”

Knowing there’s no point in denying it, you nod shamefully. “I sent him a picture of myself in the playboy bunny costume.”

Jonathan lets out another throaty laugh. “Oh naughty girl. I bet that got him all riled up.”

You giggle softly, as Jonathan tilts your chin up. Looking up at him, you always get a little nervous when you’re at the centre of Jonathan’s intense gaze, dark eyes looking at you like you’re prey.

Edward seems to be enjoying the show, adjusting himself on the sofa as he speaks. “You can do as you wish, within reason. Just make sure she learns her lesson.”

Jonathan seemingly ponders Edward’s words, tilting your chin side to side as if he were inspecting you. You swallow, the feeling of embarrassment curling inside you once more as he smirks. “Edward, would you mind if we took this naughty maid to her bedroom?”

“Not at all.”

You follow the two men obediently before Jonathan pulls you onto his lap, straddling him. Hesitantly, you hold his shoulders as he runs his hands almost experimentally along your waist, feeling the material. “Gotta admit, I think I prefer this one to the bunny suit. Big fan of the details.”

He punctuates his words by tracing under the skirt, feeling your ass shamelessly, and causing you to arch into him a little. “Y’know, it’s a real shame I can’t see you with a little of my fear toxin in y’system. I bet you look beautiful when you’re afraid.”

“Crane.” Edward says darkly. A warning.

He hums, tracing your neck with one of his long fingers. “Pulse racin’, the way your chest would heave with your breaths, the way y’pretty eyes would look at me with tears in ‘em”

Glancing at Edward, Jonathan sees the death glare the other man is giving him as he leans against your dresser. So he seemingly takes the hint, deciding to lean in and kiss along your neck as you sigh and tilt your head. Little do you know he’s lulling you into a false sense of security before he smacks your ass hard. You jolt, gripping his shoulders tighter.

“Y’know, maybe a good old-fashioned punishment would help a little whore like you.” Jonathan murmurs in your ear, before pushing you off him. “Over my lap. Now.”

You scramble to do as he says, presenting your ass to him as you glance at your boyfriend, who’s now sitting next to where your head is on the bed. He looks at you with an expression unreadable to you, but you don’t have time to ponder it before Jonathan pulls the white panties so your ass is fully exposed before striking you once again. You let out a pitiful yelp at the sting, before he spanks you again. And again. And again.

Edward strokes your cheek in a mock display of comfort, but his greedy eyes betray his intentions as he speaks. “Oh darling, does that hurt?”

“Damn right she’s hurtin’.” Jonathan states, smacking your ass again hard to punctuate his words, “Need to make sure she’s taught a lesson, right?”

You let out a soft moan, nodding obediently at the statement, even if it wasn’t necessarily directed at you. Still, Edward chuckles softly and taps your cheek a few times absentmindedly. Jonathan gropes the tender flesh he’s struck, feeling you against his stinging palm as he uses his other hand to feel the material of your dress again. After a few more spanks, he notices the slight tears forming in your eyes and revels in it. Revels in the fear and painful pleasure he’s caused you, revels in the fact Edward is letting him defile you like this.

“Hm, how about y’apologise to Eddie here, for bein’ such an insolent brat. Say ‘I’m sorry sir, I will not be a naughty tease again’.”

Flushing at his words, you glance up at Edward shyly and start to speak. “I’m sorry sir, I won’t be a tease again.”

Edward smirks, like he knows a cruel inside joke that you don’t, as he glances at the man still groping you. Jonathan returns the smirk, before he grips your hair tight and pulls. “Really are a dumb one, huh? Don’t tell me a couple of spanks have rendered you incapable of rememberin’ a simple sentence. Guess I expected more from The Riddler’s girl.”

You whimper in slight pain at the hair pull, as he spanks you harshly twice in quick succession. “I said, say ‘I’m sorry sir, I will not be a naughty tease again.” He says slowly, sounding out each word to make you feel more stupid. You’re much more used to this type of condescension from Edward, so you can’t deny the thrill of Jonathan also getting off to you making mistakes like this.

“I’m sorry sir, I will not be a naughty tease again.” This time you repeat it perfectly, looking up at Edward through fluttering eyelashes for added effect, which he seems to appreciate.

“I suppose that’ll do.” Edward says, feigning indifference.

You just about have time to breathe a sigh of relief before Jonathan’s long fingers are tracing against where your clit is over your panties, feeling how soaked the material is. “Filthy girl. You got off on me spankin’ your bratty ass.”

Choking back a needy moan, you do your best to stay still in order to hopefully escape any more punishment. He keeps gently circling, the material acting as a barrier to stop any true pleasure, but being so needy meant you enjoyed the attention regardless.

“Such a depraved little maid. I simply don’t know where I found you.” Edward remarks, tapping your lower lip with his fingers before pushing two inside. You whine softly around the digits, sucking gently as Jonathan removes your ruined underwear. Though just as Jonathan pushes two fingers inside your cunt, Edward shoves his further into your mouth, causing you to choke and moan at the same time.

The lewdness of what’s being done to you causes you to clench around the doctor’s fingers, closing your eyes to retain whatever scrap of dignity remains. Still, you keep sucking obediently as Jonathan fingers you. It’s technical and precise; almost cold in its simplicity and determination. Your g spot is stroked and prodded as you lay there, trying not to splutter and gag around your lover’s digits that seem desperate to reach the back of your throat.

“Does it feel good I wonder, to be this depraved? This wanton?” Jonathan speaks, like he’s diagnosing you. “Or do you feel the hint of fear up y’spine as you realise there’s nowhere to go. Nowhere to run.”

You moan around Edward’s fingers, the words just adding to your near constantly increasing arousal. Jonathan has your dress skirt bunched up in his fist while his other works you, allowing him to see every part of you that he wishes. Although when your eyes look up to Edward’s, his gaze seems stuck between Jonathan’s fingers slipping in and out of your wet cunt messily, or the scarecrow himself.

A particularly audible gag from the back of your throat snaps him out of his trance though, as he quickly looks down at you and removes his fingers, realising he became absentminded and went that bit too far. He doesn’t apologise however, far from it, instead wiping his spit coated fingers on the shoulder of your dress, before smirking down at you.

“I bet you like it, don’t you doll? You like feeling so dirty.”

You nod at him, panting as Jonathan speeds up his fingering. You couldn’t really deny his words, the feeling was exhilarating after all.

“You’re lucky to have a girl like this Edward, so eager to debase herself f’your entertainment.” Jonathan laughs, curling his fingers just right.

“Oh, you should hear her on a day-to-day basis. She has a mouth on her, I can tell you that.”

The friction from Jonathan’s trouser material rubbing against your clit whirls in your mind to form a symphony of pleasure in your core, threatening to tip you over the edge, so you vocalise it as to not warrant more punishment from the two men.

“Oh look at that, the slutty maid wants to cum.” Edward says with a grin.

“But should she?” Jonathan asks, pretending to think about it as he doesn’t slow down.

“Well as much as I believe my opinion holds the most weight here, since she’s my lover, I suppose you can decide, so I can really demonstrate my repentance for the whole supplier business.” His tone is smarmy, almost rolling his eyes at the fact he’s hinging your chance at orgasm on the whims of a sadist.

“Gotta admit, I would like to see what she looks like if she’s edged. Bet she’s a fuckin’ sight.”

“Please,” You stutter out, hand that was laying limp by your face now gripping Edward’s thigh, which luckily he doesn’t seem to object at, “can’t hold it.”

With a fake hum, Jonathan pulls his fingers out, watching with glee as your pussy clenches around nothing. You can’t help the desperate whine of being denied, but the doctor simply smacks your ass once again to shut you up, gleefully observing the tears forming in your eyes.

“So, I get to fuck her? Or does your pride dictate you go first?” Jonathan snipes at Edward, smirking.

This time Edward really does roll his eyes, but waves his hand in a dismissive fashion. “Yes you can fuck her, she’s clearly desperate for something.”

He hides it with his words, but the truth is Edward wants to see his criminal partner fuck you more than anything, the visual image always turning him on so much he almost feels dizzy. While he wouldn’t dream of divulging to Jonathan how on many lonely nights away from you, he’s pumped himself to completion at the thought of seeing you fucked mercilessly by him, Edward definitely won’t pass up the opportunity to see it unfold now.

So he helps manoeuvre you into position, your back against your boyfriend’s chest as Jonathan quickly rids himself of the necessary items of clothing before settling between your parted thighs. Reaching back slightly, you relax immediately at the feeling of Edward’s hand on your own, thumb rubbing circles. Whether it was to comfort you, or to once again display ownership of you, it didn’t really matter in your hazy headspace.

“Gonna say please?” Jonathan remarks, dragging his cock up and down your wetness.

“Please sir.” You reply instantly, the denial making you horny beyond belief.

Jonathan laughs at your quick response, saying “Wow, really takin’ the whole maid thing to heart. Here I was thinkin’ you’ll only call Edward that.”

Before Edward can fit a smartass comment in, Jonathan pushes forward, filling you at a steady pace until he’s deep inside your cunt. A pathetic but pleasured cry echoes from your throat, head falling back against Edward’s body. Even Jonathan lets out a small grunt of satisfaction, feeling your walls around him like a vice as he drags himself out slowly before pushing back in.

“That feel nice?” Edward asks, knowing the answer already but chuckling at your whimpered confirmation. “How about you Jon? Gonna cum already?”

“Shut up Nygma.” He grits out, gripping your thighs tightly as he sets his pace. Lewd noises emit from your pussy, you truly are drenched as he fucks you, pussy eager to have something after being denied. With each thrust, you let out a soft moan, feeling completely enclosed by the two criminals. You were all so close…too close. “God, y’just had to sit so fuckin’ close.”

Edward laughs sharply. “Oh, are you complaining? I’m holding her up for you, and besides, I wouldn’t be able to do this otherwise.” He punctuates his words by grabbing your tits firmly under the fabric of your dress, massaging them and making you moan louder and more wantonly.

“I could do that.” Jonathan snaps back, and you can’t believe you’re being railed out of your mind and these two are bickering like an old married couple, cunt throbbing as Jonathan fucks you.

“Well I’m doing it. Be grateful I let you fuck her, or did you forget she’s my girlfriend.”

“How can I forget when you keep remindin' me of it every goddamn second.”

Your eyes roll back after a particularly delicious thrust, letting out a choked cry that causes Edward’s gaze to snap back to you.

“That’s it doll, just feel how much pleasure he’s giving you. Then remember how much better it’ll feel when I finally get inside of you.”

“God do you ever shut up, even when you’re a cuck you’re still fuckin’ whining.”

You feel Edward tense behind you, clearly taking umbrage at Jonathan’s choice of words.

“You really are a fool Crane, as if I’d ever let myself be a cuck. This is called a threesome; would you like me to pull up a definition for you?”

Both men were getting more and more annoyed at each-other, and that manifested in their rougher treatment of you. Jonathan was slamming into you with conviction now, having a point to prove. His cock stretching you out so completely, the intensity causing you to almost shake. And Edward was pinching your nipples roughly between his thumb and forefinger, needing to assert himself.

“Y’just so-“

“Fine, you really need more of an elaboration Jonathan? Then I’ll oblige you.” Edward snaps, before doing something you truly weren’t expecting. He quickly leans forward, almost folding you in the process, and captures the scarecrow’s lips in a fierce kiss.

Jonathan is clearly stunned, not moving for a second as his brain catches up. You half expect him to push Edward away; to yell or stop…but you watch with wide eyes as he matches Edward’s intensity. The kiss is brutal, all teeth and tongues mashing together, but you can’t deny it’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen. Edward bites Jonathan’s lower lip sharply, drawing blood that is quickly swapped between the two men in their exchange.

When they pull away, you observe the frenzied looks in both of their eyes, as Edward snakes his hand down to rub at your clit roughly. You cry out, clenching around Jonathan as he chases his own pleasure. Each thrust makes your ass rub against the obvious bulge straining in Edward’s suit trousers, causing your pussy to throb.

“Please…” you beg, hoping the endorphin rush from their kiss will make them take pity on you.

“Yeah, we’ll get y’there.” Jonathan says, voice a lower pitch that usual as he fucks you. Over and over he thrusts into you, until you’re sure that your brain is mush currently leaking out your ears. But with your lover’s nimble fingers tracing practiced circles on your clit, it doesn’t take long for you to announce your impending orgasm for the second time that night.

“C’mon darlin’, want to see you cum.” Jonathan remarks, to which Edward nods.

“I should have known the kiss would excite you that much, dirty whore. Make a mess for him.”

At their permission, you cum around Jonathan with a loud gasp, twitching in Edward’s hold. But Jonathan doesn’t slow down, too busy chasing his own climax. Sounds of overstimulation escape your parted lips, as Edward kisses your exposed neck and collarbone.

“Fuck, gonna cum deep inside ya.” Jonathan states, no room for argument, as you whimper and nod. A few seconds later, he’s buried to the hilt inside you, cumming with a loud groan you’ve hardly ever heard from him. His grip is bruising on your thighs, as you feel his release fill you up completely. Clearly he doesn’t do this often.

As he pulls out slowly, you hiss as his cum drips out of you. Edward looks over your shoulder, collecting the cum on his finger before rubbing it messily all over your pussy, making you look even more used. “Good girl sweetheart.”

You sigh happily at the praise, before you feel Edward grin and continues speaking. “But I hope you don’t think this is over. After all, I need to fuck my maid, don’t I.”

Biting your lip softly, you nod in agreement as Edward straightens you up, before bending you over so you fall unceremoniously into Jonathan. Luckily the doctor seems to have recovered from one of the best orgasms of his life, as he steadies you and helps Edward get you into position. Your dress is pulled over your head quickly, ‘roleplay’ long since discarded. Hearing a belt being unbuckled, you glance up at Jonathan as he smirks and rubs his thumb along your bottom lip.

“Well don’t you look happy to be used some more.” Jonathan says, wanting to see you embarrassed as you feel Edward press against your cunt, teasingly pushing the head of his cock in and out of you.

“Beg for me doll, just like you did for Jonathan.”

Gripping Jonathan’s forearms that are keeping you steady and upright on your knees, you turn your head and start to beg quietly. Too quiet for Edward’s liking, so he wraps his hands around your neck. “Come now, you know that isn’t going to cut it. Don’t make me punish you more.”

“Please sir,” you say louder, trying your hardest not to push back for extra stimulation, “please I need you, I need you to fuck me sir.”

After a few more pathetic sounding pleas, Edward pushes in quickly, causing you to lurch forward against Jonathan’s frame. Your gasp echoes around the room, as Edward groans at the sensation. Running his hands over your ass, neck now unrestricted, he savours the moment before starting his steady pace. He was gentler than Jonathan, but no less precise as you feel the pleasure run through you.

“Always feel so good around me.” Edward praises quietly, and you smile happily at the words and accidentally dig your nails in, causing Jonathan to hiss softly.

“Careful darlin’, can still punish you y’know.” He mutters gruffly, moving his hands up to pinch your nipples, giving you a taste of your own medicine.

“Fuck, she got tight at that.” Edward states, “Really are a little masochist aren’t you.”

You giggle softly at his words, turning as best you can to look at him. As he looks over your face, he can’t help but capture your lips in a kiss, swallowing your moans. His hand cups your cheek, moving your mouths together as he keeps snapping his hips against your own.

After you both pull away, your head rights itself to face forward, as Jonathan stares at your spit coated lips. You take initiative and kiss him too, which he quickly dominates by holding your neck firmly, controlling the pace. Hearing Edward make an uncharacteristically soft moan behind you only served to make your kiss more desperate, a tongue invading your mouth roughly. Gasping and whining, Jonathan pulls away to hear you, attacking your jawline and neck with his lips.

“Not gonna kiss me too?” Edward taunts towards the other man with a smirk, sounding slightly winded from his thrusts.

“Knew I was gonna regret that.”

“Oh please, as if you-“

Jonathan grabs your jaw, holding you in place as he leans over and kisses Edward once again, shutting the narcissist up. With his grip, you can’t quite turn your head to get a better view but you enjoy the show regardless. As they kiss, Edward speeds up, groaning into Jonathan’s mouth at the dual sensation.

When they pull away again, you swear all three of you moan in sync, the experience by far the most intense you’ve shared. Jonathan mentally curses his age that he can’t get hard again, wanting nothing more than to take your mouth as Edward fucks you from behind. Still, getting the show was a good second option, groping your chest.

You arch your back a little, pleasing both of them as you’re railed mercilessly. At your cries of pleasure, Jonathan starts to rub your clit messily, watching closely at where Edward’s cock is pushing into your cunt. The wet slaps are all you can hear, making your brain feel fuzzy before your boyfriend speaks into your ear.

“Such a good girl for me, for us.”

His words make you involuntarily clench around him, causing Edward’s moans to get louder, gripping your hips tightly. You feel overwhelmed, eyes blurry with pleasured tears as you get closer to your second orgasm. Scrambling, you hold the top of Jonathan’s arms tightly, causing him to laugh under his breath.

“Gettin’ closer ain’t ya?” Jonathan says lowly, keeping up the pressure on your clit. You nod, causing Edward to change his rhythm; clearly trying to last long enough for you to orgasm.

“Need you to cum around me sweetheart.” Edward gets out, his breath catching as he tries his best not to finish.

Nodding, you feel yourself reaching the edge, just as Jonathan wraps his other hand around your neck, applying pressure. “Cum, and maybe I’ll let ya breathe.”

His threat, and the added stimulation, cause you to twitch before cumming hard around your boyfriend, eyes closing. A couple of rough thrusts later, and you’re filled up for the second time, Edward’s release pumping inside of you. Both of you are moaning and gasping for air, before Edward pulls out slowly, watching the mess that drips out of your thoroughly used cunt. If it wasn’t for Jonathan, you’d have completely collapsed on the bed, him holding you up as Edward shuffles around your body to hold your face, turning you towards him.

“Still with me doll?” he asks with a smug smile, but his eyes betray the fact he’s checking on you as his gaze darts over your features. At your nod and weak but giddy grin, he laughs and kisses your cheek, pulling you against him. Jonathan looks as awkward as ever, never quite knowing what to do afterwards. He observes silently as Edward soothingly touches you, before your boyfriend glances up.

“Are you going to sit there like a ghoul, or are you going to make yourself useful and grab a towel.”

Jonathan clicks his jaw in annoyance but does as instructed, making his way into your bathroom and rifling around for a small towel, coming back and cleaning you himself. His way of showing gratitude.

Once you’re suitably cleaned up, you cling to Edward like you always do, as he basks in the afterglow and your attention solely on him. Jonathan clears his throat, the weight of the encounter really settling on him now. Not only did he partake in sharing you again, but now he’s kissed his criminal partner, this’ll certainly…complicate things in his mind. Mainly because he’s already reminiscing about it.

“Well, guess this does make up f’you bein’ an ass Nygma.” Jonathan says, maintaining his aloof nature.

“Yes I thought so.” Edward says with a cheeky grin, “I suppose I have my own personal get out of jail free card.”

You slap him playfully at that comment, causing him to mock pout at you and theatrically rub his arm, before Jonathan scoffs. “Yeah right, as if that’ll work with anyone but me. Why don’t you suggest it to the bat next time he bruises y’pretty face.”

“I am pretty Jon, thank you for finally noticing.” Edward retorts, causing Jonathan to roll his eyes. “And obviously that wouldn’t work, Selina has him on a tight leash I’m sure.”

In a strange sort of way, their bickering is almost comforting to you as you continue to relax in Edward’s embrace. His arms hold you, almost instinctively reassuring himself that you’re still his, despite your…well, you aren’t sure what to call the nights like these anymore. But as you look between them both, and how Jonathan has made no attempt to leave the bed again, and seems to have actually sat closer, you can’t deny how excited this new prospect makes you.

“…I think she’ll agree I fucked her better though, as her boyfriend.”

200 notes · View notes

skzpvol · 5 months ago

Text

⇢ ˗ˏˋ things your skz!bf would do - han jisung ࿐ྂ

pairing: idol!han x fem!reader

genre: fluff, crack, angst, slightly suggestive

words: 1,4k

a/n: hiii, it’s been a while! I’ve started writing this back in march / april, but then I forgot to post it. Anyways, this one-shot is inspired by this tiktok that I found really cute. I’ll try to do the other members if I have time! Remember english is not my first language, so make sure to tell me if I made some mistakes. As always, I’d appreciate if you could write your opinion about this and yeah, I hope you’ll enjoy it. Have a nice day / night ❤️

kisses you on your forehead before sleeping

You already had your eyes closed when you heard the door of your bedroom open. The sound of rain slamming lightly on the window, the warmth of the blankets and the thought that you might wake up late the next day were all reasons that would put anyone to sleep at once.

Yet you could not turn off your mind by feeling the right side of your empty bed. In fact, it was when you felt the blankets move and a hand resting lightly on your cheek that you sighed with relief.

Jisung knew you were still awake, but he also knew how much you wanted to fall asleep. So he decided that he would spare the gossip for the next day.

He came closer to your forehead and gave you a light kiss, then put a lock of your hair behind your ear. If you had opened your eyes now you would have seen all the love and affection reflected in his eyes.

«Good night babe, I love you immensely»

And it was there that your stomach did a somersault. You only hoped he wouldn’t feel the heart that was practically destroying your chest.

You would have made sure to wake up by giving him a kiss on the forehead, and telling him how much you loved him completely.

makes you feel like you’re the only person on this planet for him

«jisung, i swear if you don’t help me-» the laughter of jisung became even louder and, although you were about to fall, that sound made all your worries disappear.

You don’t know how you got the idea to go skating, but now you were regretting it bitterly.

«okay okay babe, i’ll help you» jisung came over to the skating rink and took you from life.

«stay with me and don’t think of anything ok?» you did as he told you and you embraced him tightly. Your face suddenly landed on his chest and you let go, to the beat of his heart.

«now close your eyes and breathe slowly» you don’t know how long it’s been but you would have done anything to make time stop there, at that moment.

«good job, babe. Now, do you think you are ready to move?» you nodded and opened your eyes slowly. But the thing you didn’t expect was jisung who held you closer for life.

«jisung, what are you doing?» you chuckled and that made a smile on the boy’s lips.

«let me guide you my love» he kissed your hand before continuing. «do you trust me?» her eyes shone.

«of course i trust you» and that was enough for Jisung. It pushed you slightly away from him by holding hands. And before you could do anything else, he started to spin you around.

And he also began to move with you in the music time.

«ji, you know people are watching right?»

«I don’t care, let them be. I’m just dancing with my girlfriend!»

It was just you and him at that moment. And if the world had exploded, you probably wouldn’t have even noticed.

often texts you that he misses you when you both are far away from each other

You had just set foot in your apartment when you heard the phone vibrate. The moment you read the message, a smile made room on your face.

sungie☁️: babeeee, did you get home safe?

you: sungie, you literally called when I was on my way home

sungie☁️: I know my love, I just miss you too much

If you had just entered the apartment, Jisung had been in bed for a few hours and couldn’t sleep. Being away from you has never been so exhausting. It was two months since the tour had started, but it seemed that time had stood still.

you: I miss you too jisung, you don’t even have an idea

you: just one week left and then we will be together again

you: we still have a few episodes of jjk to watch :))

Jisung already felt his heart lighter and thought that he could fall asleep faster at that moment.

you: btw, how did the rehearsals go?

sungie☁️: all good, especially when changbin hyung almost fell of the stage

you: WAIT FR??? CAN I FT YOU? I WANT TO KNOW EVERY SINGLE DETAIL.

Yes, Jisung would have slept well that night.

stares at your lips when you are speaking to him

«the professor assigned us an essay about a book that-» jisung wasn’t listening to you. Or rather he tried. But after a bad day, the only thing he could think of was being in your arms.

The moment you opened the door, he knew that today he would probably be entirely devoted to you. He wasn’t usually very clingy, but often happened that he didn’t want to come off.

And of course it didn’t bother you, but every time he caught you unprepared.

And while you were talking, Jisung kept wondering what you would have done if he kissed you so unexpectedly. Your eyebrows frowning for concentration, your chubby and red cheeks, probably for the heat, and your lips. Jisung always thought your lips were the most attractive part of your body. They moved so softly as you talked about the things you loved.

And most of all, they were soft. Soft as silk. The softest lips Jisung had ever seen. He would spend hours kissing you. He’d probably kiss you for the rest of your life if he could and-

«sungie, are you listening?» you brought him back to the planet earth again, after you had noticed that you were now talking with emptiness.

Jisung looked at you again but didn’t answer. He only hoped that you would notice how focused he was on your lips.

«You weren’t listening, were you?» you tilted your head slightly and gave him a slight smile. Your hand gently rested on his cheek and Jisung let go of your touch.

«I swear that I was trying. It’s just» he interrupted and looked at your lips again.

«Can I kiss you?» His words came out of his lips as if they were a whisper but they were strong enough to make your heart beat wildly. Exactly like the first time he asked you.

You did not answer him and eliminated the distance that was between you.

calls you “honey” while he’s comforting you when you are crying

You hated coming home late. But most of all, you hated coming home late on your boyfriend’s only day off. So you were on the couch, at 3 o'clock and an anime in the background, while jisung had you in his arms.

«it was an awful day» you leaned your head on his shoulder, while jisung turned down the volume of the television.

«you wanna talk about it?» Jisung turned slowly and clenched your hand. But you waited to answer and closed your eyes. You tried to concentrate on his scent, his heartbeat and his moderate breath. But no matter how hard you tried, the emotions were slowly getting the better of me and tears threatened to come out.

«you know, we can just stay here and keep watching hanako-kun» you don’t even know why, but after that sentence you decided to let yourself go crying. A cry of liberation, which you had held back for too long. Jisung turned immediately and could not help feeling powerless in the face of your tears.

«Hey honey, I’m here, don’t worry. Whatever it’s going on in that pretty head of yours, everything will be fine» his arms wrapped you in one of the warmest hugs someone had ever given you. Jisung didn’t even care that you were wetting his sweatshirt. The only thing he thought about was making you feel better and make you feel at home.

«i’m here if you want to talk, i’m here if you want to cry, i’m here for everything you want to do» he cupped your cheeks, while his thumbs dried the tears.

For a while neither of you said anything. Jisung was too busy giving his best to make you understand that whatever happened, he was by your side. You hated being seen like that. You hated it, because you knew how vulnerable Jisung was and the last thing you wanted was for him to be hurt by you.

«i-i’m sorry, i didn’t want to cry, it’s just» you blocked but jisung came closer to you. Without saying anything I urged you to speak. «I feel overwhelmed by everything, I don’t even know what makes me so angry in particular»

«honey, you are not forced to talk okay? If you are still feeling uncomfortable, I’ll just wait until you find the right words, as always» Jisung gave you a light kiss on the forehead, before hugging you again.

259 notes · View notes

runnning-outof-time · 8 months ago

Text

The Joys of Being a Girl Dad | Tommy Shelby & Alfie Solomons (set in Girl Dad series)

Request: no - written for @justrainandcoffee ‘s 2 year ‘Alfieversary’

Pairing: Tommy Shelby (x Reader mentioned) & Alfie Solomons (x fem!OC & child OC mentioned)

Summary: Tommy stops by Margate to congratulate an old associate…adversary…friend.

Warnings: language (it’s Tommy and Alfie we’re talking about here), a slight bit of Cyril slander

A/N: I’m sorry it took me soooo long to write something for your celebration, Flor!! I guess I could call this a present for Rose’s 1 year anniversary too now, even though she’s not really in it. Thank you for sharing this beautiful au with us!!

A/N 2: I should also say that this story was supposed to be shorter, but I just kinda became invested and ran away with it…I hope you don’t mind. Also it’s been a bit since I’ve written for Alfie, so I hope he’s not too ooc here. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! — YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged!

“Who let you in?” the man who was sitting facing the open balcony door asked.

“How’d you know it was me?” the other man, who was standing at the entrance of the room, responded with his own question.

“Smelt the smoke and horse shit the second you stepped through that archway,” the first man mused, earning a snort from the second. “So I’ll ask again: who let you in?”

“Your wife…”

“Figures she did,” the first man cut the second off, muttering the comment under his breath.

“Your wife’s assistant let me in after she told me to get lost and slammed the door in my face,” the rest of the statement was shared, which made the first man finally spin in his seat to look back towards the archway.

Silence hung in the air for a few moments, the two men staring at each other from several paces away…much like they had on that fated day all those months ago. “So why didn’t ya listen to her?” the first man finally broke the quiet, his quip conjoined with a look of query.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Alfie?” the second man asked, his eyebrows just slightly raised.

“It has,” the first man nodded, pursing his lips together for a moment before he continued, “yet it is still sooner than the day in which I thought I’d see Tommy Shelby again.”

Tommy Shelby just shook his head at the man’s remark, looking at the ground as he pursed his lips. It didn’t faze him in the slightest.

“Why’re you here then?” Alfie asked, still wanting to get to the bottom of the Birmingham man’s presence. However, he interjected again before said man even had the chance to speak: “you’ve come to finish me off, haven’t ya? Since ya couldn’t get it right the first time.”

“I’ve come with something,” Tommy answered, not even bothering to respond to Alfie’s second comment.

He then stepped towards the chair that the other man was sitting in, his hands still behind his back. Anyone else would have wondered if maybe they’d got it right…maybe he was actually there to finish his old adversary off. But Alfie wasn’t bothered in the slightest. No, he could tell from the manner in which Tommy approached him.

“I want to offer a congratulations…on your daughter,” Tommy finished his statement once he was standing in front of Alfie. Alfie looked him over with raised eyebrows, wondering just how a busy, business-minded man like him would have gotten such information. “(Y/N) told me the news. She got word of it from Rose,” Tommy gave the curious man some more information.

“That Rosie…” Alfie mused with a slight shake of his head, “I had a feelin’ that she hadn’t cut off all contact with you Shelbys.” He couldn’t help but smile at the thought of his wife still keeping up a regular correspondence with the wife of the man who’d shot him.

(Y/N) and Rose had hit it off practically from the moment they met each other. Their friendship went beyond their husbands’ business partnership, and so when one disgruntled husband aimed a gun at the other and pulled the trigger, the two women tried hard not to let it come completely between them. There some time where radio silence prevailed…actually most out the time over the course of the last year was filled with radio silence, but it didn’t seem like a beat was missed when Rose contacted (Y/N) to tell her of the newest addition to the Solomons family.

Although Tommy was more hesitant to make amends, he couldn’t deny his wife’s request to deliver something to the newest Solomons.

“She wanted me to give you this,” Tommy then said, finally revealing the tan, stuffed rabbit that he’d brought with him. “To give to her,” he included, making his intentions more clear.

“I knew you weren’t givin’ me a stuffed rabbit,” Alfie quipped, snorting to himself before continuing, “or at least I hope you were plannin’ to.”

“I wasn’t planning on doing that, Alfie, no,” Tommy shook his head, dismissing the comment before it gained any ground. “The rabbit’s for your girl.”

Alfie took a moment to look over the other man again. He was still holding the rabbit out in front of him, waiting for Alfie to take it. Tommy wondered how long Alfie was going to make him stand like this.

Finally he took it. “She’ll like it,” Alfie stated, eyeing over the animal from close up now. He couldn’t deny that it felt soft in his hands. Allie would surely love it. “Thanks, Tommy.”

“My three couldn’t go to bed without it,” Tommy commented, a small smile gracing his lips as he thought of his three daughters and the love they had for that very stuffed rabbit.

A look of realization flashed across Alfie’s face as he heard Tommy’s comment. He brought his hand up to his jaw and ran it down his cheek slowly, stroking his beard as if he was in thought. “Have a seat,” he then said, gesturing to the chair that was set directly across from the one he was sitting in. He waited until the other man was seated before continuing, “three girls, huh?” he mused, sounding like he was talking more so to himself than anything.

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded in response.

“A proper girl dad,” Alfie commented then.

“A what?” Tommy asked with furrowed eyebrows.

“You’re a dad that’s got all girls, hence the fucking term girl dad…stick with it, Tommy,” the response came laden with derision.

Tommy raised his eyebrows at the other man’s comments, looking to the ground as he let the air cool off before he cleared his throat and nodded his head. “Yeah, a girl dad then.” He ran a hand along the back of his head as he spoke, wondering if he was even using the term correctly. Alfie didn’t comment, so he guessed that he didn’t seem to care none.

Instead the newer father continued on with the conversation. “Does it ever get hard?”

“What? Being a girl dad?” Tommy looked over at him again.

“No, not being able to hit your fucking mark when you’re fifteen fucking paces away,” Alfie retorted, “yes, being a girl dad,” he then exaggerated his words.

Tommy bit his tongue yet again. He wasn’t here to get into a fight with Alfie Solomons. The rabbit currently sitting in the other man’s lap was supposed to serve as a sort of olive branch.

“It does,” he finally answered after a moment’s pause.

“Give me some fuckin’ detail, mate,” Alfie asked.

“Fuckin’ hell, Alfie,” Tommy sighed under his breath, pressing the pads of his thumbs against his eyelids. He cleared his throat again as he thought of how he’d answer the question. “It’s been hard from the moment we brought Thea home. A different sort of hard than the ‘hard’ I’ve experienced prior. But it’s also been rewarding...with Thea, then Evie and now Juniper. I’ve learned more from them than from anything else I’ve ever done.”

Alfie took a moment to digest what his confidant had just shared with him. He truly didn’t expect Tommy Shelby to come out with such meaningful statements. I guess even the worst of men can change their tones, he thought to himself. “I didn’t know ya had it in ya, Tommy,” he commented, exuding a breath of a laugh as he shook his head.

Tommy kept his eyes locked on Alfie unsure of how to respond to his comment. He wondered if this was all some sort of game…if Alfie now wanted to toy with him; getting him to open up just to use the information against him.

“Thanks for sharing it though. I, uh…” Alfie paused, the sound of his voice cutting through Tommy’s thoughts and making him focus in again. “I’ll take all of the help I can get with this one. They say that raising a child takes a fucking village, or however that fucking saying goes.”

“There’s a great deal of joy in it too,” Tommy made sure to add, hoping to convey that having daughters, or kids at all for that matter, wasn’t only stressful. “I just know that I wouldn’t be able to do it without (Y/N) though.”

“That’s the same with me and my Rosie. A fuckin’ trooper, that woman is,” Alfie agreed in regards to his wife. Truthfully, he wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for Rose Solomons. He genuinely owed his life to her…and he was going to spend the rest of it showing her.

Silence fell between the two men then, both sitting comfortably in their thoughts of the women they had in their lives, and of how much their respective wives meant to them. The silence hung until the sound of small feet came pattering off of the hardwood in the hallway.

“Daddy! Daddy!” a shrill voice of a small girl soon accompanied the hurried footsteps. Said girl quickly appeared in the archway of Alfie office. Along with her frantic demeanor, Alfie was also able to see streaks of tears on her chreks.

“What’s wrong, Allie?” he asked her, his brows furrowing together.

“Cyril chewed on my stuffie, daddy!” she exclaimed, hiccuping as she spoke through her tears. “It was my favorite stuffie!”

“Awe now love, I’m sorry about that,” Alfie began, opening his arms to the child as she came over to him. She quickly fell into them, and he wasted no time in hugging her tightly. “He’s just a brute that knows nothing of favorite stuffies,” he consoled her as she continued to sniffle her tears away.

Tommy watched on as the moment played out in front of him. He laughed to himself as hearing the reason behind the problem at hand took him back to the moments where Cyril had chewed his girls’ stuffies; there had to have been several instances during the dog’s stay at Arrow House.

“I don’t have a stuffie now, daddy,” Allie whimpered, finally lifting her head from her father’s chest. “Mum said it was too covered in slobber to be saved.”

“Well I’ve got just the fix for ya, Allie,” Alfie began, unwrapping one of his arms from her so that he could blindly search for the stuffed rabbit that Tommy had just handed him. He continued when he found the animal, “now I know it’s no bear, and I know that your favorite stuffies have all been bears, but this lovely little lass was just placed upon my lap moments before you came runnin’ in.”

Allie’s eyes immediately found the rabbit, and she had it in her tight embrace within an instant. “This stuffie is so soft! And she has a lovely bow!” she observed, now beaming with excitement. “Thank you so much, daddy!” she smiled at her father.

“Thanks have to go to that man,” Alfie told his daughter, nodding in Tommy’s direction. He bit his tounge and stopped the urge to add ‘the one who shot your father’ because even he knew this wasn’t the time for that. He didn’t want to bring that feud into Allie’s realm.

“What’s his name?” Allie asked in a loud whisper, her shy eyes finding Tommy’s.

“Tell ‘er your name, mate,” Alfie beckoned Tommy to share the information.

“It’s Tommy,” the other man followed suit, smiling as he spoke.

Allie observed him for a moment, surely trying to decide what she felt about him. A few beats of silence passed before a smile formed on her face. “Thank you, Mr. Tommy,” she said in a small voice.

“You’re welcome, Allie,” Tommy nodded, his smile widening.

“Dad you have to yell at Cyril now,” Allie turned back to her dad, a deep frown present on her face.

“I’ll make sure he knows what he’s done,” Alfie assured her, “go play, love.”

With one last smile, Allie hopped off of her father’s lap and exited the room almost as quick as she entered it.

“That fuckin’ dog…” Alfie trailed off, shaking his head, “why’d you give him back?”

“You wanted him back, Alfie,” Tommy answered in a monotone voice.

“You may be right,” Alfie conceded, cracking a smile as he thought about the dog.

“Your daughter’s lovely,” Tommy commented.

“She is, ain’t she?” Alfie answered, “light of my fuckin’ life, that girl…both her and her mum.”

Tommy nodded, his mind going to his wife and daughters. There was no doubt that he shared the same sentiment towards his girls.

Oh, the joys of being a girl dad…even if — or rather when, because it’ll surely happen again — Tommy and Alfie were at odds with each other, they’ll always have the shared title as something they can both relate to.

MASTERLIST

The Story of Rose and Alfie

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @notyour-valentine @theshelbyslimited

@peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss

@alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl

@emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife

@anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08

@insanitybyanothername @depxiety @justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter

@cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable

@thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife @jomarch-wannabe @ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo

293 notes · View notes

cameronspecial · 1 year ago

Note

Maybe high school/college au where rafe is in a group of bullies that always picks on reader, However he tries to tell them to stop every time but one day he sees her crying in the bathroom at a Halloween party because his friends told her costume was ugly and it made her look fat, he gets super mad and he yell at them and beat the shit out of his ex friend for calling her fat, after he brings her back home and she ask him why he cared and he says something like “I’ve liked you since first day of second grade in middle school when you came in class with your little bow in your hair” 🥰🥰

Shit Friends

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Use of Fat In Deragotory Way, and a Fight.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Masterlist

Y/N has been excited about Marissa’s Halloween party for weeks. Her Halloween costume is a beautiful white dress that she worked all month to sew. She is going to the party as a bride and the dress is a reflection of what she wants her wedding dress to look like one day. She is so proud of her costume. Her hand grips the solo cup and she bops her head to the music. She feels their presence behind her like an ulcer she knows is there but can’t feel. Her head doesn’t turn in their direction, trying to ignore them. “Look at this boys, this fat fuck thinks someone is going to want to marry her. Not only is her dress ugly, but her face looks like a cow,” Marshall snarls, pulling back her head by her veil. Her tears come up her tear ducts and she feels how her hair pulls back with his action. Oliver shakes his head, “Nah, Marsh. She looks like a whale. I don’t know how anyone could want to marry her.” Their insults can’t continue because someone else enters the room, allowing her to make her escape to the bathroom.

——

After one too many beers, Rafe finally has to break his bladder seal and go to the bathroom. He tries the door but is met with resistance from the lock. His hand knocks on the door yet no one answers. He knows someone is in there because he can hear movement inside. His ear presses to the door and he can make out the cries of a girl. “I know you are in there. Please, let me in. I got to pee,” Rafe calls out.

Y/N recognizes his voice. Of course, she would. Not only is Rafe one of the most popular boys at school, but he is friends with her serial tormentors. Rafe is never around when the other boys bully her, yet she still doesn’t know if she can trust him. She feels bad though that he needs to pee so she unlocks it for him. He hears the lock turn and opens the door. Even though he has to pee, he pauses when he sees Y/N. Her costume looks absolutely amazing. He can tell the dress is handmade because of how well it suits her body and some of the embroidery looks hand-stitched. It looks incredible. His mind can’t help imagining her walking down the aisle to him at the end of it. He remembers he heard the cries of the person behind the door and since she is the one in the bathroom, he knows she has been crying. His eyes find hers to see her makeup running down her face, close to ruining her dress.

He abandons his need to pee and rushes to her side. “Who made you cry?” he questions with anger at that person in his voice. She tries to keep it a secret, but he keeps prying. Finally, she snaps, “It was Marshall and Oliver. They said my dress was ugly and made me look like a fat whale.” Just like she thought he would, Rafe leaves without a care for what she said.

The yelling is what catches her attention, so she goes outside to find Rafe punching Marshall and Oliver in the face. “Never. Say. Those. Words. To. Y/N. Again. Understand?” Each word he said was punctuated by a hit to his face. He looks up at her, shaking out his hand. “Why do you care enough about what they said to hurt them like that, Rafe?” “Y/N, I’ve liked you since the first day of second grade in elementary school. You came into class with your little embroidered bows at the end of your two braids. I was mesmerized by how good you were at sewing,” he confesses and takes a step closer to her. She is still a little confused, “But they're your friends.” “Eh, I’ve got shit friends. But who needs them when I hopefully have you?” he states, rushing toward her to kiss her. She lets her lips meet his and he feels like his dreams are coming true.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

411 notes · View notes

steddieas-shegoes · 9 months ago

Note

hiii not sure if you’re still taking requests but

no upside down au where teen single dad steve approaches eddie after hellfire bc every parenting stuff keeps mentioning how reading to babies is super important for their development but his dyslexia makes reading so hard let alone be expressive w it too and the kids keep mentioning how eddie is amazing on dnd. eddie is skeptical cause how come no ones has heard of king steve’s one year old ? but he accepts when steve offers paying but after seeing steve w his baby and understanding how he changed he refuses the money and cue them slowly falling in love and becoming a family <333

Sorry this took *checks watch* like 9 months to finish! I kinda took some creative turns, but it's done!

read on ao3

rated t | 5,182 words | no cw | tags: mostly fluff, single parent steve, not canon compliant, mutual pining, getting together, love confessions

📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚

Early August 1985

“Steve, it’s not like he’s gonna fuckin’ bite, dude,” Dustin said from the passenger seat.

“Language.”

“She’s not even awake,” Dustin whisper yelled. “I promise he’s cool. The worst he’ll say is no. It’s not like he’s gonna bully you.”

“No one else knows I’m asking him this, right?” Steve was suddenly worried that all the kids knew about Steve’s learning disability and they’d think he was actually stupid and-

“No, it’s just me. But if you don’t hurry up and go in before everyone else gets here, they’ll find out.”

Steve glanced in the backseat, smiling to himself at his sleeping daughter. She’d been out for nearly the entire drive from his house to Dustin’s to the high school, so she’d probably be waking up within the next 20 minutes and she’d be ready to stretch her legs.

She was a squirmy thing from the moment she figured out how to scoot around the floor, and it only got worse when she learned to walk at 11 months. The only time she was still and staying out of trouble was when she was asleep.

“If she starts crying, just sit back there with her. She just likes having company,” Steve reminded him as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

“Yep. I’ve literally babysat for you before. I can handle her for 5 minutes.”

“Attitude.” Steve shook his head and opened the door, getting out and only closing the door most of the way so it wouldn’t wake her up.

Eddie always showed up 30 minutes early for Hellfire Club to set up according to Dustin. He took this club very seriously, even as a third year senior. He kept it running all summer so that incoming freshmen would have time to get acquainted with his style of DMing or whatever.

Steve respected the dedication, though he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe that dedication were put into his homework, he would’ve graduated in May with Steve.

But Steve couldn’t actually judge. Not with the fact that he was pretty close to not graduating himself. He had a pretty good reason, but still.

The auditorium door closed loudly behind him, making him jump and clench his jaw painfully.

“Door’s broken. You gotta hold it while it closes so it doesn’t slam,” a voice said from the door to the backstage area.

Steve squinted through the semi-darkness and felt his stomach turn. Eddie.

“I guess it’s been a while since I’ve had to open it. Figured they would have fixed it by now,” Steve replied, walking closer to the guy he needed to talk to.

“No shit! Is that King Steve? In the flesh?” Eddie’s dramatics were endearing, even if it was slightly annoying that he pulled out the stupid high school nickname he’d lost well before he graduated.

“Yeah,” Steve sighed. This wasn’t gonna go well.

“Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but none of your precious kiddos have made it yet. It’s still early.”

Steve nodded. “One of them’s sitting in my car in the parking lot. Um, Henderson? He’s an incoming freshman.”

“Ah. Dustin’s got a place in Hellfire if you’re worried. I don’t turn anyone away who wants to be here.”

“No, no, that’s not it.” Steve needed to just spit it out. “He said you’re like, great at storytelling or whatever. Like you’re the best DM he’s ever seen and he knows I could use those skills for something.”

“Oh? What could Steve Harrington need DM skills for?”

“My daughter.”

The silence following his confession was louder than the door slamming only a minute ago.

He probably could’ve revealed his motives a little better, work up to the fact that he even had a daughter maybe. Very few people actually knew, and he had to keep it that way until he could leave his parent’s house.

“Your…daughter.”

“Yes. She’s just turned one and the doctors said reading to her is like, super important for learning words and helping her learn how to have an imagination and stuff. And I do read to her!” Steve suddenly felt worried that Eddie would think he was a bad parent. “I try to. But I’m, well, Nancy says it’s dyslexia? So words are kinda hard and it gives me a headache if I try to read for more than a few minutes and I’m so busy focusing on the words I don’t think I’m making it very fun for her-“

“Woah. Steve. Slow down.” Eddie braced his hand on Steve’s shoulder and squeezed. “I didn’t even know you had a daughter. Does anyone know you have a daughter?”

“The kids do, yeah. My parents do because they kinda helped cover it all up and made sure I still graduated so I didn’t embarrass them or whatever.” Steve looked down at the floor, shoving his hands in his pockets. He didn’t really want to go through the whole thing with this guy. “Robin Buckley knows? She’s my best friend. The Byers and Wheelers, Hopper. Some teachers know but were sworn to secrecy.”

“Huh.”

Steve looked up to see Eddie stepping closer to him, soft smile on his face.

“So what do you need me for exactly?”

“Dustin said you’re really good at telling stories and I figured maybe you would be willing to read to her? Not every day, like I can work with your schedule or whatever. Evening would be best for me, but it’s not really a big deal if it has to be other times. She comes to work with me so if it had to be during the day, you could sit in the office or something, I dunno.” Steve shrugged. He hated asking for help. But Dustin insisted Eddie was actually a good guy and would keep his secret. No one who saw her at work assumed Steve Harrington was a single parent at 18. That would just be absurd. “I just don’t want her to miss out.”

Eddie’s hand drifted down his arm, holding his hand for a moment before he stepped back.

“My schedule is kinda random. But I’m sure we can work something out.”

Steve’s shoulders fell as his body relaxed. “Yeah? I can pay you. Not much. My parents mostly cut me off.” Steve was scrambling. “I can give you gas money and stuff for having to come to us. And like, food? I can cook.”

Eddie’s eyes were intense, watching his every move, making him nervous.

“How ‘bout a free trial? I’ll do it for a couple weeks and then we can see about payment.”

Steve nodded eagerly. “Yeah, yeah. Cool.” Jesus, he was embarrassing. What happened to his charm? “Would you be able to start soon?”

“Normally, I’d say I can come by after Hellfire, but I have an…appointment right after tonight. I can come by tomorrow?”

Steve smiled. “Tomorrow’s good. I work until five.”

“I can be at your house by seven.”

“Great! I have plenty of books. Right now, she’s really into Old Macdonald, but I think it’s just because it sorta sounds like her name and we get to make silly noises,” Steve smiled to himself, not seeing the way Eddie was smiling too. “I think she’ll probably like whatever you read to her, though.”

“What’s her name?”

“Mackenzie. Robin read it in a book and said it meant fire-born or something? It sounded cool. We call her Mac or Kenzie for short so she hears Macdonald and thinks we’re giving her another nickname,” Steve laughed. “Anyway, I better get back to the car. If she’s awake and Dustin has to deal with her crying for too long, he gets an attitude.”

“Mackenzie. I like it.” Eddie nodded once. “See you tomorrow, Stevie.”

Steve agreed and waved, turning around to leave. By the time he realized Eddie’s nickname for him, Eddie was already backstage.

****

Steve was nervous.

He nearly burnt the chicken he was cooking for dinner just from getting distracted by thoughts of Eddie being in his home.

He didn’t even know why. Maybe it was the fact that he’d always thought Eddie was kinda rough around the edges and was surprised he’d agreed so easily. Maybe it was bringing someone new into the small group he’d had around for a couple years. Maybe it was the way Eddie’s hand on his shoulder seemed to leave a permanent mark despite being one of the softest touches he’d felt from another adult in a while.

Mackenzie was in her high chair already, eating some of the noodles he’d made as a side. She’d been practicing using a fork, so quite a few had fallen on the floor, but Steve still smiled and told her she did a great job any time she managed to get one to her mouth.

The doorbell rang and Steve felt his heart stop.

“Daddy!” Mackenzie squealed when the bell rang. She knew that usually meant Hopper was here. Everyone else just came inside on their own. “Hop!”

“No, baby, not Hop. Not tonight. It’s my friend, Eddie. He’s gonna tell you a fun story, okay?” Steve ran his hands through her hair as he walked by to get the door.

When he opened the door, Eddie was standing there with a handful of books, a box of crayons, and what looked like a hairbow.

“I’m here to entertain the princess!” Eddie exclaimed. “Lead me to her highness!”

Steve couldn’t hide the grin on his face if he wanted to. “She’s currently trying to stab noodles to death. I’m sure you’ll be entertained.”

“Ah, they must have wronged her. I’ll assist,” Eddie made his way past Steve, walking towards the kitchen.

Steve knew he’d been to a couple of the parties he threw to sell, but had no idea he remembered the layout of his house. Maybe he had one of those picture minds.

As Steve entered the kitchen, he noticed that Eddie had set down the pile of books on the counter before he sat down in front of Mackenzie.

There were a few books he recognized: an ABC book that he was pretty sure he’d had when he was a kid but had since lost, a book of fairy tales with Rapunzel on the cover, something by Beatrix Potter, and a couple of coloring books that featured princesses and dragons and horses.

“She isn’t really old enough to color, is she?” Steve asked, interrupting what must have been a very amusing conversation of mostly babbling. “I don’t have any coloring stuff.”

“Coloring with skill? No. She definitely doesn’t have the motor skills to color in the lines or even use the right colors for the right things. But it does help her learn how to hold a crayon. My uncle couldn’t really afford much when I was a baby, so for every Christmas until I was in school he would get me new crayons and coloring books. I don’t really remember how I did, but I do remember having fun.” Eddie turned back to Mackenzie. “And sometimes it’s fun to just make a mess, right?”

Mackenzie clapped her hands together, sending the toddler fork she’d been using to the floor with a noodle attached to it. Steve wordlessly grabbed one of her spoons from the drawer and gave it to her, kissing the top of her head before he knelt down to pick up the fork.

Eddie watched silently, something soft about the way he didn’t interrupt anything even though he could’ve kept talking.

“I made chicken and pasta. It’s probably not my best work, but I made enough for you if you haven’t eaten yet,” Steve offered as he walked to the stove to start plating the food for himself.

“I wouldn’t turn it down. Wayne’s not exactly known for serving five star meals,” Eddie joked. “He believes in the power of fried bologna and cheese sandwiches with a bag of chips.”

Steve grimaced. “Okay, well I made enough for you to bring home some leftovers too.”

“You don’t have to-”

“You’re taking home leftovers.”

Steve turned to see Eddie’s widened eyes and open mouth that slowly formed into a smile.

“I guess I’m taking home some leftovers.” He turned to Mackenzie and tickled her neck. “Your daddy is pushy isn’t he?”

Steve blushed, but continued making up a plate for Eddie.

As they sat and ate, Eddie talked about all of his favorite books for little kids, and how he remembered sneaking into the library after school for years because he knew he didn’t wanna go home. He talked about the first time a teacher wrote a positive letter home, an English teacher who said his fictional essay was the best in the class and he should consider writing as a career. He even talked about his plans for the school year campaigns, but made Steve swear not to mention anything to the kids.

“I’ll know if you tell them,” Eddie winked.

Steve believed him.

When they were done, Steve grabbed Mackenzie from her chair.

“I’m gonna give her a quick bath if you wanna bring all that stuff to her room. Second floor, third door on the right. It’s a little messy right now. Someone decided to pull all her toys from her box yesterday and I haven’t had time to clean it up,” Steve tickled Mackenzie’s side, making her giggle and turn her head into his shoulder.

“You need me to clean this up?” Eddie asked, gesturing to the table.

“Nah, I’ll do it while you read to her.”

Despite his efforts, bath time was never truly quick. Mackenzie loved to splash around and play with her toys, and if he tried to wash her hair too quickly, she would be grumpy for the rest of the night. He definitely didn’t want that for Eddie.

He set a timer for 10 minutes and tried to explain to a very excited Mackenzie that when the timer went off, it would be time to wash her hair and get out.

“You wanna have time to play with Eddie, so we can’t play for too long in the water.”

She didn’t seem to pay any attention to him, already too busy making her rubber duck fight with her mermaid Barbie.

He observed while she played, bringing in the rubber car she liked to pretend to drive on the side of the tub.

When the timer went off, she let him wash her hair without a fuss, and he quickly wrapped her up in a towel to get her into pajamas.

Eddie was waiting in her room when he got there, coloring books spread out on the floor. He smiled up at them from where he sat, legs crossed, hands in his lap.

“Squeaky clean?” He asked, waving at Mackenzie.

“Definitely lacking noodles in places noodles shouldn’t be at least,” Steve said, making his way to her changing table to get her dressed. “She must be pretty excited about you being here. Usually bath time takes at least 30 minutes and I have to bribe her with chocolate milk to get out.”

“She knows we’re gonna have a lot of fun. I think I’m gonna read Goodnight Moon first. That’s one of my favorites.”

“She’ll love that,” he said as he buttoned the snaps of her onesie.

As soon as he set her on the floor next to Eddie, she reached for a coloring book with a mermaid on it.

“Daddy! Muh!”

“Yeah, baby, it’s a mermaid! Just like your doll in the bath.” Steve pointed to the fish next to the mermaid. “And that’s a fish. Fish swim in the ocean.”

He felt Eddie’s eyes on him while he pointed to some other sea creatures and told Mackenzie what they were.

Eventually, he looked over at Eddie, blushing at the soft smile on his face. “What?”

“You’re a really good dad, Steve.”

“Oh. Uh. Thanks,” Steve felt heat flood his body.

It’s not that no one had ever said that to him. Robin had told him plenty of times, Joyce had whispered it to him when no one else was paying attention, even Hopper had given him a handshake and said he was doing a good job once. But hearing it from Eddie, in this situation, when he’d been feeling like such a failure lately, was enough to make him want to cry.

He had to get out of this room.

“I should go clean up and leave you to it.”

“Sure, yeah. We’ll be right here.”

Steve booked it out of the room, rushing down the stairs to try to get busy with cleaning before his brain settled on crying over a compliment.

But the table was cleared. The high chair was wiped down. When he turned to the sink, the dishes were stacked up to dry in the rack. The counters were wiped, the dish towel had been put back on the handle of the oven to dry, and leftovers had been put in a container to finish cooling down.

Steve let the tears fall.

Fuck it, if Eddie was going to be this nice, he could have a little cry.

He walked quietly to the bathroom to put all the bath toys in the basket, but stopped outside Mackenzie’s bedroom when he heard giggling.

He’d closed the door halfway, just so she wouldn’t get too distracted if he walked by the room, but he couldn’t help looking in.

He felt like crying again when he saw Mackenzie sitting on Eddie’s lap, pointing at something in the book.

“Where’s the moon?” Eddie asked.

“Moo!” Mackenzie said, smacking at a place in the book.

“There’s the moon! Good job, little one.” Mackenzie leaned back against Eddie’s chest. “And where’s the…toys?”

She pointed again, but slightly less enthusiastically. Steve could see her energy dropping quickly.

He watched as Eddie told her she did a good job again and then continued reading.

Her eyes drooped more with every page. Eddie’s voice got closer to a whisper with every sentence.

Steve fell just a little bit more with every second that passed.

*****

October 1985

Eddie came every day. Despite the fact that Steve insisted he didn’t need to, that he didn’t want to ruin his schedule, Eddie showed up like clockwork at seven every single evening.

Steve learned to expect him, always made enough dinner for all of them to enjoy before Mackenzie had her bath and then got to read with Steve.

Every night, Eddie would clean up while she took a bath, and every night, he’d let her pick a page to color while he read something to her, switching to a bedtime story when she started crawling into his lap.

Steve would watch them often, laying down on the carpet and smiling as he listened to Eddie use different voices for characters, asking her questions so she was involved, and whispering when she started to drift off.

Other times, he’d try to get something done he’d been putting off, like cleaning the bathroom or folding laundry.

Eddie never accepted payment.

Steve tried bringing it up once school started, certain that this time spent here could’ve been better spent on homework or a part-time job that paid better than what Steve could offer. Eddie just shook his head and insisted that other than Hellfire every Thursday, he would be there for free.

They got to know each other over dinner, and Steve found that he was right to have butterflies every time Eddie smiled at him, every time he would touch his hand as he walked by to say hi to Mackenzie.

“Halloween costume ideas?” Eddie asked with his mouth full. Steve had given up long ago on trying to get him to wait until he was done chewing. It wasn’t that big of a deal. “What did this little miss go as last year?”

“Oh. She was a bumblebee.” Steve smiled at the memory. “Cutest costume I saw all night.”

“I bet.” Eddie took a sip of his water. “And you?”

“Oh, I didn’t dress up.”

“What? Why not?” Eddie sounded genuinely upset.

“Just got away from me, I guess? By the time I thought about it, nothing good was left at the store,” Steve shrugged, unbothered. He’d never been that into Halloween. His focus was making sure Mackenzie had fun.

“And no one offered to help you make something?” Eddie was no longer eating and Mackenzie had turned her attention to him when his tone became serious.

“I didn’t ask.”

“But no one offered.” Eddie stood up and walked over to his backpack. “Okay, we’ve gotta plan. Did you already pick something for her?”

He came back holding a notebook and a pencil, brows set in a straight line. Steve had never seen him look so serious.

“I had a few ideas, but I wanted to let her pick something at the store,” Steve said.

“Lay them on me.”

They discussed costumes for the next 30 minutes, but after only 10, Mackenzie whined to get out of her chair. Eddie wordlessly stood up and picked her up, setting her in his lap and letting her poke and prod at him and his notebook.

Steve watched them both, accepting for the first time that this wasn’t just a crush that was gonna go away.

He’d fallen completely head over heels for Eddie, and he had no clue what to do about it.

*****

November 1985

Steve was the only one who had space to host Thanksgiving.

He became manic a week before, realizing that his work schedule would not allow him to have much time to clean unless he did it at night. The problem was that he would get a migraine if he didn’t sleep.

“So let’s work on it together. I can come right after school. Cancel Hellfire this week,” Eddie offered.

“But you already won’t have it next week because of Thanksgiving. I can’t ask you to-”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. If I’m gonna be eating here, I should probably help clean up at least.”

So they worked on a little at a time.

Eddie wasn’t always helpful, getting distracted by some of the smallest things. But his company was appreciated all the same.

“You could invite Wayne, ya know,” Steve offered while he dusted the shelves in the living room. “Plenty of room and food.”

“Thanks, but he always works Thanksgiving day for the double pay. We usually do something the day after,” Eddie answered while he cleaned up all of Mackenzie’s toys.

“If he decides not to work, just let him know.”

“Will do, Stevie.”

He didn’t just help clean, he helped him do the shopping, too.

“I know it’s way harder with a baby, so if you give me a list, I can handle the shopping,” Eddie said while Steve plated their dinners.

“You don’t-”

“Have to, I know. But I can and will.” Eddie’s hand brushed against Steve’s lower back. “Let me help.”

Steve could barely resist the shiver that took over his entire body.

“Okay. Sure.”

Some of the brands were wrong, and he forgot the apples for the apple pie, but Steve still felt immense relief knowing that he had someone to help.

And without it, Thanksgiving would’ve been a disaster.

It was still a bit of a mess, but that was mostly because the kid’s table turned into a food fight that Max started and Mackenzie, of course, continued, until everyone was involved.

But the picture Jonathan took would get framed and hang up near the fireplace in the living room anyway.

******

December 1985

“I cannot believe you waited until Christmas Eve to wrap gifts. That’s not what parents actually do, is it?” Eddie asked as he fought with the tape dispenser for the fifth time in less than an hour.

“I don’t know if I’m the best judge of what parents do. Mine weren’t around much and probably didn’t even wrap my gifts themselves.” Steve took the tape from him, pulled some loose from the roll, and handed it back. “But I kinda always pictured it like this.”

Robin made him swear he’d talk to Eddie about his feelings before the end of the year. The end of the year was soon, real soon.

What better shot did he have than while Mackenzie was asleep and they were wrapping presents together?

“You pictured last minute wrapping with bribed help in your living room?” Eddie asked, amusement in his tone.

“Not exactly,” Steve huffed out a laugh. “More like spoiling my kid with someone I care about.”

Steve watched Eddie’s hands freeze against the clothes box full of new finger puppets they’d both gotten her. He looked over and felt his stomach swoop as Eddie’s eyes found his.

“Stevie-” Eddie set the box down and turned to face Steve.

“Wait, I just. Before you break my heart, hear me out.” Steve already felt his world shrinking, his heart rabbiting in his chest at the thought of losing Eddie entirely. “I’ve spent a lot of time with you for months. Like, more than almost anyone else. I’ve watched you with Kenzie, and how much she loves you and always asks for ‘Ed’ even when it’s way before when you’re gonna be here. You make me smile and laugh and that’s not always easy to do these days. You helped me when you didn’t have to, when you had absolutely no reason to trust that King Steve was a better person. You’re there for all the other kids even though you’re trying to get through school for real this time. I didn’t really plan a big speech, sorry. This is just rambling, I’m doing what Robin does.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie placed his hand on the side of Steve’s neck. “I get what you’re saying.”

“You do?”

“I think so.�� Eddie stepped in closer. “But I think you might just be lonely.”

It stung. It wasn’t inaccurate, but it still hurt to think Eddie thought so little of him.

“I think I know how I feel.”

Eddie’s hand dropped from his neck and he took a step back. “I don’t wanna argue, Stevie. I just think you might need to separate yourself from the situation. I’m just always around, ya know?”

“You’re always around because I want you around!” Steve was just a bit too loud, but he knew Mackenzie was a heavy sleeper. “When you aren’t here, I check the clock to know when you will be. I get excited to leave work now because I’m not coming home to do the same thing I always did before. I get to see you and hear about your day and talk to you about mine and see you with my daughter, who probably loves you as much as I do.”

“You…love me?”

“Yes. I do. And I promise it’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I still want you here, reading to Kenzie. But I know how I feel. I know why I feel the way I do. You can’t tell me how to feel.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to.” Eddie sighed. “I’m just kinda surprised. Didn’t expect you to be into guys, let alone me. I’m not exactly good boyfriend material. Or stepparent material, either.”

“Oh, fuck that. You’re more her other parent than her mom ever was. She gave her to me the moment she had her and wished me luck before her entire family moved across the country.” Steve felt tears in his eyes. “I trust you. I want you around. I love you.”

Eddie swallowed, eyes pointed towards the carpet.

A minute passed, two. It was rapidly approaching awkward when finally Eddie spoke.

“But I’m so bad at wrapping presents.”

Steve snorted, but felt relief wash over him. “I can do the wrapping. This Christmas, next Christmas, as many Christmases as you’ll stay.”

“All of them?”

“Sounds good to me.” Steve leaned in slowly, let his hands grasp at the front of Eddie’s shirt to pull him closer. “How many Christmases do kids usually believe in Santa?”

“I dunno. I stopped believing when I caught my dad stealing the two presents under our tree when I was four.” Eddie let his hands fall to Steve’s hips. “But something tells me the little princess will be a believer for a while. Better get used to me ripping holes in the paper and using too much tape.”

“Think I can handle it.”

Every time Steve had pictured kissing Eddie before this, he’d thought it would be like any other first kiss, maybe a little awkward since it was his first with a guy.

Instead, it was soft, sweet, slow, perfect. He’d kissed a lot of girls in high school, had kissed them well. Not all of them were great, but even a less than good kiss was still decent.

This was more than any other kiss he’d ever had.

Eddie held him like he would never let go, like this kiss would last forever.

It couldn’t, but that’s how it felt.

When they finally pulled apart, Steve rested his head on Eddie’s shoulder.

“You wanna stay tonight? We can both do the Santa gifts with Kenzie before all the kids bother us,” Steve asked.

“I should call Wayne. I told him I’d be home by midnight.”

“He can come over in the morning, too,” Steve said. “If you want.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for Wayne? He can be a little…gruff.”

“I’m not worried,” Steve kissed Eddie’s cheek. “Hopper’s basically my dad. Plus, Mac’s got a way of breaking the tough old men down.”

“Bets?”

Steve pulled away and started wrapping another present before he got too distracted. “I give it ten minutes.”

“Oh, how generous. I’m giving it five.”

They both laughed as Eddie decided he’d be more help putting already wrapped presents in her stocking and under the tree and making sure everything was put away when Steve was done.

And for the first time, Eddie stayed the night, holding Steve against his chest while they slept.

They both cried when Mackenzie opened her presents excitedly. She was too little to do it herself last year, so seeing her tear through the paper and find joy in throwing it around the room was like a dream come true for Steve.

Eddie admitted he felt like he was intruding for some of it, but Steve quickly reminded him that he was the first person she toddled over to with her new set of princess books and said “Ed, read.”

She sat in his lap right then, even though she still had quite a few presents to open, and he read every single book to her, making her giggle with his high-pitched voices for the princesses and silly accent for the prince.

By the time the kids were coming through the front door, Steve was rushing to shush them, pointing at the couch where Eddie was passed out with Mackenzie curled up against his side.

Steve was never happier than in this moment.

Until the next one, and the one after that.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #anon request #fluff #domestic fluff #single parent steve harrington #getting together #love confessions

238 notes · View notes

jesswritesthat · 14 days ago

Text

Kirishima Eijirō: Oblivious

Fandom: BNHA // MHA — [Masterlist]

Summary: ~1k, fluff

• Kirishima is certain you’re just friends, but those closest to him have noticed something he may not have.

Warnings: None

>>>>——————————>

Kirishima was a friendly guy, he seemed to endear people with his presence and his personality caused them to gravitate toward him. This was the person who’d lured Bakugō Katsuki into a true friendship after all, he wasn’t to be underestimated.

It appeared he’d unexpectedly won you over too, not that you minded considering he treated you like royalty as he did nearly everyone he deemed close companions.

Though everyone else could tell you were different to him. That you meant more. Except the only one who didn’t notice this phenomenon was Kirishima himself.

Yet it was etched into the way he’d seek you out, how he’d naturally migrate closer to you, and how he’d hope for your laugh first when he’d heard a joke.

Then there were the regularities where you’d expect his timely companionship at points during your friendship and this was one of them.

“Hey (Y/n), you got a minute?” He’d knocked on your door, but had obtained the habit of walking in anyway like he belonged there.

“What’s up Eijirō?”

“Can I borrow you to dye my hair again please? Roots are coming through.” A shark tooth grin was flashed your way, one hand running through his near crimson strands for added emphasis.

This had become a common ritual, you’d be so gentle with washing and dyeing his hair that he couldn’t help but melt into your delicate touch with the softest compliments spilling from his lips. Afterward, you’d eat dinner together (usually he would make it as a thank you) and watch a film in one of your respective dorm rooms. It was a friendly tradition that you’d started to look forward to.

Of course you hadn’t realised until it was disclosed to you but, he never did ask any of the others to assist with this. Sero and Mina had even made a point to personally offer only to be politely rejected - the pair of them sharing a knowing smirk when he’d slung an arm around your shoulders immediately after, asking if you’d do it.

Like the good friends they were, this obvious behaviour left them no choice but to outrightly question Kirishima about it. Except, they didn’t receive the answers they’d thought so clear before their planned ambush.

“Nah we’re just friends, you’re messing with me right?”

Kirishimas’ carefree laughter stumped them into silence, surely the guy had taken notice of his own feelings at the very least. He must’ve realised that how he acted around you was different to anyone else - y’know, since he’s blatantly attracted to you. At least that’s what they collectively thought.

“Friends? Kirishima, do you want us to repeat the question man?” Denki leaned forward incredulously from his place on the sofa, beside him, Sero and Mina also grew bewildered.

“I heard you fine, but I don’t see what you mean. I treat (Y/n) the same way I treat everyone else.”

"So you'd hug Bakugō too?" The pinkette proposed pointedly, hands outstretched like she’d caught him out.

"Sure, and I've tried but he has a habit of rejecting them."

Mina huffed, he'd got her there, no matter how close they were none could deny Bakugōs’ evident repulsion to physical contact, meaning Kirishima unfortunately won that dispute.

"Okay then, why don’t you let us dye your hair?” Denki chimed in this time, watching as Eijirō nonchalantly replied to yet another question whilst organising the dorm fridge like this meant nothing.

“(Y/n) knows what they’re doing since I’ve asked so many times before, I mean I have no issue if you wanna learn…”

“Lucky having someone comb their hands through your hair, ugh but fair point.” The electric user whined hopelessly, Kirishima offering an awkward smile in response.

“You’d do anything for (L/n) wouldn’t you?” Sero suspiciously posed this time wearing a scheming expression, now his turn in trying to seek their desired outcome.

“Yeah, within reason.”

“Heheh, gotcha!” Sero smugly claimed, proud grin upon his features that soon came tumbling down when his friend elaborated thoughtfully.

“I’d do the same for you guys, you’re my friends. Why do you think I hold Minas’ bags during her shopping sprees?”

Now the trio were forced into a heavy, depressing withdrawal, their armoury of justifiable evidence now painfully refuted with little debate - Denki deciding to openly voice their surrender.

“Alright you win dude, either you’re totally oblivious or we’re overthinking everyday.”

They simultaneously slumped in total defeat, the redhead giving them a curious look prior to heading back to his dorm room.

“Okay… well I’ll be in my room. If you need anything else let me know.”

A cluster of exasperated groans haunted his exit.

Only it wasn’t over yet, before he could even reach his destination, he was interrupted again by a source you wouldn’t expect to get involved in such ‘trivial crap’.

"Oi shitty hair."

"Huh? Hey Bakugō." It was incredibly unexpected, an arm slung around his neck with a forcible clap to his back that left even Kirishima uneasy.

"How'd that feel?" It was abruptly blunt, Katsuki usually is but it held a hint of knowing within his tone like he was trying to tell him something in his own disgruntled way.

"You just hugged— what's up with you?"

"Answer the damn question moron!" Katsuki shot back, Kirishima barely managing a flustered and awkward reply.

"Uh... weird. But I feel fine."

"Exactly." It was curt and aggressive, the blonde shoving his hands in his pockets and stalking off toward his dorm leaving Eijirō in utter confusion. Just enough to spark a particular thought process.

He'd hug his friends. But it didn't feel as comforting. He'd laugh with them too. But he always wanted to see your smile. He’d gladly help others. But he always felt like a hero when he got to help you.

“Oh crap.”

“Hey Eijirō, you okay?” Your warm voice instantly had an effect, one he was now acutely aware of, that left him fumbling for words.

“(Y— I uh— no! See ya!”

It seemed Bakugō had enlightened Kirishima like he’d originally intended after overhearing his friends’ stupid conversation (where they’d all failed by the way) but it left you with a whole new dilemma to deal with.

Why was Eijirou avoiding you all of a sudden?

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

118 notes · View notes

nomie-11 · 1 month ago

Text

Epilogue - Unsent Correspondence from the Desk of Late Rider Cadet Liam Mairi

<- previous chapter | masterlist | series masterlist | next book! ->

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Before the death of Liam Mairi was reported, and his items were burned, a stack of unsent letters from under his bed were taken by one graduated rider cadet and two second years. Among those letters, three letters in envelopes were addressed to The Wounded Healer, The Drowned, and The Guilty. These three people were later discovered to be Genevieve Hale, Violet Sorrengail, and Xaden Riorson, and were properly distributed.

These three letters, for preservation purposes, are listed and titled below.

Transcribed into a modern language by Jesinia Neilwart, Curator of the Scribe Quadrant of Basgiath War College.

Unsent Correspondence from the desk of late Rider Cadet Liam Mairi

To my dear Violet,

As I write this, Genevieve is passed out on my bedroom floor, and you’re softly asleep on my bed, in my sheets. I’ve never been good with words, especially ones I can’t bring myself to say out loud. But I need to try, at least this once. Because if I don’t, I think it’ll haunt me worse than the battle scars ever could.

There’s something about the way you sleep, Vi. So peaceful, like the weight of the world hasn’t touched you. But I know it has. You carry so much on you, more than most people ever should or ever will. And yet, here you are, still fighting, still breathing, still… you. I don’t know how you do it, but I’m grateful every damn day that you do.

Being around you, fighting alongside you, it gave me something I never thought I’d have in this bloody war—hope. Hope that there’s something worth protecting, something good that survives even in the darkest places. You’re that light, Vi. You’ve always been. And I know I shouldn’t say that because it sounds like something out of one of those stupid romance books we’d steal from Xaden and laugh at, but it’s true. You make me believe in things I should have long stopped believing in.

I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you the way I promised I would. I know you don’t need anyone to keep you safe—you’re fierce, stronger than most of us—but I wanted to, anyway. It was selfish, I suppose. I was supposed to protect Genevieve, but I wanted to be the one you turned to, the one you trusted with the things you don’t share with anyone else. And yet, here I am, with so much left unsaid.

There are days, Vi, where I wonder what would’ve happened if we’d had met before the rebellion. Before the fighting and the death, before all of this. Maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe we could’ve had a chance at something more, something normal, something not filled with blood and battles. I’ve never let myself think too long about it, though. Because that’s not the world we live in, is it? We don’t get to have that kind of peace.

But if I’m honest with you, and I have to be, you deserve that at least now, I wanted that. I wanted you. I wanted us. I wanted to wake up next to you, not just here, not just at the brink of dawn, but every damn day. I wanted to marry you. And gods, I hate myself for saying that because it feels too late, and maybe it is if you’re reading this, but it’s the truth. I’ve wanted that since the first time you smiled at me like I was something more than just another rebellion kid.

I know this letter won’t reach you while I’m alive. And maybe it’s better that way. But I need you to know, Vi, that if I could go back, if I could change just one thing, it wouldn’t be how we fought or the decisions we made. No, it would be this; I’d ask you to marry me, right then and there. I wouldn’t wait for the perfect moment or a perfect day, because there’s no such thing in a world like ours.

I’m going to die soon, I can feel it, but I’ll die without regrets. At least, that’s what I’d like to say. The truth is, I do have one.

It’s that I never got to marry you.

Yours eternally, Liam.

—-------------------------------------------

To Xaden,

I’m sorry.

I’ve thought of a thousand ways to say it, but none of them feel like enough. I failed you. Worse than that, I put us all in danger because I couldn’t look at Violet and lie to her about everything. I thought if she knew the truth about Athebyne, it would protect her. But I recognize now that it’s probably going to be my downfall. It’s just… everytime I look at her it’s like the truth spills out. And now there’s no turning back.

I’ve always known you carry a weight that no one else can understand, not even me. You were forced to lead before you were ready, forced to make decisions that no one should ever have to make. And I made it worse. I wanted to believe that if I could just tell Violet everything, tell her why I had to disappear at night, that maybe this wouldn’t be so hard. But I misjudged everything. Aetos probably read her memories, and by the time you’ve read this, I’ve probably destroyed everything.

You’re right to be furious with me. I betrayed the only real family I’ve had since my parents died. And even though I did it because I thought it would help, it’s no excuse. I should have trusted you—trusted your wish to remain a secret, trusted that you’d find a way to protect us all, without dragging Violet into it. But I didn’t. And I’m sorry, Xaden. More than you know.

But now it’s too late for apologies. By the time you read this, I’ll be gone.

I don’t know how it’s going to happen—whether it’s a battle, an ambush, or just the cruel hand of fate—but I know that my time is coming. And I want you to know that when it does, I’ll go down fighting. Not just for you, not just for Violet, but for all of us. For everything we’ve been through, for everything we’ve fought for, for the futures we all deserved but never got.

There’s one more thing, Xaden. Genevieve.

You’re not going to like this, or maybe you will, but I had to make a choice. She’s important—to all of us, yes—but especially to you. I saw the way you looked at her, the way that she was the whole world in your arms. You’re as good at hiding your feelings as ever, but I know you. And even though she’s been forced into this situation, forced to spy on us, I know she isn’t our enemy.

When it comes down to it, if it’s her or me, I’m choosing her. I’ve made peace with that. If it means you’ll survive and have someone by your side after I’m gone, someone who might understand what you’re going through, someone who’ll stand with you when the world turns to ash, then it’ll be worth it.

So, if the time comes, and I have to make that choice, know it’s not because I don’t care about you. It’s because I do. It’s because you’ve spent too long losing the people you care about, and I won’t let it happen again, not if I can help it.

The idea of dying doesn’t seem to scare me anymore, really, because I know when I die I won’t be alone. I’m excited to see my mother again, most of all. I love you more than words can convey, brother. You’ve always been the best part of me. And I’ll see you on the other side.

Your brother, Liam Mairi

—--------------------------------------------

To Genevieve,

I know you didn’t want it to go this way. Hell, you’re probably furious with me. And you should be. I never asked for your permission to make this decision, to sacrifice myself for you. But, Genevieve, I think we both knew from that night in February that it would end like this. We just didn’t say it out loud, did we? Some things don’t need to be said to be understood.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry because I know what this will do to you, how much you hate owing anyone anything. But this isn’t about debts or favors or even survival. This was my choice, and I made it because you deserve a shot at something beyond this. I’ve seen the fire in your eyes, even when you’re trapped in a cage that you didn’t build but can’t seem to escape. You deserve the chance to break free, to live beyond the strings people keep trying to tie you to.

I don’t want you to think for one second that this makes you weak, that my decision somehow implies that you couldn’t make it on your own. You could. You can. But I also know you’ve been fighting with every ounce of strength you’ve got for so damn long, and I just… I wanted to give you a moment. Just one. A moment to breathe, to take control of your fate without someone else calling the shots.

It’s not fair. None of this is fair. The fact that we’re even here, at Basgiath, trapped between wars we didn’t start and loyalties we didn’t choose—it’s all wrong. But we don’t get to change that. What we can change is what we do with what’s left. And what’s left for me, Geneiveve, is making sure you get out of this alive, no matter what.

I know you’ll never forgive me for this. I know you’ll curse my name every day from here on out. And maybe I deserve that. But I couldn’t just stand by and watch you burn yourself to ash trying to survive in this gods-forsaken world. You’ve got something inside you, something bigger than revenge, bigger than all this pain. You just don’t see it yet.

And you will. One day, when the smoke clears and the world isn’t quite as dark, you’ll understand why I did it. And maybe you’ll hate me a little less.

So live, Genevieve. Live on your terms, not anyone else’s. And when you do, don’t look back. Not for me. Not for anyone.

I’ll be with you, in whatever comes next. I just hope you’ll find a way to forgive yourself for not saving me, even if you can’t forgive me. You need to remember that you are nobody’s soldier, and know that I’m always beside you, for you are my greatest adversary and my best friend.

Your sword and shield, Liam

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

So, how are we feeling?

That's it for The Wounded Healer, The Drowned, and The Guilty! This will be a bit of a longer note because there's so much I want to say about this project and what it meant to me to write it.

This is my first writing project after what was a pretty hard breakup for me. I didn't write for the almost entire year I was talking with my ex, and then he cheated on me and I decided that I needed an escape. I read Fourth Wing to give me a quick break from reality, and between the breakup and reading Fourth Wing, Genevieve Hale was born.

I'm actually not a romantasy reader, nor am I a romantasy writer, I tend to sway towards classical literature and poetry, but I can appreciate a good book when there's a good book, even if I don't love the writing style or the main romance, so this was a huge step out of my comfort zone, but it was a lot of fun!

It's actually 3 months and 1 day that I'm completing this since starting it. I started writing it on August 15th, and then finished writing on October 27th, and finished publishing today, November 16th, which is pretty crazy. And I reached 100 followers literally yesterday on Tumblr, which is pretty crazy (at least to me--100 followers in three months???), so thank you all so much for being invested in my writing. I never imagined people would actually read this, and I'm so grateful for each and every one of you.

There's a lot of things in book 1 that I left unexplained that will be covered in book 2, we will go more into Genevieve's father, Genevieve's mother, Genevieve's signet, Genevieve's relationship with Xaden (and Violet post-Resson), and much more.

With that being said, now you understand the title of the book The Wounded Healer, The Drowned, and The Guilty. Genevieve is the wounded healer, a fitting title for someone who cannot physically heal someone without nearly killing herself, but it's also a title for her emotional state. Violet is the drowned, representative of the grief that will consume a lot of her actions in book 2, and a lot of the things that Liam hid from her, and Xaden is the guilty, a testament to the lies and deception he was taking part in when hiding details from Genevieve. I already released the title for book 2, so it should give you some insight into what will go down in the second book, but I'm excited to hear your theories (if you have any).

What do you think will happen between Xaden and Genevieve, Genevieve and Violet, Genevieve and (eventually) Catriona and the gryphon fliers? How will Genevieve cope with the loss of Liam? What developments will Genevieve's signet and her understanding of it go through? Let me know!

Anyways, that is it for now! I'll be back in a little bit (probably around 2-3 weeks) with chapter 1 of The Tragic Hero, The Betrayed, and The Haunted, but between now and then there will be some bonus content (incorrect quotes, one shots--x reader and x genevieve, etc) posted here and there. That will only be on Tumblr for my Ao3 readers, so find me at nomie-11 if you are interested!

As always, if you enjoyed, leave a like, comment, or kudo, and I'll see you all soon with book 2!

-------

Taglist: @awkardnerd , @hannraumari , @minjix , @glaciuswduo , @wolfbc97 , @heeseungthel0ml

#violet sorrengail #fourth wing #fourth wing imagine #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing xaden #liam mairi #xaden and sgaeyl #xaden riorson #xaden riorson x reader #garrick tavis x reader #liam mairi x reader #the empyrean #the wounded healer

51 notes · View notes

icomeandg0 · 3 months ago

Text

"More than one"

Part 4!

Linked Universe x Reader (s)

Warnings: Confusing, swearing

A/n: Slowly but surely getting there!

"Order up!"

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

Walking through the bustling city the other group wanders the streets. “Are you sure they are located here?” “No clue” LTTPY/n spoke as she continued to walk in front of them. “So do you know where we are going?” Legend asked with a hint of irritation in his voice, can’t blame him though, the poor guy has been on his feet for a while now. “Not exactly, but there could be a surprise around every corner” Legend rolls his eyes at the monotone voice LTTPY/n delivered, “A good or bad surprise?” “Eh, 50 50 I say” The boys all share a glance between them all before Warriors speak up.

“Maybe we should find clues on where they might be-” “A bar.” LTTPY/n says, Four tilts his head, “A bar? How do you know?” LTTPY/n shrugs and turns to meet them, “Just a hunch” The ring on her finger shone brighter than usual.

“So which bar should we start at? There's probably a lot in this city ""This one” She stands in front of the bar door. ‘Tipsy Teapot’ was the name of the bar. She didn’t hesitate to go inside, “Of course we got put with the loopy one” Legend grumbled earning a very small chuckle from Hyrule.

Inside was very noisy, gruff men were inside sharing life stories while drowning themselves in alcohol. “So what made you think they were here of all places? I can understand…Eh- Nevermind that but a bar?” Warrior raised one brow as LTTPY/n shrugs, “Like I said, a hunch, I can feel their presence” “Oh great, she’s loopy and delusional” Legend muttered as he groaned. “Look, we only agreed to help because the old man told us too, not because we wanted because if I had a choice I wouldn’t be here helping you find your little girl squad!” Legend points at LTTPY/n who only stared at him blankly.

“Hey, Don’t be like that. We’re heroes and it’s our job to help those in need” Warrior says, pushing Legend back a bit to give him space but someone had bumped into him…

“Ooops! Sorry sir! That was on me for not noticing– free drink on me!” She grins and she looked an awful lot like a–

“LOZY/n! I knew you were here!” All the tension left as LTTPY/n walked towards the other Y/n, “Oh HI! It’s been a bit since I’ve seen you, LTTPY/n! Hanging out with a new crowd hm?” LOZY/n asked in a cheery tone, “Haven’t you found the rest of us yet? Why are you with a bunch of boys? This is all so confusing!” LOZY/n non stop yapping about anything that came to mind but she was snapped out when LTTPY/n puts her hands on LOZY/n’s shoulders.

“I need you to listen for just a bit, I’ve come to get you back with the help of…” She glances back at the boys and then back at LOZY/n “Them. Now was there anyone else with you and if so, where is she now?” LOZY/n blinks before smiling, pointing over her shoulder to a curtain that says ‘Gambling addicts!’

“Just over that curtain you’ll find FSY/n! Oh–! I got to get back to the orders! I’ll see you around!” LOZY/n pushes past and accidentally bumped into ANOTHER person, Hyrule.

“Oh sorry about…That” LOZY/n eyes widened when she saw Hyrule, Hyrule had flushed cheeks and looked a bit flustered, “It’s fine, really” Hyrule says quietly. LOZY/n giggles and walks past, sparing one more glance over her shoulder and so does Hyrule. Making eye contact before she left to go to the bar.

Only one to witness that was Legend who was giving Hyrule a smug look, “Oh Stop that” Hyrule huffed, Legend was going to tease him a bit more but LTTPY/n spoke up, “You guys coming?” She was already by the curtain with Warriors and Four. Legend shook his head, deadpanning at her “No, we’ll stay here” LTTPY/n only shrugged and went inside, the other two boys following.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

“AURGH!” A big gruff man threw down his cards in frustration, “Hah! That's another win for me, I swear you’re doing this on purpose but since this is your 7th loss…I say you just suck in general” A familiar (H/C) was seen, her back facing them as the big man glared at her. “Awh, Don’t get all pissy over a shitty move you did~ NOW GIVE ME MY MONEY!” She cackled as one of the guys slid down 5 big bags of rupees. She checks every single one until the fifth where it contains rocks.

“HEY! WHAT’S THIS SHIT DOING IN HERE?!” Her mood changes instantly as she rises from her chair and points at the big man, “We had a deal, asshole.” This earned a smirk from the man, “You think I’ll follow your rules, little girl?” He taunts as he snaps his fingers, his guards standing up, they all tower over her.

She growls in frustration knowing that she couldn’t beat them, however her ear flicked when she heard footsteps, she looked back and saw LTTPY/n, Link and someone else equivalent to her Link.

“LTTPY/n? Link? How the hell did you find me?” FSY/n asked, ignoring the other men and focusing solely on the trio behind her.

“Eh, just a h—“

“Didn’t expect to see you in this department…imagine what your mami will say about this discovery~” Four grins, he couldn’t help but try to get a rise out of his childhood friend.

FSY/n scoffed.

“Of course, come to pester me, have you? Can’t you see I’m doing adult stuff? Something you aren’t quite experienced in…despite having 4 perspectives” she snapped back at him earning a startled expression and he immediately let out a small strained noise.

Warriors somewhat didn’t pay much attention to it and nor did LTTPY/n, Four gave her a look of ‘don’t say anything and I won’t tell your mother’ FSY/n looks at Warriors before looking back, ‘I want an explanation after, deal.’ She gave him a look and soon Warriors spoke.

“Reunions can come later, we need you to come back with us, we’ll regroup you back to your group and—“ “I don’t give two shits about regrouping, not until I get my money!” She points at the man while a scowl.

“Gosh, are all Y/n’s difficult?” Warriors muttered, “she’s just overly difficult” Four muttered back to him earning a slight noise that could be equivalent to a chuckle from LTTPY/n.

“I don’t have to owe you anything, you’re still a baby, how old are you? 14?” The man laughed gruffly, earning FSY/ns eye twitch in annoyance.

“14–14?! I look 14 to you?! I’ll show you!” FSY/n begins to climb onto the table but Four was quick to his feet and tried to gently pull her down.

“Let go of me, Link” she growled, “Is it really worth it? You already have…4 bags of rupees!” “I need the fifth!” FSY/n says, her hands stretching out and clenching as if she’s trying to choke the man from where she is.

“Lemme at him—Lemme at him!”

Four sighed as he settled her back down and she frowned at Four, “I had it under control, idiot.” She grumbled as Four stood behind her so she wouldn’t do anything rational.

“Link do your job and fight for me” FSY/n demands and Four scoffed.

“Are you done your little squabble? I have real work to attend to” The man says, he claps his hands and his guards collect the bags of rupees, “Whoa—Hey! Those are mine!” FSY/n reaches over and grabs one of the bags.

“Oh let the rupees go, Y/n!” Four says, “over my dead body!”

The guard however didn’t let his guard down and managed to shove her off, she stumbled back and grumbled, “you selfish bastard!”

“Once you’re old enough, maybe you’ll understand what real adult stuff is” the man grins, his guards put the bags of rupees in front of him, he nods in approval before looking back up at FSY/n.

FSY/n has a crazed smirk of her own, a vein popping on her forehead, she soon whistled and ducked…a flying tray hits the man square in the face

The curtain flew open for a split second to reveal LOZY/n who grinned and was it the stance of throwing, once the curtain fell down, FSY/n rushed to grab the 4 bags and they all ran off.

“GET THEM!”

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

The small group of 6 were hiding in the alleyway, FSY/n was sitting on the dumpster counting her rupees “6000 rupees? It’ll do” she grumbled, “I’ll take em if you don’t want them” Legend speaks up, FSY/n snarls “Go make your own money, broke ass!” She snaps.

Between the two they banter more, Four watches over them because Fire and Fire don’t mix well—LTTPY/n and Warriors don’t wanna be here…

LOZY/n hummed a tune as she put her hair up in a tidy ponytail, making sure her bangs cover up her eye…

“Ahem” she turns to meet Hyrule again.

“Oh! It’s you!” She smiles, “Yeah, it’s me…” he says sheepishly,

“Sorry for bumping into you earlier—“

“I didn’t mean to get in your way before—“

The two pause and soon burst into a little giggle fit, “Hehe, I’m Y/n…Like the rest of the other Y/n’s…Just call me LOZY/n” she says softly, “My real name is Link…like the others but just call me Hyrule..” he says, glancing away a bit before looking back at her…

“Augh, love makes me sick.” FSY/n grimaced at the sight of them, “Yeah, I bet you haven’t experienced love before because ain’t no way anyone is loving that attitude” Legend retorts.

“Shut it, asshole.”

“I mean…there’s nothing wrong with changing up the attitude—“

“You shut up as well.”

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

A/N: Oh gosh I finally finished this chapter in one day, I'm slowly coming back, I just came back from my trip and I still feel as if I'm on a holiday. I had the urge to write this whole time, Honestly I'm thinking about re-write the last one because it was rushed but It will stay similar just hopefully better lol.

Series are nearly done, 2-3 more then we can finally put up a damn ask box!

#linked universe x reader #lu x reader #link x reader #x reader #lu four #lu hyrule #lu chain #lu warriors #lu legend #MOREY/Ns #girlsquad #gamblingaddiction?!#Been a while #haven't posted in a while #Mic's writing

56 notes · View notes

kingofpopmj · 4 months ago

Text

Then, There Was You

Prelude

July 13th, 1988

Diana, Princess of Wales, walked down the main hallway of Buckingham Palace. The click of her heels muffled by the velvet rug covering the tiled floor.

Tonight was Queen Elizabeth’s Sixtieth Birthday Celebration, so it was a very important event to say the least. The Royal Families’ extended list of acquaintances had travelled from all over to be here. As much as she loves the Queen, there was always a sense of unease that followed her throughout these events. It had nothing to do with her mother-in-law or the rest of the family at all. It was her. She struggled to feel as though she belonged, yet somehow she was constantly reminded of the void she filled. The people of England had grown quite fond of her and even though she didn’t understand it, she vowed to herself to never take it for granted. Most of all, to never let them down.

When she rounded the corner she was met with her husband, who looked very frustrated. He grumbled lowly, not having noticed her presence yet.

*Diana’s POV*

“Dear, it’s really no use. She’s hiding.” I chuckled softly, crossing my arms. “You know how much she loathes these types of events. All the people. All the pressure.”

“I know, but she has to make an appearance. I don’t enjoy it anymore than she does.” Charles responded, opening and shutting doors as he searched for his sister. “Where on earth could she be? How does she do this? Just vanish into thin air.”

“She doesn’t want to see Benjamin. Your mother practically names their nonexistent children when they’re in the same room. Y/N doesn’t like it, it makes her uncomfortable. She doesn’t care for him, not in that way.”

“That’s neither here nor there. She needs grow up at some point. If our parents want her to marry him, then that’s what she must do. It’s how this works. I’ve done it. Now, it’s her turn.”

“You’re so romantic.” I swallowed the lump in my throat as I directed the light hearted joke towards him. I knew our marriage wasn’t a fairytale, but I still didn’t appreciate having it thrown in my face.

If it wasn’t for Y/N, I would’ve fought against the marriage much harder, but I love my sister-in-law to pieces. She was one of, if not the best part of my new life in the Royal Family. We connected early on and we had naturally found comfort in one another. We were close, which meant I knew all of her hiding spots, but I’d never tell Charles or anyone else for that matter. I understood her, more than they cared to. I was determined to protect Y/N, the way I wished someone had done for me.

“I don’t have time for this. She’s ridiculous. I have to get back out there. At least one of us has to be an adult today, so it looks like it’s up to me. Do you mind searching on your own?”

“Sure. I’ll take care of it.” I smiled and Charles nodded, giving me a quick peck on the forehead.

I watched as he made his way back to the party, once he was out of sight I stealthily made my way into the room at the end of the hall. It had a balcony that Y/N tended to gravitate to when she needed an escape. Once I’d entered I quickly closed the door behind me, moving towards the door leading outside. I slowly twisted the knob and pushed the door open.

“Oh! Spence, you scared me.” Y/N breathed out, stepping out from the table she had crawled under.

“Great spot. I barely saw you there.”

“I panicked.”

“You need practice.” I fake scolded her, collapsing into a chair.

“Yeah, yeah. Who sent you?”

“The worst of them all.” My eyes widened as if I was telling a horror story.

“My dad?” She gasped dramatically.

“Your brother.”

“Boo!”

“You’ve got that right. So, how much longer are we hiding out for?”

“I need a few more minutes.”

“I’ll give you two, then I’m dragging you out of here.”

“Trader.” Y/N huffed, hopping up to sit on the stone column of the railing.

“What? You want to leave me out there all alone?”

“Of course not.”

“Benjamin has been talking up your parents since he arrived.”

“I’m going to become physically ill if I have to be anywhere near him tonight.”

“I’ll do my best to run interference.”

“Bless your heart!” Y/N announced, throwing her hands in the air. “Have I ever told you how breathtaking you look under the moonlight?”

“No need to soften me up. You know I’ll do anything for you.”

“I know. Thank you, my favorite sister.” She skipped over and hugged me. I loved hearing her say that. I knew she meant it and even though I was technically her only sister, it still meant the world to me.

“You’re mine too. Ready to conquer all?”

“I suppose.”

“We’ll walk extra slow.”

“You’re my favorite person ever.”

“I better be.” I laughed, leading the way out.

“Okay, you ready?” I questioned nervously as we stood in front of the large doors leading up to the ballroom. “The night will fly by I promise. Plus, we get cake for our struggles.”

“Thanks Spence. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Y/N squeezed my hand with a smile.

The gentlemen greeting guests moved to open the doors for us. A deep bow to show their respect as we moved to enter the room. It was something I had yet to become accustomed to although I always acknowledge kindness and offered it in return. It was natural to me, so I was told.

Y/N was oddly quiet as we moved towards the head table. I wrote it off as nervousness or just plain annoyance at having to be apart of this whole extravaganza. That’s when it happened. Y/N’s feet ceased movement and she took a deep breath. Her hand gripped my arm tightly as she pushed her shoulders back and held her chin higher.

“Wow.” The word fell out of Y/N’s mouth as she stood as still as a statue.

“What was that?” I asked, unsure I’d heard her correctly. “Are you alright?”

Y/N was in a daze. She was staring off into the distance, completely unaware that I had asked her a question and that her grip was cutting off the circulation to my fingers.

“Princess Royal.” I tried, hoping her official title would break the trance or me nudging her arm, but to no avail. Y/N was unreachable.

I followed her gaze, seeing what had brought on the distraction, or should she say whom. I was stunned, so discreetly I looked back and forth between them and found that they had each other’s attention. Well, well, well, they were so lost in their own world that they’ve forgotten about the madness surrounding them. I couldn’t believe my eyes. A bashful smile spread upon his face, leading to a pink blush to appear on her cheeks.

“This is going to be fun.” Thankfully, for everyone involved, I was more of a direct person. There was no way I was going to watch them gawk at each other all night. I’m all about a love story, especially when I get to play match maker. I hooked my arm around Y/N’s waist, pulling her over to the man in the black fedora.

“Hello.” I smiled. “I’m Diana, this is Y/N. It’s so kind of you to be here for tonight’s festivities. We do hope you’re enjoying yourself.”

“H— Hi, hello.” He listened to her, but his eyes never left Y/N’s. “It’s an honor to meet you— both of you. Thank you for having me.” He looked nervous, but he persevered, removing his hat and bowing his head. “Princess—”

“Please, call me Y/N.” I watched on, smirking as I witnessed my sister-in-law remember how to speak. I felt so proud.

“Y/N.” He smiled, this time his bright teeth becoming visible. The way he said her name was unlike anything I’d heard before. He said it with such tenderness.

“And, I shall call you?” Y/N was visibly becoming more confident under his gaze.

“Michael, you can call me Michael.”

“Michael.” She held her hand out to shake his, their grasp on each other’s hand lingered. I felt as though I was imposing on an intimate moment, but I didn’t move a muscle, too interested to see where this would lead— with giving them a strong nudge in the right direction of course.

“Y/N and I were just discussing how excited we are for your upcoming shows.” I spoke, earning a confused look from Y/N. “We will be attending the opening night at Wembley.”

“I’ve heard. I’m flattered that you’d want to watch me perform. I’ll have to do my best to impress tomorrow night.” He laughed softly. “Do you have a favorite song?” He asked, looking at both of us.

“I like I Just Can’t Stop Loving You, it’s really an amazing song. Your voice, it’s beautiful.” Y/N said just above a murmur.

“Thank you. That’s actually one of my favorites too. It holds a lot of meaning and passion behind it. I look forward to singing it for you. I’ll be sure to make it extra special.”

“I can’t wait.”

Y/N and Michael were looking at each other with a fire in their eyes that made even my heart skip a beat. I loved seeing this side of my sister-in-law, she was all giggly and flustered. It was too adorable.

“I like Dirty Diana.” I interrupted them, staring at each other as if they were communicating much more through their silence. Their heads both snapped in my direction. Michael had a shocked expression on his face.

“Dirty Diana?” He questioned below a whisper, leaning towards me to ensure no one else would hear his question.

“Yes. I love it.”

“I actually took that one off the setlist.”

“Why?”

“Well, out of respect for you of course. I didn’t think it’d be appropriate to perform that song since it had your name. Obviously, it’s not about you, but I just— I wanted to be respectful.”

“Oh no, it’s my absolute favorite.”

“Okay, I’ll— I can add it back. If you’re okay with it.”

“Of course.”

“That’s—” Michael started, but he was rudely interrupted.

“Ah, I see you found my lovely sister. What’s going on here?” Charles questioned, looking at each of us, completely unaware of the moment he’d just cut in on.

“Oh, nothing.” I smiled, reaching out for his hand. “Charles, this is Michael. Michael, this my husband, Y/N’s brother, Charles.”

“It’s very nice to meet you.” Michael says, shaking his hand firmly.

“The pleasure is all mine. Thank you for fitting us in to your very busy schedule. I know you have upcoming shows and other obligations. Diana insisted I accompany her—”

“Oh, dear, I just invited Y/N to come with me. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner. I do hope you won’t mind.”

“That’s a fantastic idea. My two favorite ladies’ deserve a night out. I know you’ll take great care of them.” Charles nodded towards Michael with a laugh, no doubt relieved he had been free of the commitment. He wasn’t necessarily a fan, but he had grown to enjoy the music, for me of course.

“I’ll keep a close eye on them.” Michael replied, stealing a glance at Y/N who was standing beside him. She smiled at him and when he sent a flirty wink in her direction, she all but crumbled right before our eyes. She looked so happy in his company.

Oh, I love him already.

“Charles, I was just about to come find you. Your father needed us for a toast I believe. Michael, Princess Royal, please excuse us. Oh, and I hope to see you two join us on the dance floor later.” I pulled my husband away, leaving them alone to get to know each other better.

The smile on my face growing wider by the second as we went on our way because I could feel something coming.

And, I couldn’t wait.

*Benjamin’s POV*

“Lady Diana, Sir Charles, it’s great to see you.”

“Hello, how are you Benji?” Charles smiled.

“Hi, Benjamin.” Diana spared me a tight lipped grin, further confirming my suspicions that she wasn’t very fond of me.

“Good, how are you?”

“Fine. It’s quite the turn out. Beautiful, don’t you think? It looks like my mum is enjoying herself.”

“Yes, everything looks great. Charles, have you seen—”

“She’s around here somewhere.” He chuckled, taking a sip of his drink.

“Ah, thank you.”

“Last I saw her, she was over there with Michael.” He replied, pointing over to the grand entrance. “Charming guy, right honey?”

“Michael?” Who the hell is that?

“Yes.” They answered at the same time.

“Who’s that?” I questioned.

“Michael Jackson.” Diana smiled, nodding her head excitedly. “He’s so sweet. I can’t believe he actually came. Your mother was thrilled.” She added, looking at Charles for approval.

“That, she was.” He confirmed. “She’s going hang that picture up above the mantle.”

“Right.”

“Oh, relax. Benji, no competition. He’s a friend of the family. Diana here is simply star struck.”

“He’s incredibly talented.” She gushed. “I don’t understand how he does it all. I can’t wait for tomorrow—”

“I suppose.”

“Jealousy is a lovely color on you.” Diana joked.

“I’m not jealous. He’s a musician.” I spat.

“He’s more than—” Diana started until she was cut off by Charles’ glare. “He’s very kind.” She spoke, looking away from us.

“Well, I’ll go find her. I’m sure she’s itching to be rid of him.”

“She seemed to be enjoying herself very much. Leave her be.” Diana spoke, but I went off to interrupt them anyway.

I knew better.

I knew her.

*Michael’s POV*

“Would you like to come sit with me?” I asked, burying my hands deep in my pockets so she wouldn’t see me crossing my fingers for luck.

“I’d love to.” I gestured over to my table, unsure if it be inappropriate to guide her by pressing my hand against the curve of her back, so I fought the urge. Yeah, that definitely wouldn’t have been appropriate. Stop looking too. She has a face Michael.

“So—” I began as I pulled out the chair for her.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” I sat down, frantically trying to find what to say next. “Do you go out? I mean— well of course you go out— you don’t stay here all the time— probably go on dates too— look at you— I’m sure that happens a lot— dates— which is cool.” I ran my hands up and down my thighs, what the hell is the matter with me? “Do you have a favorite place in England? That’s what I meant to ask.” Better, now don’t go back to sounding like an idiot.

“Well, I quite enjoy Dreamland. It’s an amusement park we have here. It’s incredible. We don’t get around to it much anymore with all the adult responsibilities getting in the way. Last time, we ended up spending the entire day meeting the people, but it was nice.” She laughed, shrugging in the most lovely manner I’ve ever witnessed. “What about you? What’s your favorite place back in the states?”

“I’d have to say home. I’m the most comfortable there. If I go out it can become quite difficult.”

“Ah, to be loved by the masses. It must be tough to navigate a private life.”

“Yes. I make it work the best I can though. I was lucky enough to find a beautiful piece of land to build on. Everything I need is right there, only a few steps away.”

“That sounds incredible. A lot like this place.”

“I’d assume. Well, other than the tall stone walls, I’m not sure what else there would be that our fortresses have in common.”

“Do you have a library?” She asked quickly.

“Yes.” I nodded, holding up two fingers. “Do you have a pool?”

“Yes.” She smirked, holding up one finger which caused us both to laugh. “Do you have a garden?”

“Yes.” I thought for a moment before continuing. “Do you have a go kart track?”

“What? No. I wish! Wait, do you?”

“Mhm.”

“You’re lying.”

“I wouldn’t dare lie to a princess. I also have a few other attractions.” I said in a teasing tone.

“Attractions? I’m going to need the details. If you don’t mind, of course.”

“Hm.. a Ferris Wheel, a Merry Go Round, some carnival games. Nothing too fancy.”

“Nothing too fancy? It sounds like you live at the home of the mouse!”

“Home of the mouse?” I chuckled although I was very confused.

“Yes! The mouse. You know? All the rides and the big castle—”

“Mickey Mouse? Do you mean Disneyland?” I smiled at her description, it was cute.

“Yes! You’re like Mickey Mouse.”

“I love that comparison, but my home is called Neverland.”

“Neverland. That’s a beautiful name! I think I like it better than Disneyland.”

“You’re more than welcome to visit. I’d love to have you— have you over to visit.” It was bold to say the least, but I couldn’t resist.

“Oh, I’d be careful if I were you. If it’s as magical of a place as you describe, I may never leave.”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“Well, in that case, I’ll have my belongings sent over right away.” She giggled as I fought the need to reach out and caress her cheek.

“I wouldn’t mind.” I repeated, her face softening as she reached over to place her hand on top of mine.

“Did you attend with a plus one or—” She asked, gosh her voice was so beautiful.

“I’m alone— not alone I mean you’re here— I— I don’t have a plus one. Today or ever. Just me.” I rambled.

“That’s perfect. Thank you for sharing. I’m alone too. Not alone, alone. I mean you’re here.” She giggled as she threw my words back at me. Oh, she’s teasing me. I could get use to this.

“So..” Shit. Her hand hasn’t moved, her skin is so smooth. Shit. Don’t freeze up now. Keep the conversation going or she’ll leave. “That’s a really pretty tiara.” I pointed to the top of her head. Wow. Great ice breaker Michael. “You’re pretty— breathtaking really.” Eh, not great but a step in the right direction.

“Thank you. You’re as kind as you are handsome.” She smiled, looking at me as she gave my hand a tender squeeze. I took this moment to allow my gaze to linger. Her dress was a light pink color. She had loose sleeves that reached her elbows. The skirt flowed off her body, falling just short of dragging on the floor. I was admiring her so intently that I didn’t realize her staring at me.

“I’m sorry.” I quickly fixed my gaze at the ground. “You— I’ve never seen anyone— I just needed a proper moment to truly appreciate what’s in front of me.”

“You really have a way with words.” She smiled, leaning towards me to place a gentle kiss on my cheek. “You’re quite the gentleman.”

“What can I say? You’ve got an effect on me.” I laughed off how my cheek was still tingling from her touch.

“When did you arrive in England?” She clasped her hands around mine, waiting for my answer and looking at me like I was the only person in the room.

“My flight got in last night.”

“Oh, you haven’t even been able to explore. You have to see the—”

“Princess Royal, I’ve been looking for you.” A man approached us, interrupting our conversation.

“Benjamin. Hello, this is Michael. He’s been keeping me company.” She smiled at me kindly.

“Well, I can take over from here.” He said sternly, his gaze landing on our entangled hands.

“No need, Michael is great company.” She said, her hands still in mine. She wasn’t letting go. And, I definitely wasn’t letting go.

“Thank you. As are you.” As are you? Why the fuck did I just say that? Thankfully, she seemed to like it. She started laughing, leaning against my arm to keep from falling out of her chair. Shit. Am I irresistible in England?

“Okay, well I’ll go get us some drinks and join you. The both of you, I guess.” He sent a disapproving look my way before walking off. I didn’t think about it much, how could I? I could barely think straight with her sat beside me. As long as she enjoyed my company, I wasn’t going anywhere.

“Are you up for some impromptu sightseeing?” She turned to me with a hopeful smile on her face. “I think we’ve spent enough time amongst the masses.” She joked.

“I’m assuming you’ll be my private tour guide?” I asked, smiling back at her. “If so, then absolutely, yes.” Nice, that was smooth.

“You’re in for a treat! I’m the best tour guide.”

“Lead the way your highness.” She giggled as she gripped my arm, jumping up from our seats at the same time and fast walking towards the nearest exit.

“This way!” She pointed to the left, holding my hand from only a few steps in front of me. I’d give anything for this moment to never end.

Her dress swayed side to side as we made our exit, I held onto my hat, ensuring it wouldn’t leave my head. My shoulders shook as I chuckled at my predicament. Y/N looked over her shoulder at me with a grin on her face that reached all the way up to her eyes.

She’s stunning.

“Scared of heights?” She asked. “It’s only four stories up.” She added, a little more nonchalant than I cared for.

“Not particularly.” Kind of, well yes, very, but I’m not going to tell her that, especially when she’s already crawling out the window onto the roof. Great.

“Come on.”

“Is this safe?” I inquired, curiously inspecting the window sill. “I mean, is this okay?”

“Uh yeah, I believe so. I come up here all the time.” She was out of sight, but I could still hear her clearly. Here goes nothing. “Well, are you coming?” She laughed.

“Yes.” Oh, beautiful woman, I hope you’re worth me scaling a building.

As I crawled onto the roof I spotted her sitting at the edge of the building. Perfect. Just where I was hoping she’d be. I dusted off my knees before making my way over to her. It wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be. A nice, well-built, flat surface to walk on. Carefully, I took a seat next to her, dangling my legs over the edge, away from safety just like her. Respectfully, this woman might be a little crazy.

“Finally, I’m glad you decided to join me.” She teased me.

“Excuse my tardiness, I made a few wrong turns.”

“You were worth the wait.” She said between fits of laughter.

“It’s not everyday a beautiful princess invites me to throw caution to the wind and climb a very tall building. I needed to make some calls and get my affairs in order.”

“Oh, stop.” She laughed harder, her hand resting on my shoulder. “You could’ve said no.”

“Say no? To you? Never.”

“Never?”

“Never. I think I’d do anything to spend more time with you.” I muttered honestly, she heard me, her lips parted slightly as her expression turned to worry.

“You’re scared of heights aren’t you?”

“What gave me away?” I gasped, avoiding looking down at all costs.

“Michael, you’re gripping the roof for dear life.”

“It’s okay, you’re helping me face my fears.”

“Oh, here let me help you. We can sit somewhere else. Away from the edge.” She helped me scoot backwards, making sure I was okay. “I can’t believe you lied! You just told me you wouldn’t dare lie to me when we were inside. I feel awful, are you alright?” She bursted out laughing, slapping my shoulder softly once we were far enough away from the edge.

“I didn’t want the night to end and I didn’t want you to think I was a coward.”

“Our night together would’ve continued, but I would’ve taken you to the balcony instead. And, I don’t think that one bit. It was really sweet— and extremely brave.”

“Brave huh?”

“Very.”

“I’m afraid to find out what else you could get me to do.”

“Hmm.. maybe we’ll try skydiving next?”

“If you really want to— I think I could muster up enough courage to do so. You’ll probably have to hold my hand the entire time though.”

“I wouldn’t mind.” She said shyly, fiddling with the bracelet hanging from her wrist.

“I was told I was in store for a bit of sightseeing, tourist like adventures, yet I don’t see a souvenir cart. Your highness, Miss most gorgeous tour guide, do you care to share the details of this tour?”

“Miss most gorgeous?” She tilted her head, a hint of a smirk pulling at her lips.

“Yes. That is your name isn’t it? It’s very fitting.”

“You’re quite the smooth talker.” She laughed, shaking her head at me. “You’re funny. I like that.”

“Good.” My response short and to the point, but it felt right.

“That over there is Big Ben.”

“There?” I asked, purposely pointing the opposite direction. I was a man with a plan.

“No.” She giggled, grasping at my wrist, directing it the other way under her sweet touch. “It’s right there.”

“Oh, now I see it.” Her hand lingered against my skin, so I took the opportunity to slide my hand into hers. I avoided her gaze, but from the corner of my eye I could see her smile. “That’s beautiful.” I said, relaxing as my hand settled around hers.

“England is most beautiful at night. The street lights look like stars. The city isn’t too loud either.” She went on as if us being this close was normal, like she’d let me do it again.

“I agree. It’s peaceful up here.”

“Tell me something about yourself.” She spoke, poking my hand with her thumb.

“I love hot sauce on my popcorn.”

“Hot sauce? I’ve never tried that.”

“You’re missing out.”

“I guess you’ll have to show me sometime.”

“I’d be honored. Another reason for you to visit Neverland, I have a movie theater and a popcorn machine.”

“Two invitations in one night. Eager are we?”

“Maybe just a little.” I winked at her, making that beautiful sound of joy fall from her lips. “So, what’s something I should know about you?”

“I like M&M’s in my popcorn.”

“Oh, the lady has good taste.”

“What’s your favorite thing about touring?”

“I don’t like it all that much.”

“Really? But, you’re a musician. That’s a big part of the job I’d assume.”

“It is, but I don’t like it all that much. I love meeting people that enjoy what I do. I appreciate them very much. It just takes a toll. The constant traveling is exhausting at times.”

“That makes sense.”

“I can tell you my favorite thing about England. If you’d like to know.” I offered with a smile.

“Yes. What is it?” She seemed so excited to hear my answer and I wanted nothing more than to see her reaction.

“You.”

“I— You don’t mean that.” She blushed, adverting her attention elsewhere.

“My nerves were everywhere, receiving an invitation to an event like this. I almost didn’t come. I had my doubts. People aren’t always the kindest to me, but I was wrong.”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too. It’s like there were so many reasons to hide in a corner, so many reasons to rush through small talk with strangers...” I drifted off, realizing how vulnerable I was being, but surprisingly, I didn’t feel afraid.

“Go on.”

“All those reasons to be afraid and hide simply vanished. Suddenly, they felt so silly, you know? Then…” The sparkle in her eyes was evident with the darkness surrounding us. It grew brighter with each word that fell from my lips.

“Then, what?” Her voice soft, her tone reassuring, like she knew what I was going to say, like she understood.

“Then, there was you.”

#michael jackson #michael joseph jackson #king of pop #michael jackson imagine #michael jackson x reader #michael jackson fanfic #michael jackson imagines

81 notes · View notes

imaginesbymonika · 2 months ago

Text

From the dining table | Part 9

Pairing: Damon Albarn × Gallagher! Reader

Plot: Everyone's favorite topic during the '90s and 'OOs; Y/N Gallagher. The mysterious and beautiful younger sister of the two loud brothers rarely spoke during interviews but played the guitar like no one else. And even though she never said a word about her dating-life, the list of her rumored boyfriends kept growing longer with each passing year. Yet, there was one name in particular that just kept on popping up...

Previous part | Masterlist

(2024)

Y/N quickly nods at the staff standing in front of Damon:" It's okay." However, it sounds more like a question than anything else. The brown-haired woman slowly nods before walking away.

"Please don’t say you have to talk to me. You already said that the last time.”, Y/N lets out and holds her hand up the moment he opens his mouth. Damon sighs:" But it's the truth." She stares at him before a faded sigh leaves her lips. He can see that she's thinking about what to do next. Because ever since he has known her, whenever she’s thinking about something significant; her left nostril twitches.

“Well, I- I can ask the staff if they have a room for us to talk in.”, she abruptly says, and there’s this look in her eyes that suggests that she’s just as surprised about this as he is:” I’ve got one hour. Maximum.”

——

“I doubt that you came to tell me that my brother says hello.”, she utters the moment the door shuts behind them. Y/N walks over to the neatly made bed and sits down on the edge, her gaze drops to her fingernails. He had always made her nervous in a way she couldn’t explain to anyone.

Damon chuckles, the way he always does. Too delicate for his appearance. He walks over to the desk and sits down on the chair facing her. “No, I haven’t.”, he says, and folds his hands in his lap:” Congratulations on your award, by the way.”

Y/N smiles knowingly:” I see.” “Didn’t expect you to mention me.” “That’s why you drove god knows how long to see me?”, she asks and he raises his finger. “2 hours and 45 minutes.” It makes her laugh and he figures that perhaps he has archived everything he could ever aim for.

For a moment they sit in silence, and Y/N can’t help but laugh quietly. “What?”, he asks and mirrors her:” What’s so funny.”

“I can’t believe we’re back in a hotel room. God, the hours we spent in these.”, she whispers, almost as if she’s still trying to preserve the secret. The man in front of her bites his lip to conceal the grin, however, he’s unsuccessful:” It’s like I solely ate hotel food during the time we dated. It was good though.”

“The food or-?”, Y/N asks and Damon’s smile fades. “You and me.”, he whispers:” It was perfect.” There are tears appearing in his eyes and he turns his head away from her, nevertheless, he can hear her sniffle.

“Some of that food was god awful.”, she laughs through her tears and tastes the saltiness of them while they reach her lips:” I only ate it because you were around.” “Is that so?”

“Why didn’t you pick up the phone?”, she asks, but instead of bitterness, there’s just sadness in her already fragile voice. “I was scared.”, Damon answers:” And I just- I was so heartbroken by what happened that the thought of just talking to you was too much.”

Y/N only scoffs at that:” I wanted-.” She pauses and a fresh wave of tears hits her:” I really wanted to be with you. I was prepared to full-on betray my brothers for you.” She understands how ridiculous that must sound to anyone who doesn’t know what she’s talking about. But Damon knows.

He knows the weight of that.

“Hell, I would’ve quit the band.”, she chuckles weakly, but the truthfulness of it lays thick on top of it.

He stares at her. If he’s being candid, that’s all he ever really did when it came to her; stare. Y/N looks down at her phone:” I have to go. The planes leaving soon and I-.”

“I still love you, Y/N.”

#oasis #damon albarn imagine #damon albarn x reader #damon albarn #blur x reader #blur band #blur #britpop

40 notes · View notes

thepixelelf · 2 years ago

Text

Bluff and Nonsense - she/her ver.

genres: romance, angst, some fluff, university au, not a fake dating au pairing: female reader x hoshi words: 17.0k (01:08) warnings: cursing, alcohol notes (orig, 2020): "so the title is fluffy and this was a title fic, but then it ran away on me. I really like this one so... yeah. Enjoy!” update, 2023: this is the she/her version of Bluff and Nonsense. other than the pronouns, nothing else has been changed. you can find the original they/them version here, and the he/him version here

“Soonyoung? Yeah I know him, you should too. He’s on the uni’s dance crew, and ever since he joined them, their popularity’s skyrocketed. I’ve met him a few times, great guy — got a tendency to run his mouth but hey, no one’s perfect. He’s smart anyways, probably knows how to deal with the consequences, right?”

Soonyoung never thought one bluff could lead to so much nonsense.

Kwon Soonyoung is a man of many talents. He’s the guy who could fit a whole orange in his mouth in fourth grade, the guy who always knew how to make the social studies teacher talk about his divorce instead of the world wars, and the guy who brought a live pigeon to school with no one questioning him whatsoever. He’s also the head choreographer of the university’s dance crew — you barely knew there was a dance crew until he showed up with his hand-drawn posters — as well as a totally well-rounded fine arts major. C’mon, who takes a chemistry course in the fine arts? Kwon Soonyoung, apparently.

Of his many talents though, lying is not one of them.

Which is why, when asked if he likes anyone, Soonyoung says your name instead of simply saying “no” (a much better option in hindsight). He actually likes a girl on his dance crew. Cute, funny, has those eyes you can just get lost in — lord knows Soonyoung has. But, at this relatively quiet party, with half the guests crowded on Seungcheol’s couch and the other half on the disgusting carpeted floor of his apartment, Soonyoung can’t admit his real crush because she’s sitting just a few feet away.

It wouldn’t be such a bad lie if you weren’t also sitting a few feet away.

You’re on your phone when he says your name in his heartbeat-induced panic, but you look up at the sound of it, as does Seungkwan, who was reading something on your phone from the beanbag chair you’re both sitting in.

A chorus of low, teasing ‘ooh’s rises throughout the room, almost like it’s eighth grade again and Soonyoung just got called down to the office. Except now, he might actually be in trouble. He gets a few claps on the back from his friends close enough to reach, commending him on his bravado even though he doesn’t deserve it. Really, the whole situation only dawns on Soonyoung after 6.8 seconds, which is a bit too long considering he made the situation in the first place. Blood rushes to his cheeks, not because of the alcohol in his red cup he’s yet to drink, but because you’re looking right at him, and he has no idea what to do.

Soonyoung doesn’t know you very well. In fact, he’d almost say he doesn’t know you at all.

You’re Seungkwan’s friend from one of his classes — computing science, if Soonyoung remembers correctly, but he’s not totally confident. The only reason you came tonight is because of Seungkwan. You don’t know anyone else.

With a tilt of your head, your face scrunches with question, and you look to Seungkwan for help. You know Soonyoung said your name, but you missed hearing the context. It looks like Seungkwan missed it too, seeing as the conversation you two have only makes your brow furrow more as the room chatter picks back up. Everyone else is already over Soonyoung’s sudden confession when Jeonghan starts talking about something else.

Except Soonyoung’s friends, of course. That would be too easy.

Mingyu turns to him with a stupid smile, his cheeks red from both the free opportunity to tease his upperclassman and the light beer he’s been sipping and pretending to get buzzed on all night. He nudges Soonyoung with his shoulder where they sit on the floor, leaning in to speak under the conversations surrounding them. “You didn’t tell me you like her,” he says, the jesting tone in his voice clearer than water.

“Yeah...” Soonyoung doesn’t know why he doesn’t just retract his confession, it’s not like Mingyu is close to you or anything, he’d understand. But then again, he’s bad at lying, and the girl he likes is still sitting on the couch. He scratches the back of his neck. “It’s sort of a recent thing.”

Mingyu’s smile only widens at Soonyoung’s response, his eyes turning to slits with the rise of his cheeks. “Soonie’s in looove~!”

And Soonyoung doesn’t know what to say. Nothing like this has ever happened to him before, not exactly like this, anyways. So he just looks down, scratches the back of his neck again, looks at one of his dance crew friends when she calls his name.

He doesn’t dare glance your way for the rest of the night.

Turns out you do know someone else other than Seungkwan, because once most of the guests have cleared out, leaving only half the boys to clean up, Seokmin approaches Soonyoung as he scrubs the sink of whatever that weird green stuff is.

He asks how Soonyoung knows you and says off-handedly that he’s never even seen the two of you talk. (Which is right.) He says these things shouldn’t be joked about, that you’re a person with feelings, and Soonyoung should leave you alone if he’s just doing this for comedy’s sake.

Soonyoung thinks he’s never seen Seokmin so serious.

It’s probably fine. You haven’t said anything good or bad, and other than the occasional tease from his friends, no one has taken anything too far. Maybe you’ll forget about it tomorrow. Maybe he’ll forget about it tomorrow, and it will all be okay.

Besides, it’s not like he actually likes you. And his real secret is still safe and sound.

•

Of Soonyoung’s many talents, making people sad is also not one of them.

It’s not that he actively tries to cause misery only to fail, it’s that he can’t stand upsetting anyone. He’s a people-pleaser by nature, that’s just how it is.

So he doesn’t say no when you ask him out for coffee.

And he smiles at you when you try to make conversation, even though it’s awkward and hesitant despite having a mutual friend like Seungkwan. It’s not so bad, he thinks. You’re trying, at least, and when you ask him about his interests, you actually listen, which isn’t common when he tends to over-explain his love for dance and performance. He has a coffee in his hand too, so that’s a plus.

You ask him if what he said at the party was true, and something in your eyes makes him say yes.

•

There are a few more coffee dates after that. It’s nothing official, and Soonyoung is hesitant to call the meetups “dates” because he’s not interested in dating you. But it’s a little late for that.

You seem brighter, though, every time he sees you again; he can’t bring himself to take that away, to cut the cord, to clean this mess he made.

Something about the way you two talk is nice, at least. Soonyoung can’t quite put his finger on it, and he tells himself that’s what’s drawing him back every time, not the guilt he feels sunken in his ribcage whenever you smile his way. It’s not that deep, he repeats to himself whenever you wave to him on campus, making him feel obligated to walk you to class. It’s not that deep.

He’s in the library one day when he spots you at one of the tables, books open and spread out as you scribble down notes, a pair of earbuds dangling from your ears. You haven’t seen him, so he doesn’t try to approach, just ducks back behind the bookshelf he’s been exploring. His hand is on a book he might like when a voice stops him.

“You know you’re an idiot, right?”

Minghao leans against the opposite bookshelf, his arms crossed, locked and loaded for judgement. Soonyoung looks around, but of course he’s talking to him. They’re the only ones in the row.

“Um, how do you want me to answer that?” he asks, unsure of exactly what Minghao’s talking about. Yeah, he knows he’s a bit dense sometimes, but not all the time.

Minghao rolls his eyes. “I know you like Sehee. You haven't stopped laughing like an idiot at her bad jokes." He nods his chin outwards, gesturing over Soonyoung's shoulder and through the bookshelves towards where you're sitting. "What are you doing messing with Seungkwan's friend?"

It’s not too surprising that Minghao knows — he’s an intuitive guy, but Soonyoung is still caught off guard. He asks first, under his breath, “Does anyone else know?”

“If you mean dumb and dumber, then no.” Minghao jerks his head to swing his dark bangs out of his eyes. Everyone keeps telling him to just cut his hair shorter, but he refuses for the aesthetic, or something. “Chan is way too focused on dancing to notice your dumbassery, and Jun is about as observant as a fishcake when it comes to feelings.”

Soonyoung’s shoulders fall in relief, though he didn’t even realize they’d tensed up.

“But that’s not the problem here. Why are you playing around with her if you’re into Sehee?”

“I’m not—” Soonyoung pauses, thoughts deliberate, “—I’m not playing around, okay? I just... I don’t know. You were all looking at me, and I couldn’t just say Sehee's name, she was right there!”

Minghao cocks an eyebrow at that. “But you could say hers?”

“It was a moment of weakness.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m aware.”

Soonyoung groans quietly — he’s still in a library after all. He covers his face with both hands, not wanting to look at Minghao nor have Minghao look at him. For a second, it’s blissful, awkward silence, which Soonyoung would take over Minghao’s scolding any day. But of course, no haven lasts forever.

“You’re gonna have to tell her,” Minghao says, and he’s probably right. No, he is right, Soonyoung just doesn’t want him to be.

“I can’t do that! I said I like her— twice!”

“Twice?”

“Twice!”

Minghao only drops his head for a second, scoffing at the whole situation. Soonyoung wishes he could do that too, just laugh it off because it’s someone else’s problem.

“Well, you’re going to have to say something sooner or later.” Meeting his eyes, Soonyoung realizes Minghao might actually be worried. About you, or him, or something else, he’s not sure, but the subtle fold of Minghao’s eyelids tells Soonyoung this is about more than just calling out idiocy. “And I think sooner will hurt less.”

Soonyoung knows he’s right. But he doesn’t like it.

Before he can come up with a rebuttal, though, Minghao’s hands are on Soonyoung’s shoulders, and he’s pushing him out of the row of bookshelves and straight towards your table.

“You can do it, Soonyoung, just rip the band-aid while you still can,” he whispers in Soonyoung’s ear right before one last push at his back.

Soonyoung stumbles a bit, but once he regains his footing, Minghao’s already gone and you’ve already noticed the ruckus. You pull one earbud out with a bright smile. It’s so jovial that Soonyoung almost forgets why he’s here.

“Hi Soonyoung, I didn’t see you come in,” you say, and there’s no way you’re this energized just from studying in a library.

“Uh... hi.”

“You’ve actually got the perfect timing.” Waving to him, you gesture for him to sit next to you, and he does. You pull out some sort of planner, opening it to a few months from now. “I wanted to ask when exactly your showcase is? Seungkwan’s no help at all because he only cares about his concerts and stuff. Honestly, there aren’t that many...”

You’re going to have to say something sooner or later.

Soonyoung picks later.

•

“So when are you gonna ask her out?”

Jihoon stands in front of the stove, watching his hot water simmer, a bag of dry ramen in one hand and long cooking chopsticks in the other. It’s Soonyoung’s turn to make dinner tonight, but since he says he isn’t hungry, Jihoon’s scrounging it out himself.

Soonyoung, on the other hand, sits at their tiny dinner table, his forehead pressed to the cool surface, arms hanging limp at his sides. He mumbles something of a response, but it’s nothing more than a questioning grunt, if anything.

“Oh, you know.” Even when Jihoon says your name, Soonyoung stays still. “Only the girl you’ve been on several “dates” with ever since you confessed to her at Seungcheol’s party. When are you gonna ask her on a real date?”

Tired, Soonyoung groans. “When the time is right, I guess.”

•

You work on campus. It’s some part-time job you don’t care about enough to even complain over, despite the fact that you have to deal with annoying university kids every day. Soonyoung finds this out when he has coffee with Minghao in one of the buildings he doesn’t normally frequent, and only goes to today since Minghao has a class nearby in the next hour.

The coffee isn’t great, and it’s too expensive, but Soonyoung drinks it anyways. He much prefers the coffee from the cafe he goes to with you. Because the coffee is better. Obviously.

He hears your voice first, words indiscernible with distance and overshadowed by a much louder, angrier one, but still. Minghao sees you first, though, and he points past Soonyoung to the student printing center, where you’re standing behind the counter and arguing with some guy. You don’t seem too riled, but Soonyoung can tell you want to be anywhere but there, especially when the angry guy’s voice keeps getting louder and louder.

Soonyoung’s feet bring him over before his brain can register what to do. You haven’t seen him yet, he could just walk away, but he doesn’t. Your voice becomes clearer as he approaches.

“Listen, the printing center is for education, art, or business. I can’t print this for you.”

The guy goes off about personal freedoms or whatever, Soonyoung isn’t really listening.

“No, I get that this is a student printing center, but I really don’t think your big tiddie anime gf poster has anything to do with education, art, or business.”

And that’s when the guy grabs your arm. Which results in Soonyoung grabbing his arm. Which results in the accusatory question, “What are you, her boyfriend or something?”

Now, in a perfect story, this would be the first time Soonyoung meets you. Or maybe you’ve been close friends for a while. And this would be when Soonyoung says that, yes, he is your boyfriend, and he would save the day. Except you’d be all “why would you do that?” which would result in you both having to fake date to keep that guy off your back. In this perfect story, there would be no Sehee to like and no Minghao to judge, just you and Soonyoung fake dating. Eventually, you’d both catch real feelings instead of fake ones, and then boom, happily ever after.

But this isn’t a perfect story.

Soonyoung still says yes, and the guy still backs off. In reality though, because Soonyoung never thinks before he lies, you momentarily duck behind the counter and bring a hand up to your face to cover your ever-brightening smile. In reality, Sehee still exists at the forefront of his mind every dance practice, even though you’re the one he just promptly claimed to be the boyfriend of. In reality, Minghao watches from a little ways away, sipping his coffee and shaking his head in what can only be called disappointment.

Soonyoung’s never been good at lying. One would think he’d stop by now.

•

So, it’s official.

You’ve put a heart next to his contact name. He’s put one next to yours — red, because he doesn’t know your favourite colour. Seungkwan’s done the whole if you break my friend’s heart I break you spiel and Soonyoung finally realizes he’s in too deep.

It's almost too natural, how easily you bring him into your life and how easily he finds himself fitting. It's all so wrong.

Soonyoung feels like an imposter, like there's someone meant to be by your side, but it's not him.

You pluck up the courage one day to hold his hand, and he can't pull away because the lies tying him to you are too strong. The small bluffs he's spun have weaved themselves into a net he's tangled himself in.

His dance crew congratulates him when Jun spills the news. It's all mundane, really — dating in university isn't all that uncommon. Mostly, Soonyoung gets casual "you go, dude" comments or the like, but then Sehee says nothing. She smiles, and it has to be one of the most tragically beautiful things Soonyoung's ever seen. His heart fractures, just a little, and he doesn't know if he'll ever be able to fix it.

He smiles it off. Tries to, anyways.

Chan complains that Soonyoung's too harsh that day.

•

Jihoon likes you.

Not in a "Mister Steal Yo' Girl" way, but he laughed at one of your jokes the first time you came over to Soonyoung's apartment, and ever since then, he's been convinced.

"You must feel like the luckiest guy on earth with her around," Jihoon says once you leave for the night.

Soonyoung has no idea how to tell him he's felt nothing but unlucky these past few weeks, so he doesn't.

•

He polishes up on his acting. As awful as it is to think, Soonyoung has gotten really, really good.

His smile looks genuine. It has to — he shows it to Minghao, who says it's "adequate," which basically means perfect to the lowly humans beneath him.

He's gotten good at responding to you too, copying how the male leads do it in dramas and movies. It's sort of easy.

He hates how easy it is.

Soon enough, you try befriending the whole group. Being Seungkwan's friend, you've always wanted to, but apparently this is the push you needed. The boys are quick to warm up to you because, as Soonyoung's new girlfriend, you're now a new teasing target besides Chan. The youngest was always the brunt until you came along.

You say you don't mind — that his friends are amazing despite all the jokes and chaos. He believes you.

Minghao keeps his distance, saying he doesn't want to get himself involved. He's still the only one to know the truth, and his judging stare only grows worse as the days pass. Soonyoung wants so badly to make it go away, but he knows the only way to do that would be to tell you the truth, and he's just not ready.

Soonyoung's never broken a heart before. He's never planned on it.

Sometimes life makes its own plans.

"My shift got moved to tomorrow," you tell him when he picks you up from class, one hand in his and the other in your pocket. He knows it means something, but he doesn't know what. Your lips purse into a line as you stare at your shoes. “I was thinking... could I come watch your dance practice? If that’s okay?”

Now, Soonyoung loves dancing. He loves dance. He loves to dance. Performing sends an unparalleled thrill rushing through his veins like the solar system hurtling through the universe, and it’s something he’s never felt doing anything else. Dancing with others is a beautiful connection, an emission of silent truths communicated through the body. Practice, however, is the dirty version of dance. It has to be built up first — polished. Which is why Soonyoung says what he says. He doesn’t even think it over.

“No.”

It’s what he says every time someone asks. He doesn’t invite people to practices — never has. Even after his prompt refusal, he doesn’t register his mistake until the light in your eyes wavers. It doesn't disappear — just ripples. Comes back weaker than before.

"Oh," you say. The word should sound dejected but it doesn't. There's a smile at your lips, and Soonyoung can't help but think it looks kind of like his. "That's— that's okay! I was just — I don't know, I guess I just thought... I wanted to..."

Meeting his gaze, you look at him with shaking eyes, almost as if it takes great strength to keep them on his. He tries to backpedal, but you continue.

"I'll be going home then. I've got an assignment due soon anyways, so..." You pull your hand from his grip and, from where you two were walking toward the fine arts building, turn the opposite way. Your dorm is on the other side of campus. "See you tomorrow, Soonyoung. Have fun at practice."

Something about your smile haunts him.

It's hollow; feels empty when you flash it at him before going. He thinks fake smiles all look like that — insincere. His smiles at you must be the same way.

For an awful moment, he's hopeful. Maybe this will be the trigger. Maybe you'll end this tonight — whatever "this" is that Soonyoung has with you. Maybe he won't have to tell any harsh truths at all.

He turns and walks to practice.

The routine feels lighter tonight, though Soonyoung can’t pinpoint why. His body almost floats, and while that sounds good, it’s not. The rhythm is off. He’s not landing when he should be.

His crew notices, especially Chan, who complains that Soonyoung’s too much of a cocksure choreographer to be making repeated mistakes like this. They tell him maybe everyone should take a break. He agrees, but only because he’s frustrated — and he shouldn’t channel his anger into dance. Not this one, at least.

Everyone spreads throughout the studios to the edges, where they lean their body weight on the walls and slide down, water bottles in hand. The room reeks of sweat and feet, but Soonyoung’s used to it by now. He guzzles down half of his water in one go and pulls out his phone.

[❤] Sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean to react all... cold? Seungkwan told me you never invite anyone to practice, so it makes total sense why you said no

[❤] If I’m ever crossing any boundaries, let me know, okay?

Of course you’d be understanding. Soonyoung wouldn’t be that lucky.

He tosses his phone haphazardly in his bag, groaning and throwing his head back so it hits the wall with a dampened thud. The pain is dull compared to the thoughts top-spinning in his mind.

Across the studio, Minghao clears his throat, raising an eyebrow at Soonyoung when he opens his eyes to look at him. It only takes two reluctant nods for Minghao to understand the source of Soonyoung’s groans, and he does nothing to react but look away. Soonyoung thinks that’s almost worse than the judging eyes. At least at that point Minghao thought he was something other than a lost cause.

He doesn’t text you back. By the time he thinks of something a boyfriend would say, the time to say it has passed.

•

How much longer is he going to let this go on?

Soonyoung wonders that to himself as he sits, returned to Seungcheol's apartment for another one of his "getties" as people are so apt to call them. He's never understood the difference between a getty and a party, and he's always been too stubborn to ask, knowing he'd be mercilessly made fun of for not knowing something apparently all university students knew.

This one isn't so different from the last. More or less the same crowd, the same atmosphere as the night goes on. Only this time, when everyone's settled down in what can hardly be called a circle, Soonyoung's on the couch, sunken into the too-old cushions with an arm wrapped around your shoulders. You're far from your last claimed spot with Seungkwan on that ratty old beanbag chair, sitting comfortably under Soonyoung's arm with a plastic cup of whatever Jeonghan concocted for you — which you've yet to drink much of.

Sehee sits across from you both while she laughs at something Wonwoo says. You laugh too, but Soonyoung barely notices, eyes glued to the girl they've been stuck on since she joined his dance crew over a year ago. He wants to tell her how beautiful she is when she smiles, even under the light of Seungcheol's dingy apartment, but he can't. He wants to tell her how he's felt for months, but you're next to him. He wants to have a fucking drink but all he has in his cup is fucking iced green tea because he knows if he drinks he'll fuck up again.

Just like last time.

"You okay?" you whisper in his ear at one point.

He turns to see your concerned expression, and it only makes Soonyoung hate this even more. He doesn't deserve your concern.

"I'm fine."

But he's not fine.

He doesn't participate in much conversation — only speaks when spoken to, and even then with few words. You seem to become tense next to him, but he does nothing to try and fix it. Just tonight, he's going to let himself be tired.

Three times, you offer to leave, and all three he refuses. You give up eventually, though he can tell you know something's off. God, if he were drunk, he wouldn't even have to think about you for a whole night.

Somehow the topic of discussion turns to couples, and suddenly, an entire room of eyes is on you and Soonyoung. He barely catches the question before you're already pondering your answer.

What do the two lovebirds love most about each other?

You look at him. At him, at him. He feels your stare in the dip of his throat because he can't seem to swallow anymore. It's like his soul is being scanned for viruses.

"Hmm..." You let your chin fall into your palm with a smile. It's real. Too real. "I like his resolve," you finally say. "If he wants to do something, he does it." With a loud exhale through your nose, you tilt your head, still meeting his eyes with your own. Soonyoung's mouth slightly parts, slack with something he can't name. "I could learn a thing or two from him."

The room bristles with your answer, various response piping up around. Soonyoung sort of registers Chan saying, "That's cute. I wanna vomit," but he's too busy thinking about you, about how you've come to like something about him as deep as that when all he's done is pretend to even like you at all.

And even when his mind swims with that, Sehee asks again.

"Then Soonyoung, what do you like about her?"

It sort of hurts. Soonyoung's not afraid to admit to himself that hearing Sehee ask what he likes about you sends pain straight through his ears to his heart. There's an awkward pause and everyone's looking at him expectantly and, god, he wishes he stole your drink when he had the chance.

"I..." His throat goes dry. His lips part, but there aren't any words to slip past them. "I, um..." He looks to you, and your eyes speak volumes. Everyone else in this room has a sort of... hungry look. They want to know Soonyoung's answer for one reason or another, maybe to tease with or to ridicule or even wish for themselves. But you, your eyes meet his and he knows you're not expecting anything. That hurts too. He doesn't know why. But even then, he can't think of the words. Any words. He steals a glance at Sehee, whose expression is curious, doe eyes slightly giddy from alcohol. She's pretty.

"I like her laugh," he says. It's not about you. "Whenever she laughs, I think to myself, 'What I wouldn't give to see her laugh again'."

Your eyes move to the plastic cup you've got gripped between two hands in your lap, and Seungkwan points out your flustered state to the entire room despite the fact everyone can see it as long as they've got working eyes. You purse your lips together to contain a smile, but it doesn't work. Even Soonyoung can see that.

He needs a drink.

Having to go to the bathroom is a lousy excuse, and Soonyoung knows it, but he whispers that in your ear anyways and retracts his arm from your shoulder before escaping. He does go to the bathroom, a small thing with a shower and no bath, but all he does in there is stare at himself in the mirror. And when that becomes too much, his feet.

Someone else eventually has to use the bathroom for its actual purpose, so he opens it to the banging fist outside and slides past the person back into the hallway. He pauses before walking all the way back. You're caught up in some other conversation now, laughing and dramatically waving your hands as you deny some crazy embarrassing story Seungkwan's trying to spill about you. Seems you've already integrated yourself with his friends more than he thought.

Since your attention is occupied, Soonyoung instead ducks into the half-kitchen — not necessarily out of sight, but no one's really paying attention anyways. He knows he shouldn't take any chances, but he really, really wants to let go. He's been wearing a facade ever since he said your name that night.

"I wouldn't, if I were you."

Minghao's voice has Soonyoung jerking up and banging his head on the door of the open fridge he was rummaging through. He winces in pain, kneading his fingers into his scalp as if that will do anything.

"Wouldn't what?" he snaps.

"I dunno." Minghao shrugs, and it's almost infuriating how nonchalant he is. "Do something you might regret, I guess."

He takes the yet unopened bottle from Soonyoung's hands, reaching beyond him to put it back in place. There's no point in fighting against him since he's undeniably right, but Soonyoung grumbles anyways. His eyes glance every few seconds to you on the couch. If you happen to hear anything...

Well, he doesn't know exactly. But he doesn't want to find out.

"You have to end it."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I just—" Soonyoung takes in a breath, too loud for his liking. He lowers his voice. "I can't, okay? I don't want to hurt her."

"So you're just going to date her based on false pretenses because you're too much of a coward to admit your mistakes?" Voice laced with sharpness, Minghao places his palms flat on the counter.

Soonyoung takes a deep breath through his nose, lips twisting in frustration. "Yeah, okay? Yeah," he whispers. "That's exactly what I'm gonna do."

A second passes. Minghao's brow furrows.

"And quite frankly," Soonyoung continues, "I'd rather you keep your nosy ass out of my business from now on."

He nearly storms off right then with the last word, but Minghao's fingers around his elbow stop him.

"You're going to get yourself hurt," Minghao warns through his teeth. He nods towards you. "And her in the process."

"We'll see about that."

Soonyoung has acted on impulse before. It happened with the pigeon, it happened with your name, and it's happening right now. Nothing is compelling him other than the absolute need to prove Minghao wrong, and even then, he doesn't know why.

He sits back down next to you, his spot saved by some miracle considering the surrounding company. The look on your face is happy, jovial. You must be having a right old time. His nerves strike with a feeling he's never quite experienced before.

When you study his face, no doubt not nearly as cheerful as yours, the expression you held falters to worry.

"You okay?" is once again the question on your lips, quiet, meant for his ears only.

Impulse is a scary thing. Soonyoung hates it almost as much as lying.

He leans in, crashing his lips on yours with his eyes half closed. His lips move and yours don't. Soonyoung can't even be sure you've closed your eyes, but at this very moment, he doesn't care. All he knows is he's angry and Minghao is watching.

This isn’t your first kiss — he knows because you’ve talked to him about this very topic. This is, however, to your understanding, the first “real” relationship you’ve ever been in. You told him yourself that you don’t really count that past kiss as your first, that you felt a bit... violated when it happened.

Soonyoung thinks this isn’t all too different.

He steals your second first kiss, and later, staring at the water-stained stucco ceiling of his bedroom, he kicks himself so hard it hurts.

•

You show up to movie night. Apparently Jihoon invited you — explained it like this:

“You won’t have to be so clingy with me if she’s here.”

At first, Soonyoung thinks Jihoon just wants to drop their roommate movie nights because he’s always complained about them, but Jihoon sticks around during Anastasia; sings along with you during Once Upon a December despite the fact that neither of you really know the words. He sits right in front of you two on the couch, cross-legged on the floor with a bowl of popcorn in his lap, that of which he only offers to you twice and Soonyoung once.

Whatever. You’re a better cuddler than Jihoon anyway.

Somehow it doesn’t feel forced when you lean your head on Soonyoung’s shoulder, or when he wraps his arm around your waist to get comfortable. He blames it on how tired he is, how he always gets on movie night after a week of classes and practices and too much work for one person to handle. Jihoon complains all the time that he’s too touchy when tired.

You absentmindedly play with his fingers for most of the movie. He doesn’t mind.

It’s been about a month now.

Soonyoung doesn’t kiss you again after the first time. Doesn’t stop you, either, but you’re more of an on-the-cheek kind of person. He thinks you think he wants to take this slow, even though he initiated the first big step (as convoluted as it was). He lets you think what you want.

Nasty business, it is.

Cleaning a bowl that once held popcorn. All the grease that sticks to the side because Jihoon likes to use too much butter. All the grains of salt that get underneath Soonyoung’s fingernails. He’s washing, Jihoon’s drying. It’s an arrangement of sorts.

You’ve already left for the night, gone back to your dorm since it’s only a five minute walk or so through campus. Jihoon insisted on Soonyoung escorting you, but you only smiled sweetly and refused. Maybe Soonyoung should’ve argued harder against you. He didn’t though. That’s why he’s scrubbing a bit too harshly now — he doesn’t like messing up.

Seems that’s all he’s good for lately.

“You’re unhappy.”

Soonyoung stops scrubbing. The only noise in the whole apartment is the slow gurgle of the sink because even with a plug, such an old thing just lets the hot water seep away as the seconds go by. Jihoon’s gaze is on the pan he’s drying, but Soonyoung knows his heart is in the question. It always is.

“I’m not,” he tries to deny, but it’s difficult to fool a person like Jihoon. (Especially since Soonyoung can’t even convince himself.)

The non-stick pan from yesterday’s dinner clangs against an older one when Jihoon puts it away. He looks at Soonyoung, but by then he’s turned back to washing the popcorn bowl, so their eyes don’t end up meeting.

“I’ve known you since tenth grade. You think I can’t tell when you’re upset?”

Soonyoung finds it hard to read Jihoon’s feelings most of the time. He didn’t realize he was such an open book the other way around.

Sighing, he continues to scrub the bowl, which has probably been clean for a minute already. “I’m just... stressed.”

“About?”

Minghao already knows; already thinks lowly of Soonyoung for it. If Jihoon knew... Soonyoung doesn’t know if he can take that.

So he lies. Again.

“Just the dance showcase.”

It isn’t a whole lie, not really, but he can’t call it the truth either.

Jihoon takes the bowl from Soonyoung’s grasp and rinses it under the tap. Since that’s the last dish, Soonyoung is stuck with nothing for his hands to do. They rest on the edge of the sink, but his fingers ache for a task.

Jihoon, the friend that he is, says, “That’s not for three months, though. I’m sure you’ll be perfect by then.”

“I don’t know...”

“Well I do.” Eyes meet eyes, a pair determined, a pair apprehensive. “Everything will work out.”

“...Okay.”

•

Soonyoung measures time in terms of you now.

When he last texted you. When he last saw you. When he last spoke to you.

It’s all a very elaborate calculation — how much time he’s spent on you versus how much time he should spend on you. No relationship is quite like this one, he thinks, and it’s quite the romantic notion out of context. The fact remains, every interaction he has with you only pulls him further and deeper into his lie.

Soonyoung’s time moves a bit slower now.

Faster, sometimes, but only when he doesn’t want it to.

•

You tell him you might be in love with him.

He says he might be in love with you.

He’s never hated lying more.

•

Jihoon is cleaning out the fridge when the buzzer goes off, so since he’s close by, he picks up the old corded phone attached to the wall. From his spot on the couch, Soonyoung looks up from his phone to see Jihoon cover the receiver and mouth your name. Jihoon makes some sort of gesture with his hands, and somehow Soonyoung understands that as, were you expecting her?

His eyes widen as it settles in that no, he’s not expecting you. The apartment is a mess.

Jihoon buzzes you in, hangs up, and immediately moves from the fridge to the coffee table, throwing the laundry he was planning on folding back in the plastic hamper and shoving the pile in Soonyoung’s lap.

“Take care of this,” he says. “I’ll clear up the kitchen.”

Right. Can’t have you thinking your boyfriend and his roommate are slobs.

Soonyoung reacts quickly, standing from his spot on the couch with the laundry basket in hand. He dashes to his room, where he plans to stuff the laundry in his closet and save that problem for later, but once he gets there, he realizes his room is even worse. There are dirty clothes dispersed all over his bed and old coffee cups littering his desk. Scrambling to shove the new laundry in his closet, the dirty clothes in the now empty hamper, and gather all the paper cups in his arms, Soonyoung’s breath starts to catch.

When he emerges from his room with two armfuls of garbage, he finds you at the door with Jihoon, your face hidden in his shoulder and your arms wrapped tight around his waist. Jihoon’s arms are up, almost like he’s being held at gunpoint, and his eyes widen even further when he catches sight of Soonyoung.

“Uhh... it’s for you.”

Soonyoung can hear your quiet hiccups even though they’re muffled in Jihoon’s shirt. He can’t bear it when people cry.

Yeah, maybe he’s been pretending to like you for a long time now, but he’s not a monster.

Right?

He likes you as a person. As a friend. And there’s no way he’s letting his friend go through pain like this.

Soonyoung swiftly discards his trash into the garbage bin and approaches you and Jihoon. At the commotion, you lift your head from Jihoon’s shoulder, eyes all red and puffy. Your lips press together, emotions nearly bursting at the seams, but they finally break out when Soonyoung opens his arms wide.

“C’mere.”

You practically flail into his embrace, arms wrapping around his torso in a vice grip as you hide your face again. He doesn’t ask if you’re okay — he knows you’re not.

Jihoon stands in the doorway for a few seconds, just looking at you and Soonyoung clutching at each other in the middle of the apartment before he shuts the front door and clears his throat.

“I’ll just, uh, I’ll be — um. Mhm. Yup.”

He escapes to his room.

Soonyoung squishes his cheek to your temple as you both stay there. You’re shaking, and his arms squeeze tighter. If only he could make it stop. He doesn’t know what to say or do to make you feel better.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, though quiet and hesitant.

You shake your head, mumbling something he can’t quite make out. He pulls back a bit, just enough to see your face and gently cup your cheeks in his palms. His thumbs rub at your cheeks, smoothing any stray tears across your skin.

“What’s that?”

“Just...” Your eyes glisten. His heart beats. “Could you please just hold me?”

And he does.

Decidedly, his bed is much more comfortable than standing in the living room, so he sways, rocking side to side with small steps that force you to walk backwards. His smile, though, is reassuring, and you follow his guidance without much complaint. He sits you down on his bed, thankful that he cleaned up beforehand, and slowly leans you down so you’re both on your sides, facing each other. Pulling you closer, he lets you rest your head on his chest. Your hand lies flat on top of him, but eventually your fingers curl, clutching a bit of Soonyoung’s shirt between them. Silent tears fall from your eyes to his chest, but he doesn’t care.

His arm underneath you wraps around, hand landing on your back so his thumb can rub soothing circles.

It’s quiet.

Funny. Soonyoung used to dislike silence with you — always felt the need to fill it with conversation or jokes or laughter. He wonders when it was last since he felt that way.

Soonyoung doesn’t know how much time passes. His eyes stick to his bedroom ceiling as he holds you close, thoughts on everything and nothing all at once. Are you asleep? Your tears stopped some time ago.

His question is answered when your voice, small and unsure, breaks the long-standing silence.

“Soonyoung?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I tell you about it?”

He cranes his neck to look at you, but it doesn’t really work. “Of course,” he says. “Why wouldn’t you be able to?”

You sigh. “I don’t know. I just... I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not.”

“I know, but—”

“You’re not.”

You look up at him finally, and seeing your smile sends warmth through his blood. Your face is still looks wrecked from tears gone by, but your smile pushes all that out of the way.

“Thank you,” comes past your lips in a whisper. Then, after a moment of waiting, you say, “It’s just that... I... this — ugh.” You hide your face in his shirt again. “This is so embarrassing. I don’t even know why I got so worked up.”

Soonyoung doesn’t respond to that, just pats your back a few times and encourages you to keep going. You toy with the fabric of his shirt.

“This guy I used to know — I thought I’d never see him again, but he showed up today. Ran into him when I was walking back from the convenience store.” You bite the inside of your lip. “I haven’t thought about him in a long time, but, I don’t know, I guess seeing him just brought all these memories back all at once.”

“Bad ones?”

A breathy laugh escapes you. “Sure, you could say that.”

The silence comes back, and your brows furrow, almost like you’re trying to solve the problem all on your own. But you don’t have to. Soonyoung is here.

“Do you remember when I told you about my first kiss? Like, my real first kiss?”

Soonyoung hums. Of course he remembers.

“Back in high school, I used to have this friend. Sammy. She was — god, she was beautiful. And kind, and smart, and just... amazing. I miss her a lot. She’s abroad now, travelling the world with her sister. I think she’s in Peru now.” You chuckle at the mention of your old friend, but soon your smile twists into a frown. “This guy... I don’t like saying his name, but he liked Sammy. Everyone did, I don’t blame him for that, honestly. He was pretty popular back then — one of those sports boys, you know? Thinking about it now, he could’ve easily gotten with Sammy if he hadn’t been so conniving.”

“Conniving?”

“Yeah, he was... I don’t know how he got the idea in his head, but he came to me first. He kept hanging out with me, taking me on these... dates? But they weren’t really dates, all we did was talk about Sammy — what she liked, what she didn’t like. I knew he was using me, but I just... let him, I guess. Maybe back then I was just so caught up in being needed that I didn’t really mind being used.”

Soonyoung hugs you tighter.

“I guess he felt sorry, maybe? Right before he went to go ask Sammy out, he just... laid one on me. It was stupid. Like a pity kiss for my service or whatever. I wasn’t in love with the guy or anything, but it felt so... degrading. Like all I deserved was some action from a conventionally good-looking guy."

Your tears come back, brimming at the edge of your eyelids.

“I don’t know, it just — it just made me feel so...”

You take a breath. Exhale.

“...worthless.”

Soonyoung doesn’t fail to see the irony here, at least, but he feels slightly lifted. Whoever this guy is, Soonyoung’s a million times better.

“You’re not worthless,” he says — because he knows it’s true.

“I know.” You readjust yourself curled around him, wiping away the tears which haven’t fallen. “I mean, I know now.” Sighing, you wrap your arm around his waist, somehow pulling him closer than he already was. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being here. For being you. For letting me be me.”

“It is my absolute pleasure to serve you, your majesty.”

You wack him with the sleeve of your sweater. “You’re such a dork!”

Your laugh is nice. Soonyoung hopes to hear it again soon.

“You know,” you say, eyes closed as you lie there with him on his bed. “Normally I would’ve gone to Seungkwan with my problems, but tonight...”

“Tonight?”

“You make me feel safe, Soonyoung. Thank you.”

His eyes close. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “That, and if I told Seungkwan, he would’ve found the guy and beat him to a pulp.”

“Why can I see that?”

“Because it’s true.”

You stay the night.

•

With a group of friends as big as Soonyoung’s, it’s about once every blue moon that the boys find a time that works for everyone, especially coming up on finals season. They all have their own worries around this time: the dance showcase, the big play, last-minute assessments, and — of course — finals.

So when they’re all free for barbecue one night, everyone’s ecstatic. Reservations are made, gratuities are calculated, and the group chat blows up every few hours with various changes to plans. (Mostly from Mingyu, who’s eager to show off his grilling skills.)

But of course, university is university, and it’s inevitable that someone has to bail out. That someone being Soonyoung.

The dance showcase creeps up a bit faster than anyone likes, and now Soonyoung’s professor is forcing him to choreograph an entire song for some freshmen only a month before the whole thing goes onstage.

First of all, who signs up for a showcase only four weeks before the performance? Who lets them sign up?

And second of all, doesn’t his professor realize Soonyoung has a life? He’s got other dances to work on, other classes to study for, friends to have barbecue with. How is he supposed to cram an entire choreography — not the mention the time it’ll take to teach the freshmen — into his already hectic lifestyle?

But Soonyoung is a people-pleaser. He doesn’t say no.

Instead, he regretfully messages the group chat, saying he can’t hang out tonight in favour of attempting to choreograph at least a quarter of the song in one sitting. He gets the usual whining, but they all know they can’t change his mind, so it fades out fast.

What he doesn’t expect is for them to invite you instead.

“It’s a thirteen person reservation,” Seungcheol reasons. “Besides, she’s basically one of us by now.”

Soonyoung can’t exactly argue with that.

So, you go to the restaurant with them while Soonyoung heads to the studio. Minghao picks you up along with Vernon and Chan, which sends an anxious bit of worry down Soonyoung’s spine, but he does nothing about it. If Minghao wanted to tell you, he would’ve by now.

You send him a good luck text.

[🍥] Don’t let those kids work you into the ground!

He stares at your words for a bit, distracted from finding the song he’s supposed to use. Your contact name is different now — one of those naruto fishcakes because of that time you took him out for ramen. That night had been full of laughter and loud, borderline obnoxious slurping, ending with the beautiful finale of Soonyoung throwing a fishcake straight into your open mouth.

You were the one that sweet-talked you both out of getting banned.

Soonyoung finally opens his music app and finds the song the freshmen requested (a rather boring one, if you ask him) which he sets to max volume. He doesn’t bother plugging his phone into the speaker system, not when he’s the only one in the studio.

Maybe he can do this.

•

“The trick is to add eggs and use less water,” you say as you scoop more batter onto the waffle iron.

Jihoon snorts from where he sits at the table, still shoveling more whipped cream and strawberry-smothered waffle in his mouth. “Are you sure the trick isn’t to just not be Soonyoung?”

“Hey!” Soonyoung pauses his own eating just to pout. “My waffles are good!”

“Sure, you keep telling yourself that.”

Both you and Jihoon laugh at Soonyoung’s expense, only further accentuating the pout on his face. You and Jihoon are too alike in that aspect. Well, actually, Soonyoung knows you’d never laugh at him, but he still can’t be sure about Jihoon. One time, back in high school, Soonyoung tripped over (what he thought was) a dead bird, and Jihoon laughed for hours — though Soonyoung always exaggerates the story into him laughing for days.

You sit down next to him with your own plate of waffles. There’s flour dusted on your arms, but you don’t seem to mind.

“You’ve got a little...” You point a finger at the corner of your mouth.

He knows. Soonyoung can feel the cool whipped cream right where you say it is.

He smiles wide. “I’m saving it for later.”

“Hmm...”

You say nothing, just smile as you lean in, kissing the corner of his lips. It’s quick, chaste, and barely a real kiss, but Soonyoung’s heart bounces in his chest. He’s never been kissed like that before.

He wonders if this is what it’s like to be loved.

That thought, though, he pushes back for another time.

“Gross. You guys made me lose my appetite,” Jihoon says. He keeps eating.

•

With eyes drooping shut every few seconds, Soonyoung decides it’s time to call it quits on the chemistry homework. It’s nearly one in the morning, anyways. He flips his textbooks shut and gathers up all his notes, putting them all in a haphazard pile that he’ll worry about in the morning. Swivelling in his chair, his eyes land on you.

Oh. He forgot you’re here.

You’re snuggled up on top of his covers, one arm wrapped around the pillow your head should be on, eyes closed as even, slow breaths come past your slightly parted lips. One of his hoodies is draped over your legs like a blanket. He wonders why you didn’t just get under the covers.

Well, he has been walking you home ever since he hadn’t some time ago. Maybe you were waiting.

He feels a bit guilty as he brushes his teeth and washes his face, but not too bad since you only have afternoon classes tomorrow. Maybe he can treat you to something in the morning to make up for it.

After he tucks you under a fluffy throw blanket, he crawls into bed and lies on his side, facing you.

Your other hand is lax, palm up and fingers curled, almost like you’re holding something invisible.

His hand would fit perfectly.

The tips of his fingers graze over the lines on your palm. Slow. Trepidatious.

You shift, fingers unconsciously curling around Soonyoung’s hand.

He closes his eyes.

•

The moves aren’t working.

The moves aren’t working and the music isn’t working and the dance isn’t working and nothing is working.

Soonyoung groans in frustration, almost screaming with his fingers threaded through his damp hair as he messes up yet another landing. He’s drenched in sweat, and it’s only been so many hours since the rest of the crew left for the night, not that he’s kept track.

It’s less than a week until the showcase. Six days, as Chan is apt to remind everyone with his stupid holiday countdown app.

That freshmen choreography is already over and done with — Soonyoung’s made it, he’s taught it to those over-eager nuisances, and if they need anything more, that’s on them. They’re no longer his responsibility.

That’s not what has him in such a state right now.

His solo — the one he’s been planning for the entire semester — it just doesn’t... feel right. He’s been slaving over it for days now, reworking the steps, figuring out what to take out and what to replace. But the more he fixes it, the more it feels wrong.

He can’t get the steps right. He can’t get anything right.

What is wrong with him?

He starts the music again at exactly one minute, thirty-eight seconds. The moves are clear in his mind. One step. Two steps. Sweep. Spin. Jump—

He falls.

The music goes on.

Soonyoung slams his fist onto the softwood floor, cursing at his ineptitude. He stays like that for a moment, eyes screwed shut and fists clenched so tight his nails dig into his palms. The song ends, only to restart again, but Soonyoung barely notices.

Screw the music. He stands; positions himself; tries again.

Again.

He falls.

He yells out at the floor, at his feet, at whatever is holding him back.

His reflection in the mirror stares back at him.

Mind blank, he sits there, legs stretched out in front of him as he hunches over, eyes closed to the world around. His breaths come out shaky and uneven, but even though every moment sitting still feels like eternity, his lungs fail to calm.

Someone knocks on the door, and for a second, Soonyoung thinks it’s Jun coming to tell him to go home for the night. He doesn’t want to, so he doesn’t look up.

The door opens, he can hear the quiet shuffling of hesitant feet that have removed their shoes just because the sign on the door told them to.

“Soonyoung?”

Your voice is clear — like a single drop of water coalescing into a whole — and it cuts through the sound of blood rushing past Soonyoung’s ears.

He looks up to see you standing a good length away, almost like you’re scared to approach. You’re wearing pyjamas, a thick sweater pulled over your shoulders and fuzzy socks donning your feet. Something bulges from the pocket of your sweater.

“What are you...”

“Minghao called me.”

In the back of his mind, a small part of Soonyoung wonders exactly when you and Minghao have gotten close enough to call each other, but the thought doesn’t stay for long. It can’t, really, not when you’re in front of him.

When Soonyoung says nothing more, you take another step forward. “What’s wrong?”

To anyone else, he might say nothing. Absolutely nothing is wrong.

His voice breaks when he tries to laugh.

“Everything.”

Your eyes soften, a small smile tugging at your lips. It’s not one of those pitiful smiles, he can tell, but it’s not fake, either. You bring your hands together in front of you, fiddling with the tips of your fingers as your eyes move from them to his gaze again. “I’m coming over. Is that okay?”

He nods.

First, you find his phone and turn down the music until it’s gone. You sit right behind him, legs spread on either side of his body, and you wrap your arms around his waist, pressing flush to his back and resting your cheek between his shoulder blades. He squirms a bit.

“I’m all sweaty,” he tries to argue, but you only squeeze him tighter.

“Yeah, you are.”

He stops resisting. It’s much too hot, what with his hours of constant exercise and your thick layers, but he can’t complain.

“Do you want to talk about it?” This time it’s your turn to ask.

“...Just hold me?”

And you do.

You press a kiss to the back of his neck. Slow, soft, and when your lips leave his searing skin, your forehead replaces them.

That’s when the dam breaks.

Hot, fat tears roll from Soonyoung’s eyes down his cheeks as sobs rack through his chest. The vibrations shake him and you all at once, but your hold never falters. He can’t see anything, only a blur of what should be his legs and your arms wrapped around his stomach. His hands go to clutch at your arms, desperate to hold onto something; to not let him sink.

It’s ugly, the way he cries, but you let it happen. You hold him.

This is what it’s like.

Eventually, his desperate hands find yours, his arms crossed so his right is over your right, his left over your left. His fingers roam over the smooth backs of your hands until they reach your fingers and interlock. The palms of your hands are warm compared to his fingertips.

You’ve locked onto his body language by now — you’re fluent, so you know to continue pressing reassuring, slow kisses into his skin. You know to whisper little words that should mean nothing, but coming from your lips, mean everything.

He’s going to be okay.

For some reason, coming from you, he believes it.

You hold him until the hiccuping stops, until the tears are just dry streaks on his face, until his breath comes out in long streams instead of bursts.

His eyes stay shut as he feels you shift. One of your hands slips out of his grasp, your arm reaching back, and Soonyoung almost whines until he feels its return.

“Look,” you whisper.

It itches to open his eyes, but when he does, he sees what’s in your hand, right in front of him. A small stuffed tiger sits in your palm, positioned anatomically incorrect like a teddy bear, a velvet heart between its paws. Stitched white letters read:

Go get ‘em, tiger!

You chuckle lightly, repositioning yourself so your chin hooks over his shoulder. “Cheesy, I know. I was going to give this to you the day of the showcase, but I think you could use it right about now.”

Gingerly, Soonyoung lifts his hands together, and you place the plush in his awaiting palms.

His voice is slow to restart, but he manages to say, “Thank you.”

Hands now free, you wrap yourself around his waist again. “Anything for you.”

Such a simple sentence, that, and yet the confession sends blood to Soonyoung’s ears in the form of an awfully embarrassing blush. He runs his thumbs over the fuzzy fabric of the tiger plush.

“Soonyoung?”

“Hm?”

You press your lips to the crook of his shoulder, voice muffled in the fabric of his shirt. “I won’t force you to stop practicing. I know this is important to you.” Soonyoung feels your breath fan over his skin. “But I also want you to rest — you shouldn’t overwork yourself.”

One of your hands rises to his chin, guiding it up so he looks forward at the studio mirror and meets your gaze in the reflection.

“Whaddya say we do, hm?” You tilt your head, and Soonyoung thinks his pupils may be heart-shaped. “Do you want to practice more? Or can I take you home?”

“Just...” He swallows what’s left in his dry mouth. “Just once more.”

You smile. “Okay.”

As you get up, you run your hands up to Soonyoung’s shoulder and down to his hand, where you playfully pretend to pull him up with you. He laughs, hiding his face behind the tiger plush for a second before he stands, tugging your hands as he does so you fall into him when he rights himself. Both your hands are squeezed between him and you, while his unoccupied arm finds its way to your side.

Another smile tugs at your lips at the proximity. You shift your hands up so they wrap over his shoulders, linking behind his head. Leaning closer, your eyes gleam under the fluorescent lights. To the sound of silence, you sway together, waltzing in the dead of night.

“I’ll be outside, okay?”

Soonyoung’s expression tightens, eyebrows shifting in confusion. “Why?”

“Well,” you say. “I know how you feel about audiences during practice.”

Something about your smile right now makes Soonyoung feel so undeniably safe. You understand him. Never once have you questioned him over why he doesn’t invite you to practices, never once did you pressure him to change that.

“Do you know how I feel about you?”

“Hmm, do I?”

Do you?

“Stay.”

And you do.

•

Here’s the thing about dance showcases:

They’re big, they’re flashy, they take the entire year to plan, and they’re over in one night.

Soonyoung stands in the wings, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, hopefully not loud enough for anyone to hear. He watches as the group performing before his solo finishes up their dance, though he knows there is at least a minute before he’ll have to go on.

A tap on his shoulder makes him turn his head, and he sees Sehee’s smiling face.

“Nervous?” she asks, her voice hidden beneath the music.

She’s all dolled up, dressed in her costume with a sleek leather jacket to bring everything together. Her eyes glimmer just as much as her eyelids.

“You have no idea,” Soonyoung jokes, but his heart isn’t really in it.

Sehee tilts her head; blinks a few times. “You’ll do amazing. You always do.”

For what it’s worth, Soonyoung hasn’t forgotten his attraction. Sehee’s words soothe him to some extent, pump him up, even. It’s slightly terrifying — how much she still affects him even now.

You’re in the audience tonight, third row from the front, somewhere in the middle. Your seat is between Seungkwan’s and Jihoon’s, whereas all the other boys came (almost) too late and had to find seats elsewhere.

The music ends, applause erupts, and Soonyoung knows it’s his turn. He waits for the group to exit on the opposite side, and when the resounding claps quiet down, he takes the first step onstage.

Something Soonyoung has almost always known: stage lights are blinding. If they’re set up right, anyone onstage will have a damn hard time seeing anyone in the audience. He can’t see you — couldn’t during his previous performance with the crew, either. The only reason he knows you’re there is the million assuring texts you sent him before you had to turn off your phone for the show.

But he knows you’re there. He knows you’re watching.

Soonyoung stands with his left foot on the spike mark, right where he’s practiced time and time again ever since they transitioned into the space. Music floods his veins, and the world is gone.

He wouldn’t call it an escape. Soonyoung doesn’t use dance to get away, it’s not like that. This world he creates with dance — this other space where nothing exists except him and the music and the floor and the feeling — he chooses to go there. Euphoria, he thinks it might be called. Euphoric.

The space takes him. He lets it.

And then it’s over.

Soonyoung’s breath leaves him in bursts, his shoulders heaving despite how hard he fights to keep them still in his final pose. His back faces the audience, his right arm stretched out and up, fingers curling around nothing. Stars dance before his eyes — which he fails to catch with his outstretched hand.

He thinks he can faintly hear applause, but it’s nothing compared to the heart beating in his chest. Your voice plays in his ears, yet he knows it’s simply his imagination — his recollection.

I like your dance, you’d said that night. I’m no expert, no judge, but I like it. I love it, honestly. Your dancing... I don’t know. I wish I had the words. It’s like... a little box.

A little box?

You’ve got a little box in your hand. Brown, maybe the size of your palm. You open it and there’s no bottom, no sides, no shape, just an expanse of universe in blues and pinks and purples and whatever colours we don’t know exist. You look inside and reach your hand in, somehow fitting in the tiny yet infinite space. Your fingers brush through starlight like strands of silk, like the rays are minnows you’ve met during a summer dip. Like that. A little box.

I thought you said you didn’t have the words?

I don’t. Not enough.

Soonyoung vaguely registers the lights going black, the way his feet drift him offstage, the music of the seniors’ finale.

At some point, the lights are back on. Not the stage lights, but the harsh fluorescents once the audience has fully filtered out into the lobby. Most of them will leave, but the family and friends of performers are sure to stay, waiting there to congratulate and fawn over the dancers as soon as they’re let go for the night. Somewhere in his mind, Soonyoung knows his friends are outside waiting for him — him, Jun, Minghao, and Chan.

Roses are passed around. He’s never seen a blue rose before, but some dancers walk around with them as they change out of costume and gather their things. He points out a yellow rose from the bunch presented to him, but it turns out to be a bouquet for him specifically, and he takes the whole thing with his jaw slightly hanging. Everything’s a bit... slow. Soonyoung feels like he’s wading through water.

He hasn’t changed yet, simply standing in his costume as he watches people go back and forth. Other performers move from dressing room to dressing room, cleaning up what they have to while simultaneously patting each other’s backs. Techs go around making sure everything’s in order, nothing lost or forgotten. They put away the MC’s microphones and bother the dancers for not taking proper care of props even though it’s only been one night.

Another tap on his shoulder; it’s Sehee again.

“Can I talk to you?” she asks.

He follows her to a corner of the stage, where the curtains hang and hide the two — for the most part.

She turns almost too abruptly, causing Soonyoung to stumble over his own two feet to avoid bumping into her.

“This is really hard for me to say,” she starts. “But I have to get it out.”

Soonyoung nods, maybe saying something close to a confirmation, but he can’t really tell. He’s a little lightheaded. Sehee has changed out of her leather, instead now in a pair of grey sweatpants and a simple t-shirt. That’s the thing about Sehee, though, she has that unnamed sort of... effortless beauty. Even with her stage makeup wiped off, she glows.

“This might be one of the last times I ever work with you, you know? Next year, my parents are making me quit dancing so I can focus on my major. It sucks, yeah, but they’re right. I need to focus if I want to succeed. You know that too, don’t you? The need to succeed?” She takes a breath; laughs bitterly. “Sorry, I’m getting off track... I just — I wanted to tell you this because if I don’t tonight, I might never get the chance again.”

Maybe Soonyoung has dreamed of this moment. He can’t be sure, not yet, so he lets her continue.

“I like you, Soonyoung. I have for a while. But things happened, and you got together with...” her voice trails off. “And you seemed happy, after a while. I thought maybe I could just keep it hidden but, I don’t know, I think I need to tell you, to get closure because I'm not sure if I can go on without at least—”

Choices. Soonyoung — and everyone else in the world — has only made it through life with decisions. He’s made good ones. Bad ones. He’s had regrets and he’s had none. This, though, this choice is intensely apparent.

Apparent in the way he knows it will affect much more than he wishes.

He kisses her.

God, this is what he wanted, right? What he’s wanted for so long. He used to toss and turn at night over the thought of Sehee’s eyes; her smile; her lips.

And on his, they were heaven. Plump and soft just like the romance novels say, moving at the exact pace of his heartbeat.

The hand holding his bouquet drops to his side as the other goes to cup Sehee’s cheek. Faintly, the sound of paper fluttering to the ground reaches his ears, but nothing can distract him from this moment.

Until, of course, it ends.

Sehee pulls away. “We can’t— I don’t—”

Someone clears their throat.

Soonyoung turns, finding Minghao standing just off from the curtains, arms crossed and face contorted in thinly-veiled anger.

And you.

You’re standing next to Minghao, obviously shocked — over being seen or what you’ve seen, Soonyoung doesn’t know. Hands fisted and held close to your chest, your eyes widen as they meet Soonyoung’s.

It’s not so dramatic as the movies.

Soonyoung stares at you, tongue unmoving with nothing to say. You stare back, almost frozen, until Minghao gently takes you by your shoulders, forcing you to turn and leave the way you must’ve come. Nothing happens in the time it takes. Soonyoung simply watches.

He’s never been good at reading lips, but he thinks he knows exactly what Minghao whispers in your ear.

There’s something you should know.

Sehee mutters, “Sorry,” and leaves. She looks guilt-ridden as she does, but even in his half-frozen state, Soonyoung knows all of this is on him.

He stands alone in that corner of the stage, the only noise being the hum of fluorescent lights and the distant sound of the last stragglers in the dressing rooms. His hands clench, and the brown paper of the bouquet crumples. He looks at it then, at the yellow roses and baby’s breath, at the beige note that’s fallen to the floor.

Slowly, he crouches, picking up the note with his thumb and forefinger.

Congratulations Soonyoung!! I know how hard you’ve worked for this night, which is why I ordered these to be delivered. Joshua told me yellow roses represent happiness, or something. Pretty, right? You deserve every happiness, so I decided to start with flowers. Tonight may be over, but who knows, maybe we’ll find happiness in tomorrow, too.

It’s stupid. It’s not a love letter. It’s laced with love, though, and he hates that he recognizes your handwriting.

Time moves heavily as Soonyoung turns to the backstage door. He’s the only one left now, his station in the second boy’s dressing room is messy, unlike everyone else’s. His reflection stares back at him while he sits in front of the mirror, motions halved in speed as he wipes off his eye makeup.

It’s over.

When was the last time he thought about how it would end?

He changes out of costume, arms growing stiff, and stuffs everything in his bag without much care for how. His regular clothes itch; he longs to scratch at his skin, but he doesn’t.

He leaves your bouquet on the counter.

His friends stand in a circle in the lobby, brows furrowed and voices hushed as they discuss... something. Soonyoung has a bad feeling he knows exactly the topic. Minghao isn’t there. Nor are you.

Jihoon isn’t around, either, but Soonyoung remembers he had to leave immediately after the performance. Something about an essay. It doesn’t really matter now, not compared to this.

When he approaches his friends, they quiet down further. Half of them look his way with a frown, while the other half choose to avert their eyes. What do they know?

Seungkwan stands out the most. His arms are crossed, his lips are pressed together in a thin line, and anger radiates from his very being. Of course he’s mad. You’re his friend.

The silence consumes Soonyoung as he nearly shrivels under his friends’ gazes. He must have taken his time, the lobby is empty except for them.

“Where’s Minghao?” he asks.

Seungkwan lurches forward, but both Seungcheol and Wonwoo bring up their arms to hold him back.

“Where’s Minghao? Where’s Minghao?” he seethes. He jabs an accusatory finger in Soonyoung’s face. “You just kissed some girl and broke my best friend’s heart and you’re asking about Minghao?!”

So they don’t know. Not really.

Soonyoung endures the scolding. The looks. The questions. The noise.

No answers are really given.

The great thing about having best friends is that they know not to pamper you when you’ve done wrong. That’s also the worst thing about having best friends.

Seungkwan would go on and on, surely, but soon enough the boys notice how little Soonyoung is reacting — how his face and expression is slack and dull.

Joshua holds up a finger to quiet down the ones still complaining, then gestures towards the front entrance.

“Minghao left with her a while ago.” The look on his face is one of pity. Soonyoung hates it.

He nods; stuffs his hands in his pockets as he turns to the door.

“Wait! I’m not done—!” Seungkwan struggles against Wonwoo and Seungcheol, but he’s no match.

Soonyoung doesn’t stick around long enough to hear what happens next.

He has no sense of what to do when he walks out that door. Go home, maybe.

The night breeze hits him with more force than it should, making his eyes go dry and his lips tremble. Outside, everything is almost too loud. There’s traffic on all sides, surrounding the lot of the theatre; the sound of humming engines and honking horns assaults his senses.

He walks — though it feels like wandering — to the parking lot, where he plans to look around for a bus stop.

You’re there.

A mirage, he thinks at first, but you’re really there, sitting on one of those concrete barriers, legs outstretched and ankles crossed. You have your head lowered as you sit, hands braced on the cold concrete.

His held breath escapes him, and you look up.

“You’re here,” you say. The smile on your lips, ever so slight and ever so bitter, causes a ringing in his ears. “I almost thought you forgot about me.”

“I...”

“It’s a lie, right?” Your eyes glisten, but no tears fall. “You wouldn’t— I’m not— I’m not that naive, am I?”

Soonyoung’s lips part, but nothing moves past them. His hands itch to leave his pockets, but with nothing to reach for, they stay still.

“...I see.”

You drop your head again, bringing your hands together to fiddle with your fingernails. He hears your breath, shaky as it is, and his lungs constrict.

“God, it felt so real. I thought— I guess I don’t know what I thought, huh?” A shiver runs through you. “Was any of it real?” you ask the ground.

Soonyoung longs to answer. That’s the thing, though.

He doesn’t know.

Can any of it be real?

You laugh. Before, your laugh was spring strawberries; summer warblers; winter snowdrops. Now, your dry laughter echoes in Soonyoung’s mind like a pebble in a failed attempt of skipping stones.

“Guess not.”

You hop off the concrete barrier, wiping off your pants of dust and dirt. Still, you don’t meet his eyes.

Soonyoung’s heart beats in a way he knows isn’t natural. Guilt seeps through every orifice. “You’re not... you’re not yelling at me. You’re not crying — you’re not angry,” he stumbles through. “Why?”

It’s then that when you meet his eyes, he notices the dried tracks lining your cheeks. You have been crying, just in the time it took for him to come across you.

“I’m just disappointed in myself, Soonyoung,” you say. “I’m the one who fell for it so easily. I’m the one that was tricked. I’m the one who—” a breath “—who loved someone that didn’t love me back.” You step closer, arms limp at your side. “Once I get home, sure, I’ll cry my eyes out. Is that what you want to hear? I’ll curse myself for being so... so stupid.”

“It’s not your fault—”

“No, it’s not. This is not my fault. All I did was believe the words you said to me. All I did was hand myself to you on a silver platter.” Unshed tears brim at your eyelids, but it seems you refuse to let them fall. “But you know the worst part, Soonyoung?”

Everything?

“The worst part is I can’t yell at you. I’m not angry because I fell in love with someone who doesn’t love me back and it hurts and I can’t bring myself to hate you despite being told you’ve never thought about me the way I think about you.”

A breathy gasp escapes you, and you turn on a dime, the sight of your back an icy reminder to Soonyoung of what he’s yet to learn. You take a deep breath to gather yourself, shoulders rising and falling.

“I’ll be going now. I’ve got a lot to think about.”

Soonyoung doesn’t move from his spot when you walk away, or when you get into Minghao’s car, which pulls away after a moment of sitting there in its parking spot. His feet are stuck in stiff mud, unable to shift, even.

Perhaps he stands there for too long. It’s not until he’s staring down the front of his apartment that he realizes one of his friends must have dropped him off.

•

He hasn’t heard from you in a few days. He hasn’t heard from anyone in just as long.

Jihoon already knew (not everything, but enough) by the time Soonyoung rolled out of bed the day after. He hasn’t said anything about it, but Soonyoung can tell this silence isn’t the same as usual. They rarely eat meals together anymore. Last movie night, Jihoon didn’t even pretend to be busy, instead saying he simply wasn’t in the mood.

Seungkwan hasn’t left your side ever since... that happened. If Soonyoung happens to see you on campus, which is almost never, he backs out of approaching you because of the sheer force that is Seungkwan’s glare. Besides, he wouldn’t know what to say even if he did find the courage to face you.

Classes go by in blurs. Not quickly, like scenery past a car window, but so slow that once Soonyoung leaves, he remembers nothing but hours upon hours of staring at his empty notebook, even if the lecture was only fifty minutes long. Days are kind of like that too.

•

Sehee apologizes. She shouldn’t, but she does.

Soonyoung didn’t really hate what he did at first. He liked her, after all.

But when Sehee chokes on her own words, pleading to whoever will listen that she’s not that kind of girl, Soonyoung regrets kissing her more than he ever wanted to kiss her in the first place.

•

please let me explain

I’m sorry

it’s been a while, but still

I’m sorry

[🍥] Explain what?

[🍥] ...

[🍥] Soonyoung?

sorry I just

I wasn’t expecting you to answer

[🍥] Maybe I shouldn’t have

wait

I’m sorry

[🍥] So I’ve heard

I just want you to know why what happened, happened

[🍥] But I already know why

it’s not that simple

[🍥] You lied because you suck at lying. Because you knew Sehee was there that night and panicked. I was just collateral damage

[🍥] ...

[🍥] No answer, huh?

[🍥] So it really is that simple

please wait

I’m just trying to figure myself out

[🍥] Let me help you

[🍥] You want my forgiveness because you feel guilty. Maybe you don’t know it yet, but you want me to say I forgive you just so you won’t have to carry this around for the rest of your life

[🍥] I know this isn’t some romcom. I know you’re not here to get me back

[🍥] So just let it go

[🍥] Let’s just forget about this. About what happened

what if I can’t

[🍥] I don’t know

[🍥] Figure it out, I guess

[🍥] But do it on your own

•

Soonyoung doesn’t measure his time anymore.

He wakes up. He eats. He goes to class. He skips lunch. He goes home. He eats. He falls asleep.

When was the last time he went out with someone? When was the last time he had a real conversation?

He doesn’t know.

•

[Minghao] You should tell everyone else

why

[Minghao] Would you rather they think you’re a cheater or just an idiot?

I don’t know

[Minghao] I think they deserve an explanation

[Minghao] Want me to do it for you?

does it even matter anymore

[Minghao] It’s your choice

[Minghao] You just have to make it

then tell them

I don’t care

[Minghao] Are you sure?

tell them

•

These days, Soonyoung stays late at the studio. No one really practices there anymore, not since the showcase finished and finals have rolled around. Actually, Soonyoung should be studying too, but he can’t find the motivation. He thinks it might be the guilt.

You were right. He doesn’t want to carry this around.

The thing is, despite spending entire evenings in the studio, he can’t remember anything as he walks home. It must be hours spent in there, and yet, when he walks out, he can’t recall a thing. Like he was never there at all.

Where does the time go?

With his luck, the elevator is broken when he returns to the apartment building, so he has to take the stairs. Normally that wouldn’t be a big deal, but after hours of mindless, sloppy dancing, he’s much too tired. He fumbles with his keys when he tries to open the door, and he rests his forehead on the cool wood for a moment, sighing before he tries again.

The door creaks open. Though it’s late, the lights are still on, which Soonyoung frowns at when he realizes. Lately, Jihoon is never up when Soonyoung comes home. But there he is, sitting at the table right next to the kitchen with his eyes on his hands and his feet tucked under the chair.

Soonyoung freezes after shutting the door behind him, not wholly sure what to make of the scene before him.

After a moment of silence, Jihoon looks up from his fingers and meets Soonyoung’s gaze.

“Minghao called me today,” he says.

Soonyoung gulps, but doesn’t respond — doesn’t know how to.

“I didn’t want to believe it at first, you know.” His voice is slow, croaky; tired. “But it sort of makes sense, doesn’t it. I don’t know how I didn’t see it from the start.”

Slowly, Soonyoung slips off his shoes and steps further into the apartment. “So now you know. I’m really not in the mood for a lecture right now.”

“I just have a question.”

Soonyoung pauses, halfway through the apartment and only a few meters from his bedroom door. He turns to face Jihoon, sighing through his nose and digging his palm into his eye sockets. “Fine,” he concedes. “What?”

“If you never loved — never liked her, why are you acting like this now?”

“Acting like what?”

“Like a dead man walking.”

Soonyoung scoffs, a dry, empty sound as he looks away for a moment before meeting Jihoon’s gaze again. “You’re kidding, right?” he asks. “I lied to someone for months. I pretended to love someone I didn’t. I used her because of my own stupidity and pride, and then I used Sehee, too—” Pausing, he closes his eyes; takes a breath. “Isn’t it obvious? It’s guilt. I feel guilty for... for everything.”

“That’s the only reason?”

“Excuse me?”

Jihoon rhythmically taps the pads of his fingers on the table. It’s not loud enough to be heard, but Soonyoung’s eyes train to the sight. “It’s only the guilt?”

“What else would it be?”

This time, it’s Jihoon who sighs. He looks at his hands again for a second. “Do me a favour,” he says without looking up.

“Look, I already—”

“Just do what I say.”

Soonyoung groans, but he knows he can’t argue with Jihoon and win — not now at least. He rubs his eyes, shoulders rising and falling as he takes in a deep breath. Mumbling under his breath, he says, “Fine.”

Jihoon stands from his chair, and in such stagnant silence, the sound of the legs squeaking on the floor is profound. He points to the middle of the apartment, the large bit of floor-space that’s too big to be considered part of the kitchen but too small to house any furniture.

“Stand right there.”

“...What?”

Without answering, Jihoon simply points at the floor again, and Soonyoung can only groan in defiance as he moves to stand in that spot. Grabbing a throw pillow from the couch, Jihoon steps a few feet away, facing Soonyoung with the pillow held in one hand at his side. He seems to consider something for a moment.

Soonyoung has never been unable to read Jihoon this much, so he asks, “What is this all about—”

Jihoon screams. Not a high-pitched screech, but a guttural battle cry, and Soonyoung’s eyes widen. Faster than he can comprehend, Jihoon runs towards him and tackles him to the ground. Soonyoung’s legs crumble as he falls, and he feels the throw pillow pressing onto his face.

This is it, he thinks. This is how he dies.

“Jihoon!” he cries, but his protest is muffled by the pillow. “What the fuck are you—!”

“You fucking idiot! You don’t know shit!”

“I know that!” Soonyoung thrashes to get the pillow off, but Jihoon is way stronger than he looks.

“You miss her you fucking buffoon! You’re all in your doom and gloom because you had a good thing going and had to go fuck it up!”

“I don’t!”

“Don’t try to argue with me, fucker, I know you better than anyone. Now scream!”

The pillows squishes further down, and while Soonyoung can still breathe, it’s far from comfortable. He continues to struggle even though he knows it’s useless.

“What?!”

“Scream into the pillow! You’re mad at yourself and you should be! Let it all out!”

“I—”

“Scream!”

And he does. He lets out a loud bellow that’s nothing but sound roaring from his lungs. He does it mostly to appease Jihoon — so that maybe he’ll finally get off.

But it feels good.

No, not good, really. It feels awful. Everything feels awful. Yet, something about screaming makes him want to do it again. He yells once more into the pillow, the sound muffled in the fabric and yet intensely remarkable. He screams and he screams and he screams until he can’t scream anymore and his voice is raw and there’s no more sound aside from the fractured gasps of his sobs. Tears soak into rough fabric, and he doesn’t even notice that Jihoon isn’t holding the pillow anymore — he’s pressing it to his face himself. His body shakes under Jihoon. Soonyoung feels pathetic, but he can’t stop.

He tries again to scream into the pillow, but his voice cracks and all he knows is to cry.

This is what it’s like.

Quietly, Jihoon maneuvers himself so he sits by Soonyoung’s head. He slowly lifts a corner of the pillow and peeks at Soonyoung’s red face. “So,” he whispers, voice soft and full of care. “What are you going to do now?”

Soonyoung wraps his arms around the pillow, hiding his face again.

“I don’t know,” he says. He’s never felt less sure of anything. “I don’t know.”

•

That night, Soonyoung cleans his room. He doesn’t reorganize or anything, just picks discarded clothes up off the ground and throws them in a hamper, spreads his blankets so his bed actually looks bed-like, and takes his overflowing garbage bin out to the door, where he’ll take it out tomorrow morning. As he stretches his arm between his bed and the wall, his fingers close around the sweater he’s trying to reach and... something else. When he brings his hand back up, a small tiger plush stares back at him.

Go get ‘em, tiger!

He stares at the words for a moment, sitting up on his bed and leaning his back against the wall. The plush feels frail in his hands, almost like the velvet heart held in the tiger’s paws could crumble at any moment. Maybe it will.

Soonyoung settles down above the covers that night, and the tiger sits on his other pillow.

The one that still smells like you.

•

He cries. (For the second time since you left.)

•

After everything that’s happened, one would think it would take a miracle to fix what’s been broken. Soonyoung thinks it will take more than that, but still; he’s no miracle worker. He thinks it will take magic to just see you again.

Turns out, it takes a coffee.

Jihoon forces Soonyoung to join him in visiting one of the campus cafes. He doesn’t think about it too much, just believes Jihoon’s trying to keep him alive with a little kick of caffeine. That thought is pushed away when Jihoon blocks him from sitting at the little table, pointing instead across the space to the student printing center.

You’re talking to a customer at the front counter, forearms rested on the white faux marble. A smile is on your lips as you say whatever it is you’re saying to the girl, and Soonyoung finds it almost impossible to tear his eyes away. But he does. He scans the rest of the building for a second. Seungkwan is nowhere to be seen, and neither is Minghao.

He turns to Jihoon, a question on the tip of his tongue.

“She told the bodyguards to back off,” Jihoon explains without needing to be asked. “It’s been a few days.” He nods his chin towards you. “Go on. Talk to her.”

Soonyoung shakes his head, gulping down the words he can’t yet think of. “I don’t... I’m not... ready.”

“If you back out now, you’re going to keep backing out until it’s too late.”

Jihoon’s eyes blaze with an unfitting determination for such a setting. He looks stupid, like some self-made, all-knowing relationship guru who likes the coke he’s gripping too much. Still, he’s right.

Soonyoung licks his dry lips and looks at you again. You’ve sat down, relaxed after having helped that customer and now conversing with one of the other students working there. He misses the way you looked when you were happy — when you were happy with him.

What will it take to see that again?

What will it take to hold you again?

His feet move before his doubts can stop him, and the scene feels awfully familiar. This time though, Soonyoung can’t help but feel like the bad guy.

You don’t notice him until he’s right in front of you, and he doesn’t know what hurts more: the immediate frown, or the fake smile you use to cover it up.

“Hi, what can I do for you today?”

If Soonyoung had to define heartache, he might use this moment. Feigning to forget rather than acknowledging the past... it’s effective, but it hurts.

“Can...” He hesitates and curses himself for it. “Can we talk?”

“About printing, yes. About anything else? I really would rather we didn’t,” you say under your breath. It’s hushed, and you don’t shy away when Soonyoung leans closer to hear. That has to mean something, doesn’t it?

“But there’s something I need to say.”

“I don’t think I want to hear anymore apologies, Soonyoung.”

“It’s not that,” he argues.

Your eyebrows scrunch together. “It’s not an apology?”

“No— I mean, well, yes I want to apologize. I don’t think I’ll ever stop apologizing, but— but that’s not what I—”

“Soonyoung.”

He stops at your word, knowing that speaking will only get him further into trouble. Around you, his words keep failing. Instead, he meets your eyes, which under more inspection, seem hardened.

Have eyes ever looked so hardened when brimmed with tears?

“I don’t know if you know this, but seeing you makes me hate myself.” By now, your coworker has walked to the back, probably to respect your privacy. Your voice almost cracks. “I’ve felt worthless before, but Soonyoung, do you even realize what that — what you did to me?”

He barely breathes before saying, “What if I... what if I said I fell in love with you? Somewhere along the way?” A pause. Your eyes waver, but steady themselves. “What if I said I love you?”

“Soonyoung,” you say after a second.

“Yes?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

•

[🍥] Give me a reason to give you a chance

this is real right?

[🍥] It’s not a dream if that’s what you’re asking

all of a sudden??

[🍥] Minghao and Jihoon said I should

[🍥] And I think I should too

[🍥] But it’s hard

[🍥] What you said yesterday... I don’t know if I can believe it just yet

will you meet me?

I want to see you

[🍥] Can you give me some time?

yes

all the time you need

but will you?

will you meet me?

[🍥] I don’t want to

[🍥] But then again, I do

[🍥] Just give me some time

•

A strange thing, time. It passes by much too quickly when you want it to last, and it drags on when all you want is to be there. There; right then; right now.

Soonyoung stays up late turning on and off his phone, waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting.

It’s only been two days.

Jihoon thinks he’s crazy, though he hasn’t said it out loud — Soonyoung can tell.

He also thinks he might be a little crazy, but that’s okay. If it means he’ll get the chance to make it up to you... maybe he’s fine with being crazy.

At some point, Jihoon barges into his room and takes away Soonyoung’s phone, snatching it straight out of his hands like the little thief he is. He keeps it out of reach despite being shorter, preaching bullshit like, “You need to calm down and act like a normal person!”

Fine, whatever.

Soonyoung goes out for some air. And instant ramen.

There’s a twenty-four hour convenience store right on the edge of campus, manned by a single tired university student that everyone is aware of, yet no one really seems to know his name. It’s one of those spots where time doesn’t exist; maybe names don’t, either.

Compared to the blackness of night, the blanch white convenience store sticks out like a sore thumb, especially with all the bright posters and fluorescent tube-lights. Soonyoung feels just as out of place with no people around just outside the store, but really, it’s to be expected at a time like two in the morning.

He’s right at the door when it chimes and slides open. And so are you.

Both of you freeze where you are, you in the doorway and he just in front. His jaw slacks slightly as he takes you in.

You’re in casual clothes again, a thick sweater and presumably pyjama pants. This version of you comes with good memories — for some reason he likes it more than he cares to admit. Maybe he liked that you could share a more vulnerable side to him, and he to you in return. Although, you’ve shown this side to even the unnamed convenience store guy.

It’s your voice that breaks him from his reverie.

“Soonyoung,” you say, and it’s softer than before. Maybe your voice is lighter from the fact that it’s two in the morning, maybe just because you’re tired, but a small part of Soonyoung wishes that it’s something else — that you sound softer because you’ve missed him too.

He hopes it isn’t just hope.

He says your name, the sound beautiful and battered on his tongue. A small smile passes your lips, so fast that he almost misses it, but he doesn’t. That’s one thing he knows about you: how much you care. Even if someone hurts you, you always take the time to hear them out. You give them chances. Soonyoung should thank his lucky stars that you’ve done the same for him.

“Hi.”

You smile again, and it reaches your eyes, however sad.

“Is it time?” he asks.

“It can be.” The plastic bag in your hand crinkles as you sway it back and forth. “Do you want it to be?”

“Yeah.” His voice comes out like a breath. “Please.”

“Then that’s what we’ll make it.”

You gesture to the ground, where the curb meets the asphalt, but Soonyoung is still a little shocked that he’s even met you here in the first place, so he watches, dazed, as you sit down on the curb before joining in. He stays silent as you pull out an ice cream cup and hand it to him. He stays silent as you procure a second one and peel open the plastic lid, digging into it with the wooden stick spoon-wannabe that comes with the package. He stays silent as you look at him, the wooden stick hanging from your mouth.

“So,” you say, scraping the side of the paper cup. Meeting his eyes, you sport a sly smile. “I hear you’re in love with me.”

The ice cream stays unopened in his hands. He finds it so easy to smile back.

“Yeah. I think I am.”

“You think you are?”

“I’ve never loved someone like this before,” he tries to explain, though the words are slow to his tongue. “I can only think.”

“I guess so.”

“But—” he looks at his fingers, fiddling with the plastic lid of the cup, and a small laugh escapes “—I’m thinking really, really hard.”

You laugh too; his heart blooms.

“Is that so?” you tease, smiling around the wooden spoon. “It’s gonna take more than that.”

“I think I can do it.”

“You think?”

“I think really hard.”

Soonyoung might be in love with every part of you, even if he never realized. Your laugh, your smile, your tells, your habits. He wishes he knew sooner, that this laugh could’ve been his forever long before now.

You scrape the last drops of ice cream out of the paper cup and leave the stick in your mouth, a bit chewed up. Your shoes tap against the asphalt, the rhythm something that draws both his and your eyes.

“You know...” you say, turning your head to meet his gaze once more. “You know you hurt me, right? You know this won’t be easy?”

“None of what we had was easy.”

A scoff runs past your lips. You bump your shoulder against his. “Speak for yourself. I fell hard and fast for you, asshole.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. I know.” You take the still unopened ice cream from his hands and stuff it right back in the bag it came from. “Say it again, though.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hmmm... maybe it’ll take a few more times.”

“I’m—”

“But not tonight,” you say. “Tonight...”

Your hand beside him closes the distance, grazing over his and pulling it over to your lap.

“...just hold me?”

And he does.

Bonus (gn) epilogue: Fluff and Context Bonus (gn) blurbs: [a fate of my choosing][pick a struggle]

853 notes · View notes