#Yes I'm talking about the Spotify wrapped | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fairyysoup · 1 year ago

Text

i can see you

♫︎ i can see you - taylor swift ♫︎

pairing(s): steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: The secret history of your long and arduous relationship with Steve Harrington.

aka: the 5 times you pined over each other, and the time you actually did something about it

words: 17.6k (we're NOT gonna talk about it lol)

cw: explicit, smut, piv sex, flirting, making out, heavy petting, slight exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), fingering, marking, biting, steve harrington has a big dick, themes of infidelity/cheating (sort of), skipping out on dates, bad dates, steve steal-your-girl harrington, almost-kisses, jealous!steve, jealous!reader, possessive behavior, smoking, alcohol consumption, allusions to marriage but it's never actually mentioned, canon compliant, reader and steve are the same age, 5+1 things, songfic, angst, fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, pining, mutual crush, slow burn one shot, mild twist ending, begins in season two (1984) and ends in the 90s, high school, scoops ahoy era, family video era, waiter!steve, steve harrington (the eras tour), vignette, one instance of billy hargrove slander, original characters created for plot, inspired by i can see you by taylor swift, other taylor song inspo throughout bc i'm insane like miss swift

a/n: hi and welcome to ✨rose's mental breakdown✨ yes this song will be my number one on spotify wrapped bc i listened to it on a loop for five days straight while writing this. idk. anyways this is So Much and i'm tired of looking at it so if there are any mistakes i apologize. anyways whoever can point out the most taylor song references aside from the obvious titular one gets a doubloon

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

You brush past me in the hallway, and you don’t think I can see you, do you? I’ve been watchin’ you for ages, and I spend my time trying not to feel it…

Hawkins High, September 1984

He’s so pretty sometimes that it’s disgusting.

That’s really the only thing you think when you watch Steve Harrington sneak up on his girlfriend, Nancy Wheeler, and swoop her off the ground in front of her locker. From across the hall, your locker hangs open, your body turned halfway toward them so that you can pretend that you’re not staring.

You stare a lot.

It’s not exactly the hair, you think- everyone shits a brick about his hair, for some reason that you don’t understand. Yeah, it’s nice… but you like everything else about him, too. You like how sweet he looks when he laughs. You like the way that he holds himself and the way that he looks when he puts his hands on his hips and stands around like he’s directing the traffic around him. You like how much of a prince charming he is, really. It would surprise you if he doesn’t win prom king at the end of the year. They already call him King Steve, it’s not too far of a stretch.

You close your locker just as Steve kisses Nancy, in front of god and everybody in the C Corridor hallway. Steve’s arms wrap around Nancy’s petite frame and he dips her, like they’re in some sort of George Peck and Audrey Hepburn movie. Not that the place is much of a cinematic setting, though. Down the hall, the science rooms are doing their dissection units, so the whole place smells like formaldehyde and disinfectant, and you sort of feel like curling up into one of those dissection pans and dying, yourself.

That should be me, your brain screams. Me!!

It’s always been like this. You’ve had a crush on Steve since freshman year- the fact that he’s dating Nancy, who’s a year younger than him, doesn’t escape your jealous mind. You’ve been in classes with him for four years, you’ve admired him quietly, you’ve hoped and prayed that he somehow noticed you noticing him.

You don’t think he knows you exist. Four years- and now you’re both seniors, about to graduate, and he still doesn’t notice you. You should really stop caring, or stop trying, or stop… pining. Or something.

You hike your bag up onto your shoulder and juggle your books in your arms. The bell rings, and quite suddenly the entire hallway erupts into pandemonium (predictable, sure, considering everyone loiters around instead of actually getting to class on time). Kids fly around you in all directions to get to their next classroom. Nancy Wheeler ducks away from Steve Harrington, avoiding yet another kiss.

God, you wish you could kiss him.

Someone slams into your shoulder from behind, muscling past you to get to science lab 5, rat central. Your binder slips out of the stack of books in your arms and clatters loudly to the ground, just as someone walks past and kicks it across the floor.

“Fuck,” you spit, chasing after it. The back of your neck feels hot. For the first time in four years, you hope to god that Steve Harrington doesn’t notice you.

You duck around people’s legs, trying to grab at your binder, while not trying to drop any more of the books in your arms. Loose papers are starting to fall out of the binder as it skitters across the floor, and this is becoming more and more of a comedy of errors by the minute.

Your fingers just brush the corner of it before someone kicks it again.

“Do you mind?” you snap as they walk away, not even looking in your direction. Crouched close to the floor, you don’t matter. Maybe you could count that as a blessing, considering you don’t want to be perceived right now.

You finally just throw away all dignity and crawl across the tile floor- disgusting and dirty and covered in sandy grit, as though it hasn’t been cleaned all year- to get to your binder.

And you come face to face with a pair of white Nike’s. Ones that you know way too well, because you’ve stared at them every time they’ve passed you in the hallway.

Nonononono- You clench your jaw and then look up, way up, to find Steve Harrington towering over you.

He looks like he was about to just step around you, but then he notices you gazing up at him from all fours, and his hazel eyes lock on yours. You blink at each other for a second before he flushes, a pink blush breaking out on his cheeks and crawling up his neck, and he looks away quickly, but crouches down to grab your binder before your hand can land on it.

“Sorry,” Steve says quietly, gathering up the couple papers that had started to slide out of the folders inside. You sit back on your heels, your blood rushing in your ears, mortified. His big hands gently poke the papers back into the folder as they should be before he hands it to you. “Looks like you’re gonna be late to class.”

You scoff. “Look who’s talking.”

Steve’s eyes find yours again, and he’s finally so close to you that you can admire the little bit of green in them. You’ve never been close enough to notice before.

He cracks a lopsided smile, one that he uses to charm people, you know- you’ve seen him use it on teachers and cute girls alike. “I’m always late to the party. But I get there, eventually.”

“I hope so.” He cocks his head at you. He doesn’t know the real meaning to your words- or, at least, you don’t think he does.

I hope you don’t stay oblivious forever, Steve Harrington. I hope you get there, eventually.

You take your binder from him, but you pull your eyes away from his a bit later than you properly should. “Thanks, Steve.”

You get up and take off toward your next class, walking quickly so that you don’t come off like you’re lingering too long. But, halfway down the hall, you look over your shoulder at him.

Steve hasn’t moved, still crouched down close to the floor, with his head bent like he’s deep in thought. With his back to you, you can still see the pink flush on the back of his neck, peeking out above his collared shirt.

‘Cause I can see you, waiting down the hall from me, and I can see you up against the wall with me. What would you do? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you…

Hawkins High, April 1985

Prom season sucks. Always has, and always will.

Maybe it was your fault for hoping that Logan Sawyer, popular prick extraordinaire, was serious about wanting to take you to prom. He seemed serious enough, stopping by your locker during passing period and leaning over you as he asked you, his mega-watt smile making you blush. You’d counted yourself lucky- you didn’t think anyone was going to ask you, and people aren’t allowed to go to prom stag.

It took Logan two weeks to find a prettier girl to go with, though. You don’t know why it hurts so much. Maybe it’s because you wanted to believe that you were someone’s first choice, but it never quite seems to turn out that way.

You wipe your tears in the mirror, scowling at your puffy, bloodshot eyes. The bathroom next to the girls’ locker room in the sports wing is completely deserted at this time- the boys’ gym class is in session now, and you’re cutting into your lunch time, but you really don’t want to have to go and cry at a lunch table, in front of a bunch of your bitchy peers, who will inevitably make fun of you for it.

Sniffling, but slightly more composed, you head out of the bathroom. The sports wing is ridiculously bigger than any other wing of the school (typical of American public schools, to prioritize sports over every other department). The wing boasts weight training rooms, dance rooms, three separate gymnasiums, and a door directly to the football field, with the locker rooms on the farthest end to allow for easy access to the field. Connecting all of these rooms is the longest corridor in the building, which seems to run for half a fucking mile.

You’ll have to walk that half mile, because in order to get to the cafeteria, you’re gonna have to traverse the entire building. You might not get to eat much today, but it was a sacrifice you were willing to make. Maybe Mrs. Marshall will be kind enough to let you snack on a granola bar in your next class period.

Halfway down the long hallway, you feel the angry sting of tears behind your eyes again, and your face screws up in frustration. You stop, turning halfway back toward the girls’ bathroom, wondering if you should just go back in and allow yourself to cry some more.

Suck it up, you think to yourself, smacking at your tear stained cheeks. He’s not the guy you really want to ask you to prom, anyways.

You press your fingertips into your eyes to relieve the sting of tears, taking a deep breath. Being in high school is driving you crazy. At this point in the year, the teachers have given up teaching, the students have given up learning, and you’re basically just biding your time in a glorified babysitting service until you can inevitably grab your diploma and get out of here. You can’t wait for that time to arrive.

A door opens further down the hallway, in the direction of the cafeteria. You wipe your nose once and keep moving in the direction you were going, not wanting to draw attention to yourself, standing in the middle of the hallway having a breakdown.

Moving forwards, you keep your eyes on the ground. Once you hear the door that had been opened slam shut again, you figure that whoever it was has moved on down the hallway, and you lift your eyes again.

They have not, in fact, moved on. And you suddenly have the urge to turn and fucking run back into the girls’ bathroom, because Steve Harrington is bent over at the drinking fountain, directly outside the boys’ weight room.

What the fuck, what the fuck. You suck on your teeth, trying not to falter in your stride. Maybe he hasn’t seen you, and you can just pass him up. It’s fine, he hasn’t seen you crying.

Your mind backtracks to the beginning of the year, you fumbling your binder all the way across the hallway and ending up right in front of him, crawling toward him. Looking up at him and probably, most definitely, making him really uncomfortable.

You have English class together, where you sit at the desk closest to the door. He comes in late almost every day, so he passes by you every time. Some days he looks at your desk. On good days, he meets your eye. But he hasn’t spoken to you since that day in September, and you really shouldn’t hold out hope that he will.

You definitely don’t want him to notice you when you’ve been crying, your face is a mess, your hair is limp and you look bedraggled. You just want to fade into the background of your next class with whatever snack you can get from the cafeteria snuck into your bag, so you can stress eat it without any guff from a teacher (like you aren’t 18 and capable of deciding when you are and aren’t allowed to eat).

You keep your eyes down. If you don’t look at him, he doesn’t exist.

Except, Steve Harrington always exists, in the back of your mind, and in your periphery. He is impossible not to notice, as per usual. He really just draws the eye like a magnet. Try as you might, your eyes keep flicking up to take stock of him.

He’s wearing a uniform gray P.E. shirt and gym shorts that don’t leave a lot to the imagination, and you fixate on his thighs more than you should. He has sweat dripping down his neck, wetting his hair on the sides of his face and the seam of his shirt. It shouldn’t be attractive. He shouldn’t be attractive. With his face a mess. And his hair limp, and looking bedraggled. Truly, you make a priceless pair, being the only two people in the hallway.

We’re perfect for each other, a voice says in your head. And you manage, for the first time in an hour, to crack a smile down at your shoes.

He finishes getting his drink at the fountain, and you figure that he’ll just go back into the weight room and not see you. But, of course, luck is not on your side.

Steve Harrington looks at you. And you look away, quickly, acting like you hadn’t been staring at him. And in your periphery, again, you see him stretch his arms over his head, and then turn and lean against the cinderblock wall beside the door to the weight room, with his hands on his knees as though he’s catching his breath.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

He does it so casually, and with the way he’s sweating and his face is flushed, you’re sure that he probably does just want to take a break before going in and lifting more weights. But something in the back of your mind says that the maneuver was too purposeful, immediately after he laid eyes on you.

It could just be wishful thinking on your part. You heard through the grapevine that Steve and Nancy Wheeler broke up in a nasty way just before winter break, and it doesn’t seem like he’s been interested in anyone since. He hasn’t dated anyone, hasn’t flirted with any girls or showed up at any parties. Nancy must have really broken his heart.

You know too well what that feels like, right now.

Nearing where he leans against the wall, you keep your head down and you plan on just passing by without any acknowledgement from him, same as it ever was. If he’s still carrying a torch for Nancy, you’re sure that he doesn’t want anything to do with you. You’ve nearly convinced yourself of it.

But then you hear your name called quietly, and it nearly makes you jump. You look over at him, thinking you’re just hearing things, but you look directly into a pair of hazel eyes again, and you feel yourself rocketing back in time to September.

You didn’t even think he knew your name.

You slow to a stop. It would be rude not to stop, right? “Uh… hi, Steve. You good?”

Steve Harrington looks you up and down, while he leans against the wall and breathes a bit heavily, like he’s out of breath. He peers at you through long eyelashes, looking impossibly inviting despite everything; the setting, your appearances, the way that you feel like dissolving into a puddle right in front of him. “Yeah, great. You?”

He’s scrutinizing your face now. You shrug, since he’s already seen you, and there’s no way to pretend you weren’t crying thirty seconds ago. “I’m fine. Just being dramatic, don’t worry about me.”

“When people say not to worry about them, it usually means that you should,” Steve muses. He looks coy, like he’s speaking from experience.

You sigh, stepping forward to get your own drink from the drinking fountain. “Logan Sawyer called off our date for prom.”

“Oh.” Steve pauses for a few seconds, watching as you bend down and take your drink, more silent than he usually is. “I mean… that really sucks. I’m sorry. But… Logan Sawyer?”

“Yeah.” You wipe your mouth, and then wet the ends of your fingers and use the cool water to rub at your stinging eyes again. When you’re done, you lean up against the wall beside him, letting your back settle into the cinderblock.

“The guy’s a fucking douche.”

“Tell me about it.”

“No, I mean it, I think it’s a good thing you’re not going to prom with him. He’s really shitty to girls.” You look up at Steve, who’s watching you with his arms crossed, with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen him wear. “I mean, the only guy worse than Logan is probably… I dunno…”

“Billy Hargrove?”

Steve laughs. Actually laughs. You’ve wanted to make him laugh like that for four years. His cheeks turn crimson and he grins down at his shoes, snickering like there’s way more to the joke he’s laughing at than you even know about. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s gotta be the worst.”

You chuckle, albeit with a sadder tone than he has. “Well, I’m not going to prom with either of them. So, I can count my blessings. I guess.”

Steve frowns, and he looks like he’s going to say something else, but you’re already turning away, not wanting to continue the depressing conversation about your lack of dates. Especially not from the one guy who you desperately want to go on a date with.

You get a few steps away before he takes a step after you, saying, “Wait. You, uh-”

You stop, and look back at him. He looks dumbfounded, his arm outstretched like he was going to try to grab you if you didn’t listen to him. When you frown, he steps back against the wall, bringing his hand up to run through his hair.

Oh . That’s a nervous tick. You know it, because you’ve watched him do it more than once in English, in front of the class during a presentation.

Steve looks down at his shoes, his brow scrunched in thought. He looks like he’s really trying to find the right words to say. In your head, a hopeful part of you imagines what those words could be. ‘Will you go to prom with me?’

Finally, he looks up at you resolutely. “You’ll find someone to take you to prom. I’m sure of it.” He nods a little, like he’s reassuring himself that he said the right thing.

You can’t help the smile that springs onto your face. It’s incredulous, of course, but he can’t know that. Keep trying, baby. You’ll get there, eventually.

“Thanks, Steve.” It’s the second time you thank him in the course of the year.

But what would you do if I went to touch you now? What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a sound?

Prom Night, May 1985

The dress you’re wearing is sleek and a lot simpler than some of the more popular styles on the dance floor, but you like it more than you care to admit. You’d just grabbed it off the rack at Macy’s, and beyond that you didn’t want to go all-out for prom. It turns out that your lab partner, Gavin Connelly, needed a date, too. So, you’re here with him, because you knew that if you missed prom, you would probably regret it.

Except, well.

Gavin, stoned out of his fucking mind, is sitting at one of the tables, nursing a cup of punch, looking like he’s two seconds from falling asleep. You’ve taken to making the rounds and saying hi to anyone you can call a ‘friend,’ because you’re tired of just loitering next to him. Something tells you he didn’t want to even be here.

The speakers are playing ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart,’ and couples are swaying on the dance floor in a Bonnie Tyler-induced haze. At a loss for people to bother, you wander back over to your date to find his head plastered to the white table cloth.

You glance to the guy sitting next to him, a kid with glasses who you don’t recognize but who seems to know your date, because he’s just patting Gavin’s back. “Is he okay?”

“Oh, no, he’s dying.” The kid shoots you a sarcastic smile.

You nod, pressing your tongue hard to the roof of your mouth. “Well, if he wakes up, tell him I’m getting some air.”

Fuck this. Fuck prom. Fuck high school boys.

Your heels, which are killing your feet already, click loudly on the tile hallway floor as you exit the gym. The table where you can check your bag and coat are located at the other end of the hall, where everyone is supposed to enter through the door to the football field.

You can hear voices from the far end of the hall, and Bonnie Tyler’s voice fading out the further you get from the gym. You might never be able to hear that song again without thinking of your ruined slow dance opportunity.

As you pass by, someone coughs off to the left and you turn your head to see Steve Harrington, black tie and all, loitering in the shadows. You stop a few feet from him and squint into the dark.

You can’t believe it. He always seems to show up at the worst times. “What are you doing, skulking around?”

“I’m not sulking.”

You snort, stepping into the shadows with him. “No, skulk- like, sneaking around?”

“Well, I didn’t mean to sneak-” he looks over his shoulder at the gym entrance. “I’m just getting some air.”

“Funny,” you murmur. “I was just about to do the same thing.”

He eyes you, a lot like he did a few weeks ago in this same hallway, further up toward the other end of it. He takes in your hair, styled painstakingly to ‘perfection,’ or as close as you could approximate it, and your off-the-rack department store dress. You suddenly feel like you aren’t as pretty as you thought you were at the beginning of the night.

But then he meets your eye, and all those insecurities fade into the back of your mind. He’s smiling at you, and that can only be a good thing.

“So, uh…” Steve leans back against the wall, his hands in his pockets, “You found someone to take you?”

You press your lips into a tight line. You don’t really want to think about your date right now, but- “Gavin Connelly.”

“Who?”

You laugh, kicking the heel of your shoe against the ground with a soft clack. “Yeah. God, I wish I didn’t know him right now.”

“Why, what’d he do?” Steve sounds perturbed. You look up to find him scowling already.

“Oh, he just ate a pot brownie before he picked me up and passed out at one of the tables.” You finish with a tired giggle, shrugging at Steve as he peers at you with an annoyed expression. “Who did you bring?”

“Kelly Palmer.”

You know Kelly. She doesn’t say much, but she’s gotten a scholarship to a big art school. “Do you like her?”

“Yeah, she’s nice,” he says mildly. Unconvincingly.

You can understand the subtext. She’s not Nancy. When you look at his face, he seems tortured in the low light coming from down the hall.

“Guess I’m oh-for-two,” Steve adds after a pause. “Last year’s prom, Nance and I didn’t have such a good time, either.”

You nod. It seems like there’s more he wants to say, but he doesn’t. “I’m sorry,” you offer. You don’t know the ins-and-outs of Steve and Nancy’s relationship, aside from watching them suck face in the hallway five paces from you for a year and a half. “Prom sucks. High school sucks. These can’t be the best years of our lives, trust me.”

“Yeah, I hope not.”

“I just can’t wait to get out of here, you know,” you grumble, allowing your sour mood to come out a little more than normal. It seems like Steve is just really good at getting you to let your guard down. “I’m planning to go to Chicago for college. This is all just… you know, it’s just the starting point. What about you, any big plans?”

“Dunno. I didn’t get accepted to any schools, so I’ll just be getting a job here in town until something better comes along.” Steve shifts, his heel hitting the wall behind him. He looks disappointed when he says, “I think I made too many mistakes.”

You frown, chewing on your lip. “What do you mean?”

He gives you a heavy look, like he’s gearing up to say something important, something game changing- and then his gaze softens.

“You’ve got an eyelash.” He gestures to his own eye, like it’ll make you understand exactly where the loose one is on your face.

“Oh.” You falter, lifting your manicured hands and wiping at your undereyes. “Did I get it?”

“No, uh- here, I can-” Steve tentatively reaches forward, and you step toward him to let him touch your face.

Steve Harrington is touching your face.

His fingertip brushes your cheekbone, so featherlight you would barely feel it if you weren’t hyper aware of everything that he said or did. His touch glides across your cheek and toward your temple, and then he seems to keep it there, his hand hovering just over your skin.

Reflexively, your hand comes up to rest on his shoulder. You’re inches from Steve’s face, your eyes falling to his lips.

You could kiss him. You could live your fantasy, right now.

Steve’s gaze lingers on your face for a moment, and then he says, “You’re so beautiful.”

Your heart lurches in your chest. He doesn’t say that you look beautiful. He doesn’t say it conditionally, like it’s just for tonight. You are beautiful. Even when you’re crawling on all fours after your binder. Even when you’re crying, and your hair is limp, and you look bedraggled.

“Steve…” you whisper, inching closer to him.

“STEVE??!”

You jump away from him like he’s burned you, and peek around the hall corner to see Kelly Palmer standing outside the gym looking up and down the hall, searching for him. She looks lost, and sad, like he must have ditched.

She looks an awful lot like you just did, coming out of that gym.

You feel Steve’s hand where it had fallen to your wrist, dragging your attention gently back to him. You take his hand and squeeze it once, giving him a tight smile.

“You brought her here for a good time,” you say with your bravest smile. “Just don’t pass out at one of the tables on her, okay?”

Don’t be a douche. Don’t be like Logan Sawyer.

Steve swallows, and gives you a short nod. You think he finally got there.

You give a soft pat to the lapel of his suit jacket. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

He touches your arm one final time before he slips around the corner, just as Kelly turns to go back into the gym. You watch him walk away, and you think to yourself, That’s the last time I chase after Steve Harrington.

Wherever there is, it’s not with you.

Steve loops his arms around Kelly’s waist and lifts her, earning a thrilled squeal as the silver taffeta of her dress glints blue in the light from the gym. You wait until they’ve disappeared back into it before you turn and high-tail it toward the coat check table.

And we kept everything professional, but something’s changed, it’s something I like. They keep watchful eyes on us, so it’s best if we move fast and keep quiet…

Starcourt Mall, June 1985

“Come on, it’s ridiculously hot outside,” your best friend, Shelly, groans as she pulls you along by the wrist. “I can’t believe they only have one ice cream place here.”

“I’m sure they have slushies at the-”

“Ice. Cream.” You know better than to argue with her.

Scoops Ahoy has a novelty nautical theme that makes you want to both laugh and break down in tears when you see it. The PA is playing a cutesy rendition of Drunken Sailor on accordion, and you think that if you keep looking at the striped wallpaper behind the counter, you might get literally seasick. In the mall. In landlocked Indiana.

Or… is it landlocked if it fronts Lake Michigan? It doesn’t matter. You’ll be in Chicago in two days, anyways.

You let Shelly drag you along until you look towards the front counter, and you see something that nearly makes you trip and face plant into Shelly’s fresh perm.

Even Shelly pauses. “Is that who I think it is?”

It’s something about the stupid little sailor’s cap and shorts, and that he’s so, so pretty in it, you think. It’s also something about how you have the perfect vantage point to watch him try and fail to flirt with the girl that approaches the counter to order. You’re enamored with him. There’s no other way to describe it.

You have half a mind to run away, after what you promised yourself on prom night over a month ago. You’d done good, you didn’t search for him in the halls, you ignored him in your last couple of class periods with him. You’d even been in the bathroom when his name was called at graduation.

But, here he is. Steve Harrington, absolutely obliterating his chances of getting a date with the girl ordering a sundae ahead of you.

Honestly, you don’t know what you’re waiting for. Maybe an invitation? A sign from god that today’s the day that you’ll make a move? Or maybe this is just a test of will.

You stop resisting Shelly’s attempts to drag you along, and straighten your spine. You can do this. Four years’ worth of pining won’t make a difference in whether or not you order a strawberry ice cream cone.

He’s even prettier up close, his rosy cheeks framed by sunkissed, wavy hair. When he sees you he stalls, going a bit wide-eyed and then seeming to realize he’s supposed to do his job. He leans heavily against the counter. “Ahoy, ladies! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain, Steve Harrington.”

“Uh-huh.” You stare at each other for a long moment. “How much do they pay you to recite that script?”

“Absolutely nothing, I do this for pure enjoyment.” You’re almost sure that he doesn’t. He pauses, a hand poised on his hip. “Too much?”

“I’d dial it back just a smidge. Maybe keep the ahoy and the captain thing and toss the rest.”

“Noted.” He nods slowly, his eyes fixed on you. “I thought you were going to Chicago?”

“I leave the day after tomorrow,” you shrug. “Still time for me to burn the place down, you know.”

“Well, I’m glad you stopped by,” Steve chuckles. “I could show you where the gas line is, then we’d all be in trouble.”

“Oookay.” Shelly gives you a curious side-eye, and then turns back to Steve. “Well, I’ll have a U.S.S. Butterscotch with a chocolate dipped waffle bowl, if you don’t mind.”

Steve tears his eyes away from you long enough to grin at Shelly. “Coming right up. And for you?”

You freeze, glancing up at the menu. It’s written in an infuriatingly cutesy code-language that you have to decipher. “Um. I’m still deciding.”

“All right, then. Just let me know, when you’re ready.”

Steve slips away to make Shelly her sundae, a heaping pile of ice cream and butterscotch syrup that looks like the fast track to a heart attack. You alternate between trying to comprehend the menu and being distracted by Steve in that stupid sailor’s uniform.

The script on the menu may as well be written in a foreign language. Blackbeard’s Delight. Treasure Island Turtle. U.S.S. Sherbet. The sizes are even harder to understand. Fathom. League. Nautical Mile. You don’t have the capacity to decipher it- your eyes are seeing the words, but your mind is traveling back to prom night, and feeling Steve’s finger on your cheek as you gear up to kiss him.

“Are you ready?”

“Mhm…” It takes you a second to zone back into the present moment, where Steve is standing in front of you, on the other side of the counter, waiting to take your order. He waits, with a patient smile on his face, while you blink dumbly at him.

What did you say? What did he say?

“I… um.” You’re sure you look completely out of it. Your eyes flick nervously up at the menu, that you still can’t fucking read. Shelly’s already gone to sit down with her sundae, the traitor.

“It’s kind of hard to understand, isn’t it?” Steve says quietly after a moment, dropping the phony customer service charade. “I hate it. I think we should just be able to say what our favorite ice cream flavor is and be done with it.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, still squinting up at the menu. Blackbeard’s Delight: blackberry swirl with blueberry syrup and a gold doubloon. “The fuck is a doubloon?”

Steve snorts, and reaches under the counter before bringing back a handful of gold foil-covered chocolate coins, which he dumps into your outstretched hand. “You want more? We get them wholesale.”

“I’m good,” you giggle, juggling the chocolate coins before they go cascading to the floor. “I think… I don’t… I don’t understand a thing on that menu.”

“What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?” He leans forward to ask you, like it's a secret. Just between the two of you. His head bent a little to peer at you closely, so close that you can count the freckles on his skin.

You glance over your shoulder. Shelly is seated by the far wall, under a painting of a kraken, giving you an indignant look. When she notices you looking, she mouths an emphatic, ‘LET’S GO!’

“Don’t tell anyone,” you whisper, and Steve affects his gravest expression as he nods. “Strawberry.”

“A classic,” he grins. “Fan of sprinkles?”

“I can dig a few sprinkles.”

“Perfect. I think we have something up your alley.” He grabs a scooper out of the bin and twirls it once, just to show off. “Sex on the Beach.”

“What?” You don’t remember seeing anything about that on the menu.

He glances up to smirk at you before shrugging. “It’s strawberry ice cream with peach syrup. You’ll see.”

You keep an eye on his hands behind the glass partition, watching them put two scoops of strawberry into a medium sized carton. Completely unable to rein in your thoughts before they get away from you, you’re thinking about how good they would feel under your shirt. You follow a treasure map of freckles trailing up his arms, disappearing under the blue sailor’s shirt he wears. You want to kiss every single one of them.

You finally reply, “I guess I have to put my faith in your professional ice cream slinging abilities.”

“Oh, haven’t you heard?” Steve mutters sardonically as he squirts peach syrup across the two scoops of ice cream, giving it a golden sheen. “I’m the king of cream.”

You purse your lips as it takes Steve a second to realize what he just said. When he does, he snaps his head up to meet your eye in horror.

He opens his mouth to take it back, but you shake your head, holding back laughter. “Don’t ruin it.”

“I think it’s pretty much ruined already.” He turns crimson, blushing down at the half-made sundae as he rapidly shakes yellow sprinkles onto it. “I was doing so good, too.”

“Who says you aren’t still?” You give him a cute smile when he looks up through his lashes at you, still arranging toppings on the sundae. You’re not sure what happened between prom and now to change him so much, but it’s almost as if he’s… goofy. He’s less concerned with appearances, he’s more laid back and willing to make fun of himself.

You like it a lot.

You watch him plop two maraschinos onto one ice cream mound, and wedge a candied orange slice into the other, inverted, to look like a setting sun. As he passes it over the counter to you, he says, “Here you go, one Sex on the Beach. On the house.”

“What? No, I couldn’t-”

“I mean it. For overlooking my stupidity,” Steve insists. He gives you a meaningful look when he adds, “A million times over.”

“I’m not overlooking anything when it comes to you, Steve,” you tell him fondly, and drop one of the doubloons into the tip jar. It’s gaudy, gleaming artificially gold in the middle of the crumpled up dollar bills. “Hang onto that. You might be able to cash it in for a kiss someday.”

Steve blinks rapidly, leaning across the counter as you walk away. “After you come back from Chicago, right?”

You look over your shoulder, and you wink at him.

When you finally stop in front of Shelly, and you use your plastic spoon to dig into the adorable sundae that Steve crafted for you, you remember that you’d gone up to the counter with every intention of ignoring Steve and acting like you didn’t even know him.

You winked at Steve Harrington. You said you’d kiss him. You think back to the girl who was so afraid of Steve even noticing her, almost a year ago, and wonder where she went.

You look down at Shelly. She’d graduated a year before you, so she wasn’t there to witness every blunderous interaction you’d had with Steve in school. You never told her how in love you were with him.

Now, she looks up at you coyly. “So. Steve Harrington, huh?”

“Shut up,” you grunt, looking up and out at the food court outside of the Scoops Ahoy storefront. “As if you know everything.”

“Are you gonna try to make something out of that…” she gestures vaguely with her spoon toward the counter, “before school starts?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you say honestly, still poking at your sundae. “Anyways, I leave too soon for anything to really happen. What- I screw him tomorrow and then fuck off forever? It’s just wishful thinking, probably.” You finally take a bite of the ice cream, just to punctuate your sentence.

“Hm. Probably. How is that?” Shelly nods at the ice cream in your hand. “Looks pretty.”

“It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” You’re being honest. Something about the peach syrup with the strawberry base literally evokes the flavor of a sunset. “They should give him a raise.”

Humming, Shelly stands and takes her half-eaten sundae. She nudges you in the direction of the door. “C’mon. We’ve gotta eat these before the next showing of The Breakfast Club.”

Steve watches you and your friend leave, with the wistful gaze of someone who just watched their greatest opportunity walk away from them. He never knew that it was possible to hate an entire geographic location, but he really wishes Chicago would get blown off the map in the next 24 hours.

The wooden partition doors slam open, and Robin’s head appears in the window to the kitchen. “The cream king? Do you want me to actually hurl?”

“I said, ‘the king of cream,’” he groans, digging his knuckles into his eye sockets. “Kill me, Robin. Load me into the freezer. Bury me at the fairground.”

“You think you’re valuable enough to displace that much ice cream?” Robin rolls her eyes, and with another loud thwack, her white board appears in the space behind her. “We don’t make anything called Sex on the Beach. This is a family establishment.”

“I made it up.”

Robin coos, “Aww. Be still my heart. You love her to the point of invention.”

Steve whirls around. “Love? Who said anything about love?”

“I did.” Robin uncaps her dry-erase marker and draws a tally mark under the side that reads, you rule.

“Uh, Robin,” Steve snaps, pointing at the board condescendingly. “I think you put that on the wrong side. I fucked it up.”

“Dingus. Please. As much as it makes me gag- and you know I gain immense pleasure from counting how often you screw up- I could practically hear her heart eyes.” She sets the white board down, begrudgingly. “I think you found the only girl alive who’ll find all this-” she waves her hand at him, “endearing. Who was she? Some ex of yours?”

“If only,” Steve sighs, shaking his head. When he turns back to the counter, his eyes land on the single chocolate coin glinting in the tip jar.

He scoops it up with two fingers and pockets it.

You won’t believe half the things I see inside my head. Wait ‘til you see half the things that haven’t happened yet…

Family Video, March 1986

The air conditioning nearly blasts you backwards into the parking lot. You don’t know why they need it blasting so hard at 7pm, in the middle of March. It’s not like it’s the height of summer- your spring break takes place earlier than the local school’s, but it just means that you get to beat the crowds when you come home to visit your family.

Of course, they love to send you to run errands. You end up picking up the groceries, and the housewares, and, on this occasion, the choices for family movie night.

This Family Video’s selection isn’t necessarily as extensive as the ones in Chicago, but it’s good enough. You enter the store, and it dumps you directly in front of a cardboard cutout of Phoebe Cates about to flash you. Family friendly entertainment, and all.

The TV in the corner is running the final scene of The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly- Ennio Morricone’s score plays dramatically into the empty store. There’s no one behind the counter currently, so you pull the list of videos your extended family members had all requested. The Breakfast Club. Camelot. The Birds. Pretty general selections for your family, but it seems like you’ll have to hunt them up on your own.

You’re wandering down the romance aisle, since The Breakfast Club was nowhere on the new releases or comedy shelves, when someone finally emerges from the back room. You see a flash of a head moving toward the front counter from over the top of a rack, and you take it as your chance to ask for help.

“Excuse me? Do you guys have any copies of The Breakfast Club, or-”

You stop short, choking on your words. Steve Harrington turns around to look at you, carrying a stack of VHS tapes perched under his chin, and holding a folded up piece of paper between his teeth.

You stare each other down for a second, before Steve gracefully spits the paper over his shoulder and onto the counter. “Hey, um… long time, no see?”

“I’d say.” You tilt your head. Funny how quickly your eyes will hone in on his lips, like searching for a target every time. “We always seem to run into each other like this. What happened to the ice cream gig?”

“Starcourt burned down,” Steve says, plopping the stack of VHS tapes down on the counter beside the paper he spit out. “Right around the Fourth of July, last summer.”

“So, right after I last saw you?”

Steve smirks to himself before he turns back to you. “Yeah. Like, a week or so after. Did you manage to burn the place down, after all?”

“I wish.”

You pause, taking the time to size him up. It’s amazing what the better part of a year will do to someone, inside and out. With a striped shirt and green vest, he looks much more relaxed and casual than he had at Scoops Ahoy. His hair’s a little longer, his eyes a little darker as they rake over you, in return.

You’re a little bit desperate to see what’s going on in his head, if it’s anything like what’s happening in yours.

You wish you could say that you tried to seek him out when you got back to town- a year ago, maybe you would have. But you’d pretty much given up on the idea of him, moving up to dating college boys who don’t string you along, who don’t wait until the last minute to finally try their hand at flirting with you. If he ever passed through your mind, it was with the attached hope that he’d found greener pastures than Hawkins, Indiana. Foolishly, you hoped that as long as you told yourself that he’d moved on, it would be true. And then maybe what could have been wouldn’t matter anymore.

You’d stepped back into Hawkins after half a year of college, the graveyard of all hope in your happily ever after, and you hadn’t even thought of Steve Harrington. Except, seeing him now, everything comes flooding back. All the days spent pining over him. All the close brushes you’d had with finally getting the ending you wanted.

You have to be honest. “You look good, Steve. You always do.”

Steve chuckles, tilting his chin down as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his light wash jeans. “Better without the sailor costume, right?”

“Aww, I liked the sailor costume.” You step closer so you can whisper, “I thought it was sexy.”

Steve peers down his nose at you, drawing himself up to tower above you at his full height. He tries to look unaffected, but you can see his ears glowing pink beneath wisps of golden highlights. “Watch it. You’re gonna give me an ego.”

“We don’t want that, do we?” You unfold the list of movies you’re here to collect, holding it up to him between two fingers. “Got any of these movies?”

Steve reads the short list, and nods to himself. “I know we have Camelot, but I’m not sure about The Breakfast Club. Let me check in the back?”

“I’ll be here.”

“All right- don’t get up to any trouble, though. I’ve got my eye on you.” He points at you coolly, feigning an authoritative expression. He tries to hide his smile, but the creases around his eyes give him away.

“I hope you do.” You try to appear casual as you breeze past him, but you have to fiddle with your jacket collar to hide their shaking. Still, you feel the sweep of his gaze on you like rays of sun on your skin. It frightens you how easily you can fall back into the old back-and-forth routine you established in high school- how he gets you to say things you never meant to voice, but that live in your head effortlessly.

Steve watches you disappear down the drama aisle before he takes in a huge breath of air and bolts toward the back room. Any and all coolness he was performing disappears like so much smoke. Slamming open the door, he nearly shouts, “Do you have a doubloon?!”

Robin startles, swinging around in her seat, looking away from her computer screen. “A what? Why are you yelling?”

“A doubloon, a f-fucking-” Steve looks quickly over his shoulder, out the door, and starts hunching over as he whispers, “a chocolate coin. Like one of those ones we had at Scoops, remember?”

“Why do you want a chocolate coin?” Robin squints at him. “Stop crouching like that, you look like Nosferatu.”

Steve hisses through his teeth, and he’s got a frantic edge to his expression that Robin doesn’t like. “Okay- remember that girl, the one who showed up at Scoops that time, and you gave me my one and only ‘You Rule’ tally?”

“No.”

“Great. Well, she’s here, and she told me if I gave her one of those chocolate coins she’d kiss me.” Steve shoves his hands through his hair, mussing up the already disheveled style. “Please, Rob, I can’t let her get away again. I’ve done it, like, a thousand times already.”

“Okay, Romeo,” Robin humors him, turning around in her seat. “So you’re saying this babe, who I very much don’t remember because you always struck out while we worked at Scoops, told you that if you bribed her with chocolate she’d kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t think she was maybe joking?”

Steve opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water. Truthfully, he hadn’t. He’d overlooked the idea that, after everything that had happened between you, you might just be joking about kissing him.

“You know you could use your actual charm to get a girl to kiss you?” Robin dips her chin, shaking her head like it’s obvious.

Steve frowns. As if he hasn’t already tried that. “Do you have any chocolate coins or not?”

Robin sighs exasperatedly. “I don’t think I’ve seen one of those things since we worked at Scoops. Sorry, bud. You’re out of luck.”

“FUCK!” Steve’s hand smacks the door as he heads out of the back room, making Robin scowl after him. She shakes her head as she turns back to her work.

Back out on the sales floor, the credits to The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly have finished, and white noise fills the empty space. Steve turns in a circle by the checkout counter, searching for you among the aisles.

Where did you disappear to, this time? A part of him dreads the answer. He was the one who fucked everything up- he shouldn’t have chickened out when he had the chance. He should have asked you to that fucking prom, but he was too scared to commit after what happened with Nancy.

If this is his last chance, he needs to make it count.

He coughs into the dead air, and says, “Looks like we’re all out of The Breakfast Club.” There’s a disconcerting amount of silence that leaves him cold, almost certain that you’ve left already, for the last time.

Then, you appear from behind the red curtain to the adult videos section.

Oh.

“Everything okay?” you ask sweetly as you approach, holding a couple tapes that you must have picked up while you shopped around. “I heard some yelling back there.”

“Oh, yeah. Just, uh… shelving issues.” Steve backs his way behind the counter. He repeats, “Sorry, I couldn’t find the movie for you.”

“I heard. I’m not worried about it.” You plop the tapes that you did find on the counter. “It was nice of you to look for me. Thanks, Steve.”

“Always.” Steve starts scanning your tapes; it looks like you managed to find the other films on your list, along with one for yourself. From the adult section.

You watch in amusement as you can see the cogs visibly turning in Steve’s head, while he stares at the front of the porn video you picked. Spring Break Sex Party II. Not that you’d ever seen the first one, but the cover of this one was suggestive enough- a bunch of drunk people naked on a beach, lying in a great big pile. Looks like fun, in your opinion.

You always love seeing Steve blush. The prettiest shade of pink colors his cheeks before he glances up at you. “Should I ask…?”

“It’s the closest thing to getting a Sex on the Beach, here.”

Steve chokes, and he scrambles for a response to that. “I- I was gonna ask for an I.D.”

“You know we’re the same age,” you deadpan.

“Y-yeah. I, uh- I know… I know that.” He hangs his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes tightly shut.

You wonder if this is what you looked like to him, that time in the hallway when he loitered by the fountain to talk to you. “Breathe, Steve.”

A blast of laughter leaves his mouth before he can swallow it. If only you knew how hard it actually is, to act like he’s not just fucking melting right in front of you. When he hangs on every word you say, and every other thought he has is about how badly he wants to tell Robin to get lost and take you in the back room. You don’t know how much he’s fixating on your curves and how they’d feel against him, how much he wants to taste every inch of your body. He’s practically vibrating in place with all his pent up frustration, and you’re here buying porn, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Steve clears his throat, shakes his head. Christ. “Okay, well. You know that this is a sale item, it’s not for rent. You can return it within 10 days as long as the packaging hasn’t been opened.”

“I know.”

“Okay.” He’s still nodding as he puts it into the bag with the rest of your rentals.

“Are you always this affected by people buying from the adult section?” you ask mildly.

“Nah, usually I don’t care,” he replies without thinking.

“Good to know that you care about my taste in pornography,” you tell him with the most shit eating grin on your face, taking the bag from him. “I’m flattered.”

He makes a clumsy noise in the back of his throat, somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. He’s right back to working at Scoops Ahoy, fumbling every attempt at flirting, losing his cool at the sight of a pretty girl. It’s… humbling.

He’s sure Robin would say that he can always use more humility.

“It was good to see you again, Steve.” And just like that, you’re sand slipping through the cracks in his fingers.

Desperately, he tries to block the flow, closing his fingers around you in an attempt to keep you in his grasp. “Do you- uh-” He lurches forward, white-knuckling the counter like his life depends on it. You turn back towards him, an eyebrow raised at his sudden outburst.

You’re back in the school hallway, senior year. Crying over Logan Sawyer. Harrington is up against the wall by the drinking fountain. You want him to just say the words and ask you to prom.

“I mean… if you have the time, while you’re in town… do you want to go for a cup of coffee? With me?”

“Oh, Steve.” You sigh, and it’s the most heartbreaking noise he’s ever heard in his life. Soft sand, falling through his fingers, disappearing back the way you came. He already dreads your answer before it comes. “I wish… you know, if I had come in here and met you about a week ago, I would have said yes in a heartbeat. But I have to catch the train back to Chicago tomorrow. My break’s almost up.” You offer him a reassuring smile. “I’m just glad that you didn’t completely miss me, at least.”

“Right, of course.” Steve smiles back at you, feeling more like an idiot the longer this drags on. He’s like Sisyphus rolling that rock up the fucking hill. “I… I’m glad I got to see you, too. Maybe next time.”

Oh, it hurts. It hurts way more than you thought it would, to have to turn Steve down- after all the years pining for him through high school, after the time you turned him away when he would have kissed you. You think about kissing him, now. He would let you do it- he’s asking you out, and he looks so sad that you’re saying no.

You could. But wouldn’t it make saying goodbye this time even harder than it already is?

“Yeah. Maybe next time,” you tell him. You don’t want this to hurt more than it does. You truly hope there’s a next time, another year down the line when you run into him over winter break. Maybe you’ll find him at the Radio Shack.

Steve watches you leave, once again. Fumbling his chance, again. When the door swings shut behind you, Steve bends at the waist and drops his head against the countertop.

Typical Harrington. Late to the party, miss the girl.

“Well. That was… really painful to listen to.” Robin emerges from behind one of the shelves, crossing her arms. Gently, she adds, “On the bright side, I don’t think the chocolate coin would have mattered.”

Steve picks his head up, and he thwacks his forehead back down onto the counter.

And again.

And I can see you being my addiction, you can see me as a secret mission. Hide away, and I will start behaving myself…

Sur La Table Restaurant, Chicago, April 1991

You shake your umbrella out as you step into the warm foyer of, quite possibly, the most upscale restaurant you’ve ever set foot in. The carpet is deep, blood red, the walls a dark chestnut wood. The white covered tables are each spotlit within the otherwise dark dining room, and the atmosphere is flavored by soft piano and the quiet din of hushed voices.

You had been hesitant to accept Theo’s invitation to dinner- he seemed too stuck up for your taste, but when Shelly introduced you to him, you had to admit that the name of the restaurant piqued your interest. Sur La Table. Chicago’s premiere Michelin Star restaurant.

As you hand your umbrella over to the coat check clerk, you’re greeted by a smiling hostess. “What’s the name for the reservation?”

“Um… Theo Bowman. I believe he’s already here?”

“Yes, ma’am. Right this way.”

Theo stands as you’re shown to the table. Tall, with dark hair and a wide smile, he reminds you of someone you knew once, but you just can’t seem to place it. Then, when he towers over you to shake your hand, standing far closer than necessary, you’re able to pick it out from the recesses of your mind.

Logan Sawyer.

“You look nice,” Theo says pleasantly, and you chalk up your initial comparison to nerves, on your part. You don’t often let friends set you up on dates, so you’re a little bit out of your element as it is.

As you go to sit down, you admit, “I was so glad when you picked this place, I’ve always wanted to eat here, since I moved to Chicago.”

“It’s not the nicest place I’ve been,” Theo shrugs, taking the seat across from you.

Your smile falters, for a second. “Oh, no?” The water has already been brought to the table, you guess while he was waiting for you. You take a long drink.

“Nah, I’ve been to Le Bernardin, in New York. That’s fine dining.” Theo waves his hand at the upscale dining room. “This is… okay.”

“I see.” You lift your menu, hoping that he’ll do the same.

“Yeah, New York is so much nicer than Chicago, in my opinion,” Theo continues, fiddling with his napkin as he talks. “There’s a lot more to do. Have you ever been?”

You hope this is just his nerves talking. “No.”

Theo keeps talking as you stare at the menu in front of you, at a loss. It’s an a la carte menu, clearly, but extensive and all in french. Salade de poires pochées. Coquilles Saint-Jacques Gratineés. Filet au poivre vert. You’re scrutinizing the fine print of what all the dishes include when your waiter steps up to the table. You know when it happens, because Theo finally stops blathering about New York.

You break your eyes away from the menu to glance at the server’s waistline, at eye level with you. He wears a crisply pressed suit and tie, his hands clasped in front of his belt.

“Good evening sir, ma’am,” the server says in a hushed tone, to keep the volume of the dining room down. “Welcome to Sur La Table. I’m Steven, I’ll be serving you this evening. Before we begin, are there any questions about the menu?”

You peer up into the darkness to try to see Steven’s face. He’s standing just outside of the spotlight over the table, only able to be dimly lit from the indirect light reflecting from the tablecloth. Once your eyes adjust, they lock onto a pair of familiar hazel ones.

Oh my fucking god.

It’s got to be fate, or kismet, or some force of nature that keeps bringing you together like this. Steve Harrington’s face hasn’t changed in five years. Maybe he looks just slightly older, a little more filled out in his suit and tie. His hair is a bit shorter at the back but still that same shade of golden brown, neatly groomed and tidy for the formal atmosphere- but you can see it being tousled on his off days, still flopping across his eyes in waves. And those are the same lips you dreamt about kissing, the same eyes you admired in the school hallway, the same nose that you always wanted to grind o-

“No, I think we’re ready to order,” Theo announces, louder than necessary. You throw your gaze at him, your eyebrows raising despite your best efforts to remain calm.

Is he really going to order for you? Just like that?

“Well, I was going to ask-” you begin, wanting to get a little more specification on how the filet is made, when Theo cuts you off.

“It’s okay, I speak French,” he insists. Not that it makes a difference to what your question was.

You press your lips together in irritation and glance at Steve, who looks back at you stoically. You wonder if he recognizes you like you do him- it’s been long enough, and you’re sure that you look a bit different than you did the last time you saw him. And then you notice the creases around his eyes.

He’s playing it off well enough, sure. But Steve is doing that same look that he did there in the Family Video five years ago, trying to pretend that he’s not affected by you, swallowing back his smile. He sends you a knowing look that says, What a fucking douchebag, am I right?

Suddenly, this date just got way more entertaining. You give Steve a minute roll of your eyes, only enough for him to notice. Tell me about it.

“We’ll start with the Bordeaux,” Theo is already reciting to Steve as you settle back in your seat. Steve pulls a little notepad out of his jacket pocket and begins writing. “For an appetizer, the coquilles. Then for the main, I’ll have the canard montmorency, and she’ll have the mignons de veau.”

You watch Steve’s hand pause as he’s writing, and he looks to you. He raises his eyebrow, saying everything he needs to with the one gesture. Is that what you really want? “The veal?”

“No,” you say, digging your thumbnail into your palm, where it rests on your lap. “Actually, I wanted to ask about the filet. What brandy is the sauce made with?”

Steve smiles, leaning a little bit closer to you. “We use Courvoisier.”

“Great. I’ll have that, please.”

Steve nods encouragingly at you. As he jots down the order, he says, “Wonderful. I’ll get this to the kitchen for you, but before I can bring you the wine, I’ll just need to see the lady’s I.D.”

“Are you serious?” Theo snaps.

“It’s all right,” you murmur, hiding your face as you dip your head to fish your I.D. out of your clutch. “He’s just doing his job. Right, Steven?”

Steve meets your eye as he takes the card from your hand. “You can never be too careful.” You watch him smirk as he looks over your I.D., his eyes lingering on your name for a second before he hands it back to you. If there was any doubt in his mind that you are who he thought, it’s gone now. “Interesting. We’re the same age.”

You laugh. Probably a little louder than is respectable, but you can’t help it. Leave it to Steve Harrington to remind you of the time you bought porn from him, while you’re on a date.

You watch Steve write something else on his notepad, and rip the page out before folding it up. He tucks his notepad into his pocket as he says, “I’ll get this started for you. I hope you enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you, Steven,” you offer just as he starts to walk away.

Steve shoots you a sideways glance. “Always.”

Your heartbeat pounds in your chest as you turn back to your date. Theo looks disgruntled, but he just lifts his water to his lips.

“So,” you begin, “what do you do?”

“Marketing manager,” Theo says, with a click of his tongue. “For Bowman Wine & Spirits.”

“Oh,” you nod. “No relation, I suppose?”

“My father owns the company.”

“Right.” God, help me.

Across the dining room, Steve watches you over his shoulder. His jaw sets as he sees you, the girl of his literal dreams, sitting across from some idiot who doesn’t even know that you don’t order for your date without asking her what she wants first, you fucking weasel.

That’s all right. You seem to have the situation under control, for now. Steve watches you calmly sip your water, staring at your date but not listening to a thing he’s saying.

Steve sighs. He’s never been much of a schemer, but he’ll just make sure that you won’t leave with this guy if you don’t want to.

His fingers brush the note in his pocket, and he pinches it just as he passes the front of house manager, Taryn. Without breaking stride, he slips the note into her hand, heading toward the back hallway and down to the wine cellar.

As Steve passes by, Taryn unfolds the note he slips her, and raises one eyebrow at the request he’s written.

I can see you in your suit and your necktie, pass me a note saying, “Meet me tonight.” Then we kissed and you know I won’t ever tell…

Overall, you enjoy Sur La Table immensely. The restaurant itself, anyways. The wine is wonderful. The atmosphere is great. The food is exquisite.

You’re about to jump the waiter’s bones.

Theo got his second wind sometime after the scallops arrived, and you think he hasn’t paused for breath since. You’ve been calmly eating your food, while Theo tells you literally everything about himself. It’s the best case scenario you can see happening on this date. You enjoy the food, mumble a non-committal acknowledgement now and then, and Theo entertains himself with his own voice the rest of the time.

You’re gonna kill Shelly for setting you up with him, but that’s tomorrow’s problem.

Right now, you’re focused on finishing your glass of wine while he talks about camping, of all things.

“So we got up into the Rockies,” he’s telling you, gesturing with his hands like it’ll make you more engaged. “We ended up freezing our keisters off. No joke, I have frostbite scars.”

“That’s, um… that sounds like fun.”

“No, are you listening? I mean, it was terrible. We couldn’t move for, like, two days. And when the snow stopped we were so tired and cold, we almost died.”

You knock back the rest of your wine with one gulp, and say with a sticky voice, “Wow. A near death experience must have been really scary, I’m sorry.”

Theo frowns. “No- I mean… It wasn’t… it wasn’t near death-”

“You just said-”

“It was more like a serious inconvenience, you know. But we pulled through. I wasn’t scared. A little snow isn’t gonna kill me,” he laughs incredulously. “It was just-”

Theo stops as Steve approaches the table. You catch him giving the back of Theo’s head the most murderous look imaginable before slowing to a stop and plastering an easy customer service smile in its place. “How did you find everything this evening?”

“It was fine.”

“The food was wonderful,” you tell Steve reassuringly. Your date, on the other hand…

“Yeeeah, could we get the check, please?” Theo asks, finally looking up at Steve.

You watch Steve’s brow twitch, such a small movement you could have imagined it. “Certainly. But first-” from behind his back, he reveals two white gift boxes and places them on the table in front of you and your date, respectively. “We like to give each of our customers a signature chocolate truffle, as a token of our appreciation.”

Everything in you aches. “Oh, that’s nice. Thank you so much.” You look down at the box in adoration, thinking for a second that it might be the only time in your life that Steve Harrington gives you something similar to a ring box.

“I’ll be sure to have our hostess come through with the check,” Steve adds delicately, making a gracious exit. His finger just slightly brushes your arm as he passes by- a dangerous move, but one that nearly electrifies your entire body at the single touch. You shiver as he says, “Have a lovely night.”

You watch Steve walk away from you, and your heart sinks into your stomach. You want to chase after him. The 18 year old you, who almost kissed him on prom night, is trying to claw its way out of your skin and bolt after him.

When Steve disappears from view, you have nowhere to look but at your date. Theo opens the white box in front of him and pops a neapolitan colored truffle into his mouth. “Well, that was underwhelming.”

You don’t want to watch him chewing anymore, like a cow gnawing on grass. You sigh, running a frustrated hand across your forehead, and flip open the box in front of you. The top of it rears up like a clam shell, and you freeze, your fingertips suddenly sticking to the sweat beading on your brow.

You don’t have a neapolitan truffle- you have a single golden chocolate coin. You stare at it in shock for a second before you even notice the note pasted to the lid of the box.

Meet me outside- the door past the bathrooms.

“Aren’t you gonna eat yours?” Theo asks suddenly, as the hostess approaches holding the check.

Your eyes snap up just as your heart shoots back up into your chest. “I think I’m gonna save it for later.” You flash him a smile as you close the box swiftly and shove it into your clutch. “Do you mind if I hit the bathroom real quick?”

“No, go ahead. I’ve got it.” Honestly, it’s the kindest thing he’s done for you all night. You might have to thank him some day.

Once you’re out of your seat, you chase after Steve like a shot. Around a block of tables and into a tiled corridor, you walk past the kitchen doorway just as another server comes backing out, carrying a tray of dishes.

There’s a door at the end of the hall, labeled exit. You never actually thought you’d be escaping a bad date through the back door; the notion was too clichéed, you thought that sort of thing only happened in movies. But you find yourself nearly running past the men’s and women’s bathrooms, until your hands slam down on the bar of the back door and thrust it open into the wind.

The rain has picked up, more of a downpour than a light drizzle now. In your haste, you’d left your umbrella and coat with the coat check. Not that it would have been at all discrete if you’d gone to collect it before running towards the bathrooms.

The door clicks shut behind you, and you gaze around in the dark. The alley behind the restaurant is only partially lit by a yellow street lamp, making it even more difficult to find him than it was in the dining room. “Steve?”

You catch movement in the corner of your eye, and turn in the direction of the street lamp. Steve stands up from where he’d been sitting on an overturned crate- apparently the only accommodations the restaurant staff gets during a smoke break. The rain has already soaked into his hair, messing up the tidy style and turning it stringy, falling across his forehead, shining gold in the yellow light. He takes one last puff of the cigarette in his mouth before tossing it into the gutter, and he looks at you.

He sees you. And it’s all you’ve wanted since the day he first walked into your geography class, freshman year of high school. There’s been some kind of a magnetic pull between you two for years. Something keeps bringing you together, it’s just never been the right time. Until now.

Finally, you’re running towards him, and Steve’s arms finally come around you, pulling you against his body. Your hands find the back of his neck just in time for his lips to crash against yours.

You had lost count of the amount of times you watched him kiss other girls in the hallway in high school- not just Nancy, but any and every girl he attached himself to (for a while, it seemed like he couldn’t make up his mind who he was dating at any given moment). All you knew was that it was never you, and you wanted it to be so desperately that it consumed your mind half the time. He looked like a good kisser, and you fantasized about going up to him and testing that theory for yourself.

But you never expected that his lips would slide over yours with an urgency that you could feel through to your very core, probably even more desperate for your kiss than you are for his. Steve’s fingertips press into your body through the thin fabric of your dress, holding you firmly to him like he’s afraid you might disappear on him again if he doesn’t absorb you completely. Your mouth opens with a soft gasp, and Steve’s tongue against yours tastes like tobacco.

It happens so fast that you can’t even think- and you don’t really want to. You’re tired of thinking everything through, finding reasons upon reasons why it’s not a good time, why it’s a bad idea, why it won’t work. He moans into you, grabbing the side of your face as he stumbles with you to the wall, pressing you up against the side of the brick building.

You meet his moan with a whimper of your own as his hand slides down over the curve of your ass, and he hikes up the skirt of your dress to grab at your skin with abandon. There’s a ferocity in Steve’s kiss that you don’t know what to do with, like he’s trying to stake a claim to you right there in the rain, with no one around to see it happen but the moths in the street light overhead. Not that he needs to- he’s already got you. You already chose him.

Steve gives you room to breathe with a soft sigh, his forehead resting against yours. “Been wanting to do that since high school,” he admits, just loud enough for you to hear, before pressing a featherlight kiss just beside your mouth, and again to your cheek.

“Y-you fffucking-?” you gasp when he latches his lips around a sweet spot on your neck and sucks. “I had such a huge crush on you, Steve.”

“I know. I- I should have- I should…” Steve drops his head against your shoulder and groans when your nails rake against his scalp. “Fuck.”

He grinds his hips up against yours, biting your lip as the hard length of his cock presses up against your core. “Gonna fuck me in this alleyway, Harrington?”

“I’m seriously considering it,” he growls into your ear. His lips find yours again with a passion, his hand holding your jaw still. A hot breath escapes him, pouring over your skin and making you shiver. You’re lightheaded, so close to just letting him do it, too, when the back door of the restaurant swings open.

Steve still takes a second to pull away, a little too absorbed in kissing you to really care who sees him do it. If he had his way, he’d have everyone see that you’re his- that you belong with him, and have for a long time. He finally glances over his shoulder to see one of the cooks, Liam, walking off in the direction of the employee parking lot.

“Where did you get the fucking doubloon?” you whisper into his ear, sounding so fucking adorable that Steve can’t help the lovesick look he gives you.

He brushes his nose against yours. “I sent my manager on a treasure hunt.” You giggle, pressing your forehead up against his, and he can’t help but chuckle along with you. “I wanted to give you one at Family Video, that time.”

“I know,” you say, and he pulls back to look at your face. “I heard you yelling at your coworker in the back room.”

Steve snickers and turns red with embarrassment, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You run your fingers through his rain-soaked hair, a content smile on your face as you feel him grin against your skin and shake with laughter. “Take me home, Steve.”

You don’t have to ask him twice.

What would you do, baby, if you only knew? That I can see you throw your jacket on the floor, I can see you make me want you even more…

The drive to Steve’s apartment downtown is made with light conversation and the heavy, heavy weight of his hand on your thigh, creeping up further with each mile. But aside from the implication of sex hanging in the air, it’s as easy as breathing, chatting about the night with him. Shitting on Theo.

“Did you notice the way he said coquilles,” Steve murmurs to you at a red light. “I thought he was gagging on something. He was just trying to impress you, you know.”

You grunt. Could’ve tried a little harder. “He didn’t even like them. He said he didn’t like shellfish,” you laugh in return as you lace your fingers through Steve’s. “Why the fuck would you order scallops, then?”

“The price.”

It’s sweet, talking to him all the way to his apartment building, just catching up like old friends. He tells you that he’s going to culinary school now, and he’s been working at the restaurant for a little over a year, just to pay the bills.

“Culinary school? Really?” you say, with a note of awe in your voice.

“Turns out I’m really fucking good at cooking,” Steve chuckles. “Who’d have thought? Maybe someday I’ll stop waiting tables and work back there in the kitchen.”

“I can see it,” you tell him softly. “I can see you being the world’s best chef. Three stars and everything.”

He scoffs, but a pink blush creeps up the back of his neck. “You have too much faith in me.”

“Those are fighting words, Harrington.” You wag your finger at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?”

“You just want me to cook you something,” Steve tuts.

“Absolutely, I do.” You consider him for a moment, in the passing light of a streetlamp. “Am I that transparent?”

Steve tilts his head to eye you meaningfully, and he smirks. “Always have been, honey.” His thumb rubs a little circle on your thigh that has you squirming in your seat.

The first thing you see of Steve’s apartment is the kitchen, and beyond that the dormant living room, but you don’t get that far before you’re sidetracked. Steve throws his keys onto a drop station by the door, and pins you up against the refrigerator before you can even think to ask where to put your shoes.

Your clothes are still damp, your hair still pasted to your clammy skin. Steve’s lips are attacking yours and his hands are grabbing at everything he can touch, but it’s still not enough. He’s not able to feel all of you at once, and it’s driving him insane with every passing moment.

Steve roughly yanks his suit jacket off, throwing it onto the tile floor beside the kitchen island. “Lay down.”

“What?” you whisper to him as he kisses your neck, guiding you away from the side of the fridge. “Here?”

“Right here,” Steve states, not joking in the slightest. You wobble on your feet as you kick off your heels, but his hands on your hips keep you steady. “Been waiting too long for this- can’t wait anymore.”

“I- wwhuh-?” you gasp as Steve kneels in front of you, and your knees buckle involuntarily as he lays you down across his discarded jacket. Your hands grab his shoulders as you tumble backward, taking him with you.

He face-plants into your stomach with a noisy, “Oof.” Cackling, you run your fingers through his damp hair, as he laughs and shoves his blushing face further against your torso. Steve litters your stomach with kisses, giggling against you with a note of nervous energy. He’s adorable.

You pet your fingers down the side of his face and he leans into the touch. “Can’t even wait long enough to take me to the bedroom?”

“Well, I would have fucked you in the alley,” Steve points out as his fingers breach the hem of your skirt and find your panties. He tugs as he says, “Be thankful I even got you home.”

Your cheeks burn hot. You fidget, trying to press your thighs together to abate the throbbing ache between them. “Careful, baby. You’re starting to sound desperate.”

Steve pauses, his hazel eyes lighting up when they lock on yours. “Call me that again,” he requests, pressing a kiss to your ankle as he pulls your panties off your feet. He tosses them over his shoulder, but you don’t see where they land as he continues peppering kisses down your calf.

You hold his gaze. “Baby?” His eyes flutter, his lips parting as they drag up toward your knee. “You like when I call you that?”

“I like when you call me anything,” Steve admits. “But as long as you call me that, it means I’m yours.”

Your breath stutters in your chest. Steve Harrington is yours. It doesn’t matter if it’s just for tonight- what matters is that you have him now, and he wants you just as badly.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he murmurs quietly against your skin, his voice crackling with brimming need. He’s flushed, his cheeks pink and his hair drying in tousled waves over his forehead the longer he drags this out.

Nodding your head, you reach down to lace your fingers through his, where they’re bunching your skirt up around your hips. “Yes, Steve.” Always have been.

He turns his head and sucks a spot on your calf, just below your knee, resting your ankle over his shoulder. Still, despite your desperation, you nervously keep your thighs pinched together.

Steve tuts, “C’mon, baby, you’ve gotta spread your legs for me. You wanna let me see that pretty pussy, right?”

Still clammy and cold with rain, the air on your exposed skin makes you shiver almost as much as his sweeping hands do when they gently part your thighs. You let go, let him take control as you still and keep your eyes focused on his face, because looking anywhere else would remind you that this is real, and not a dream.

Steve sighs, “There she is. Y’gonna let me taste you, sweetheart?” He bats his pretty eyes at you in a way that makes your heart stop dead in your chest. He can’t keep his mouth off of you, even for a moment, his lips and slight stubble dragging across your skin as he says, “Been wanting to forever, you won’t even believe-”

“Please, Steve,” you start to beg before he even finishes his sentence. “Please, my god, I- I just- I just want you so much-”

“Sh-sh-sh-shh.” His tongue licks wet and hot against your inner thigh before he whispers, “I’ve got you, baby. M’not going anywhere, I’m staying right here ‘til you cum.”

You’re instantly hot all over, your blood fucking boiling beneath your skin and your wet dinner dress. Steve’s fingers dig into the meat of your thighs as he yanks you toward his face, the fabric of his jacket beneath you audibly zipping along the kitchen floor.

Steve dips his head, and his mouth closes over your cunt right at the same moment that yours falls open with a moan that won’t come out, because you’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe. The noise stalls right at the beginning- your lungs stop working and you can’t seem to get them to start again, because Steve’s tongue is everywhere, dripping wet and gentle on skin that’s way too sensitive to handle it right now. Your hips try to jerk away from him in resistance, but he slams his hand down on them, holding you hard and still against the tile floor, his shoulders pushed up against the backs of your thighs to keep them open.

Steve takes a break just long enough to grin evilly up at you, because he’s been waiting for five years to tell you to, “Breathe, sweetheart.”

“Fffffuck,” you manage to spit out finally, your voice cracking on the word like it didn’t even really want to put in the work to make it happen. Your breath comes back into your lungs all at once, rapid firing with a dozen moans for punctuation. Steve’s lips quirk against you, and he rumbles a noise of satisfaction against your pussy that makes you jolt in his hold again. “Steve…”

He pulls off of you with a slow, slow stroke of his tongue over your clit, making you whimper high and tight in your throat. “That’s it, baby,” Steve whispers, his breath fanning across your slick cunt, his left hand leaving your hip so that he can drag his knuckles teasingly through your swollen folds. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Feels so right.”

Two long fingers sink into you with ease, stirring the need in you to have him just simply destroy you. You moan loud, your hand shooting out and wrapping around the leg of a bar stool for the kitchen island beside you.

“Poor thing’s just so sensitive, huh?” Your head arches backwards against the floor, your pussy clenching tight around his fingers as he curves them with practiced accuracy. Steve’s voice is a deep murmur, distant thunder rolling over your nerves, “Relax for me, honey. You’ve waited long enough, just let it happen. Let me give you what you want.”

His lips shine when you look down at him, your hand reaching to run through his hair. Stifling a whine that threatens to come out when he kisses your clit and bends his fingers within you, you stutter out, “J-just want… I- ha-ah! Just want you.”

Steve purrs. “I know.” The crisp white fabric of his shirt scrapes against your thighs, almost rough in comparison to his tongue flat on your pussy. You can hear the wet, salacious sound of his fingers pumping into you, pulling you toward the edge of oblivion. He hisses through his teeth, shaking his head slightly. “God, I’m so fuckin’ lucky.”

“Y-you-?” you manage a laugh, scraping your nails along his scalp lightly. “You’re lucky? You have n-no… fffucking idea-” You cut off with a sob when Steve wraps his lips around your clit, sucking long and hard enough that your leg twitches, your heel dragging up the back of his pristine white blouse. Your breathing picks up just as all your muscles lock down tight. “Jesus Christ-”

“There you go,” Steve praises as your orgasm shakes your body, your hand gripping his hair so hard that he groans softly into your damp skin. He doesn’t stop moving his fingers, lewd wet noises picking up and echoing through the quiet kitchen. “That’s a good girl. Mmm , felt so nice to let go, didn’t it?”

You don’t know if he really wants you to answer that- you’re still twitching, coming down from your high as he pulls his fingers from your spasming cunt and sucks them into his mouth. The pause gives you a gentle reprieve, sinking back onto his suit jacket beneath you. Then, his mouth finds your pussy again, his tongue delving deep into your entrance and laving up to your sensitive clit.

You gasp, throwing your hands down into his hair. “Steve-?!”

He moans in response. “Just needed to taste you some more, honey. Taste so fuckin’ sweet, I can’t get enough.” Steve relents, crawling up your body to hover his face over yours. “Still wanna see the bedroom?”

You nod excitedly, your hands finding his smiling face and stroking the hair away from his eyes. With a gentle kiss of his wet lips to yours, Steve gathers your still-wrecked body into his arms and carries you into his bedroom.

He’s struck by how blissful you are as he sets you down on his bed, so soft and inviting. He encourages your arms up, his hands finding the zipper of your wet dress and finally, finally, pulling it over your head so that he can see you. All your curves and edges on display for him, after all this time imagining what he couldn’t see with the naked eye.

“You’re so beautiful.” Steve repeats what he told you all those years ago at prom- he meant it then, and he means it now. Maybe even more this time, now that he’s not a stupid teenager, now that he finally has his head on his shoulders.

You shiver against him when he unclips your bra- black lace that matches the underwear sitting in his entryway. A possessive part of him rears up, knowing that you’d worn them to a date with some asshole who couldn’t treat you right, even for one hour of the guy’s miserable life. Steve dips his head and kisses your breast, so much softer now than he was before, feeling your heartbeat against his lips.

“Hey.” You gently tug him by his tie, loosening it and his collar. You look into his eyes, and his heart melts. “Where’d you go just now, sailor?”

Steve blushes, his eyes flicking down as you remove his tie and start unbuttoning his blouse. “Just thinking...” he trails off, eyeing you thoughtfully. “Just thinking I could have missed you again if I wasn’t careful.”

“Mmm,” you hum, your hands smoothing up his chest and over his shoulders to get his shirt off of him. It drops to the floor with a whisper. “I don’t think so. I think this was meant to happen, eventually.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You scrunch your nose cutely, in a way that makes Steve’s pants tighten even more uncomfortably across his hips. “We’ve run into each other too many fuckin’ times, baby. Karma’s on our side.”

He laughs. “Karma.” He shakes his head as he undoes his belt.

You quirk your brow at him as your hands fiddle with the fly of his suit pants. “Don’t believe me?”

Steve grunts, shifting to lean over you. “I’ll believe anything you say when you’re taking my pants off, honey. I’m easy that way.”

Your nails rake through the hair on his chest- you can’t keep your hands off of him now that they’ve got him. You trace over two blotchy scars, one on either side of his torso that mirror each other. “What happened here?”

He blows a puff of air out of his mouth, rounding his cheeks as he shrugs. “Some… animals decided I looked really tasty, at one point. I know, they aren’t very pretty.”

Steve’s brushing over it like it’s nothing. You search his face, and you decide to do the same. “Actually, I think it’s kind of hot.” You drag your hand up to lay flat over his chest. You whisper conspiratorially, “Plus, I think you look really tasty, too.”

Steve quirks an eyebrow. “Y’gonna bite me about it?”

“Probably.” You wink. “Most likely.”

Your gaze falls indiscreetly to his cock, hard and flushed, glistening with precum and curving up toward his stomach. Girls talk, especially when they’re all trying to one-up each other; you knew that he was big. You’d heard the rumors. You’d seen him wearing those tight fucking jeans all the time, and you didn’t have to have much of an imagination to figure it out.

Still. It’s… a little overwhelming. You reach out a tentative hand, lightly wrapping your fingers around his base. They barely meet. Jesus Christ.

He groans, and kisses you until you can’t speak, resting his weight on top of you until you sink gleefully into the mattress. There’s a smile on your lips that transfers onto his, happiness and ease still flowing between you even as he grinds his hips up against yours.

“Ready?” Steve murmurs softly into your mouth, stealing your breath when you feel his cock slide through your folds, hot and fat.

“Dunno,” you tell him teasingly, but there’s an edge of reason to your words. Your hips squirm and you feel him even worse, slippery with your arousal. You whine. “I think you might kill me with that thing, Harrington.”

“I’ll go slow,” he whispers, hoarse in the back of his throat, his voice already shaking. “I’ll make sure you feel every bit of it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree as you reach to line him up properly. “I’m all yours.”

Steve gives a relieved sigh as he slides into you, his head falling heavily to your shoulder. His cock aches, his torso shaking as he tries to steady himself. “Oh my god.”

“Baby,” you coo, choking on a moan when he bottoms out. He’s so thick- your nails dig into his shoulder blades as you try to remember how to breathe. It’s certainly a big stretch to try to fit him, but you can’t help wanting more just as soon as he comes to a stop. You can feel him trying to hold steady, holding himself back as though it’s the hardest thing in the world for him to do.

Because it is. You can’t see it, the way that his brow is furrowed in concentration, his eyes screwed shut. He didn’t know it would be like this- that he’d be in danger of blowing it just as soon as he started.

Your heel digs into his ass, and he doesn’t know if you do it purposefully, but he almost whimpers.

You take a shuddering breath. “Please- please move, Steve, I can’t take it.”

Oh, you can’t take it? “You know what,” Steve says with a hint of strain in his voice, picking his head up to nuzzle his nose with yours, “I think you like me.”

You snort, and kiss him lightly. “What gave you that impression?”

“Y’so fucking cute.” Steve hums and sloooowly pulls his hips back, dragging his cock through your walls so deliciously that your toes curl. “Could be all those times you stared at me in class-” He watches your face as he pushes forward, until his hips are flush with yours and your head arches backwards against his sheets. “Could be when you nearly let me kiss you at prom-” Out. In. Steve runs his tongue up the length of your throat, and bites at your earlobe. He whispers, “Could be that you came on my tongue ten minutes ago.”

He picks up his pace, just a bit. Just enough to have the bed creaking under you with the rhythm, to have you moaning in tandem with him- needy and high pitched, leaping from your throat into the hot, sex-charged air.

Steve’s lips latch onto your neck, and he sucks hard. He eases up after just a couple seconds, dragging his tongue over the sensitive spot, but you know what he’s just done- he’s marked you, right where you won’t be able to hide it in the morning.

You want him to do it all over your body.

Your jaw goes slack and you’re losing all integrity. He’s even better than you imagined- sleepless nights wanting, hoping endlessly that you’d find yourself here, under him, couldn’t have prepared you for how perfect it feels. His hand finds yours and laces your fingers together, pinning it to the mattress beside your head, squeezing with every slow and purposeful thrust of his hips.

Steve’s cock finds your g-spot like it’s nothing, like he’s known your body for ages. He barely even has to try before you’re whimpering, raking your nails up his back and leaving long red trails behind.

Your teeth latch onto his shoulder and you bite, probably harder than you should, but you just can’t refuse the urge to mark him the way that he’s left his mark on you. He moans, a deep and boyish sound in your ear, as you drag your tongue along his shoulder, soothing the bite, tasting his sweat. The salt and the sweetness of his skin, mixed with the heady smell of sex in the room, have you losing yourself in him.

“Biter.” You hear him chuckle dangerously, rumbling along your skin while his nose skirts your jawline.

“You’re so good, Stevie-” you whine, hot pleasure rearing up in you like a tidal wave. “Oh, you feel so fucking good, I love- love how you feel inside me.”

Steve groans loudly into your shoulder, his teeth grazing your collarbone. You think he has a mind to bite you back- maybe he’d do it harder. You can see Steve drawing blood, when the mood suits him.

But his hand squeezes yours, his other sweeping broadly up your thigh and hitching your leg up further over his hip. “Yeah?” His voice is rough, bordering on a growl, “What’d’ya say we stay like this forever, huh? Just like this?”

His pelvis grinds up against yours, his pubes crushing against your clit making you gasp. Everything’s wet- your skin, his skin, the sheets. Sweaty bodies sticking and sliding against each other, your hips meeting his in the middle.

“Like this?” you gasp, your head reeling. His forehead presses against yours, and it’s just about the only thing bringing you back into focus. Steve doesn’t falter, keeping the same pace and rhythm while he watches you try to form a coherent reply. “Mm- I- I, hhuh-”

“C’mon, babygirl,” he breathes against your damp skin, “you can do better than that. You love my cock so much, you wanna keep it warm all the time? Wanna stay in bed with me forever, is that it?”

You nod fervently, your hands grabbing at his neck, his hair, his shoulder- anywhere you can touch. “Yes, yes. God, Steve, I- you’re gonna make me cum, shit-”

“I know it,” Steve murmurs, tugging your lip between his teeth and making you whine again. Your cunt pulses around him, and he hisses, his hand slipping on your thigh. “Love seein’ you all drunk on my cock- shit, you’re so gorgeous like this.” He pauses to kiss you, making you lightheaded, making you tug at his hair. “Y’look so pretty under me, baby. Pussy feels so good, I wanna stay here, too. I can see us doin’ this for the rest of our lives, huh? How’s that sound?”

How does it sound? You and Steve Harrington, together forever? Intertwined, knotted up with no way to lose each other, no disappearing and then reappearing years down the line?

“S’that a challenge?” you whimper shakily at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?”

“I don’t think I could let you go, now,” Steve tells you firmly, his hand leaving your thigh so that he can grab your jaw possessively, his tongue darting out to trace gently across your bottom lip. “I’m never gonna let you go, baby.”

You wrap your legs around his waist. “I don’t want you to.”

“I hope so,” he whispers, his breath mingling with yours.

Steve kisses you long and slow when you cum. You swallow his moans when he does.

What would you? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you, oh, I can see you…

You almost think it’s a dream. When you rouse in the morning, you feel like you imagined it. But you’re surrounded by the scent of Steve, of musky cologne and sweat and sex, and maybe just a little bit of hair gel stuck to his pillows.

You flop over and stare at the ceiling. You’re alone in a king size bed, fitted with gray sheets and a few too many pillows. The other side of the bed is still warm, but your paramour is nowhere to be found. His bedroom is fairly stark, with a few little things arranged on the dresser top and clothes thrown around the floor. It doesn’t feel like a room he spends much time in, aside from sleeping and dressing in the morning.

You immediately think about what this all means for you. Whether he really meant what he said in the heat of the moment, if he really wants this to be a long-term thing or if it was just pillow talk. It doesn’t take you long to determine which one you want it to be.

There’s commotion on the other side of the closed door. You lean over the side of the bed, searching for something to put on before you just waltz out there naked. Ultimately, you pull on his blouse from last night.

You emerge from the bedroom squinting against the light in the room. The blinds in the living room are open, casting bright sunlight across the room and into the kitchen. You find Steve in front of the stove.

“Hey, there she is!” he announces happily. “Just in time for breakfast.”

Steve looks so comfortable in the kitchen, moving around quickly and efficiently, whereas you tend to blunder about. When you wander over to the island, you notice he’s already picked up his suit jacket, and laid it across the bar stool next to the one you choose.

Your underwear is nowhere to be seen.

You grin at his back, plopping down onto the bar stool. The metal is cold against your bare ass, nearly making you squeal and jump back up. “Is it a Sex on the Beach?”

He laughs gleefully. “Nah, if only. How was that, by the way?”

“The ice cream, or the porn?”

He turns to grin at you over his shoulder. “Both.”

He’s wearing glasses. Round wire frames that complement his face perfectly, making him look distinguished in his gray sweats and black t-shirt. Just like that, you’re spiraling. Suddenly, you’re picturing yourself being here, with him cooking breakfast in his glasses and PJ’s every morning, on and on into the future. Doing domestic shit, grocery shopping, dancing around in the kitchen at 3 am, kissing in the rain- well, you’ve already done that one.

But you can see it. That future, with him by your side, it’s right there. You just don’t know if it’s the one that he wants. You don’t really know how deep this runs for him.

Funny what just an accessory can do to your train of thought.

“Um.” You swallow. What was the question? “The ice cream was great. Still the best sundae I’ve ever had, by the way. The porn was bullshit, I didn’t get through twenty minutes. I just wanted to make you blush.”

“Brat.” He spins around, and plates an omelet right in front of you. You watch his face, tracing the easy smile he wears. “I hope you like it- but if you don’t, you better not say anything. I don’t think I could handle the pain of your rejection.” He looks up at you, hazel eyes shining gold in the sunlight. “You’re staring.”

“I-” you blink at him. You don’t fucking say. You open your mouth to ask- you want to ask what this is, what he feels, did he mean it. Do you want to do this again? Is this serious for you? Because it is for me, if you want it. You just don’t get that far.

“You’ve been staring since we were fourteen,” he chuckles, sliding you a fork.

That startles you. “Well,” you click your tongue. “I didn’t realize you were looking so closely.”

“Oh,” Steve shrugs, turning to place the pan in the sink. “Just since freshman year. When you read Juliet’s monologue in English class. Remember?”

You tilt your head. Vaguely. It was just a class project, where each person had to choose a Shakespearean monologue to recite in front of the class. You thought he only even became aware of you senior year.

Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name which is no part of thee, Take all myself.

“Are you telling me,” you say, palms flat on the counter as you peer at him incredulously, “you’ve liked me just as long as I’ve liked you?”

“Told you I’d get there, eventually.”

Your brain refuses to compute. You stare at his back, his tousled hair, and want to yank him toward you and squeeze him like one of those fucking squeaky toys that you get at the pet store. The ones the eyes pop out of.

Steve turns to you with a smirk, leaning across the counter to mirror you. He reaches forward to trace the mark he made on your neck, still tender, while mocking your pout back at you. His eyes crease at the corners, like they always do when he’s trying to be coy.

“Eat your breakfast, baby. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

(I see you, I see you, baby.)

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #roses*

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junsite · 6 months ago

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pinkie promise kisses.

투바투 범큐 ༝ gn reader 374 high school au fluff bsf2lover ༯ cw. kissing

it was days like these where you didn't know why everyone had disliked choi beomgyu; notorious reserved quiet boy, always giving cold glares to whoever dared to look at him.

days like these where you sat in his lap, slowly stroking the makeup brush across his eyelids and smudging the pigmented spots. days like these where you sat in comfortable silence, the only noise being the melody of his spotify playlist. days like these where you failed to notice how he gazed up at you longingly when you smiled in approval, giggling as you finished applying tint to his perfect lips. days like these where you both enjoyed the comfort of each other, no need for conversation.

you were beomgyu's best friend. only friend? yes. but the best one either way. it was almost cliché the way you had met. bumping into him at a convenience store and accidentally spilling all of his iced coffee all over him. you were so cute, cheeks flushed in embarrassment as you scrambled to grab tissues before the stain could soak in. it was a shame he was wearing a white tshirt.

every day after that it was like you saw beomgyu everywhere. you hadn't even realized he was in your same class until you were forced to sit next to him, a bright smile creeping onto your face, you're from the convenience store, right? i'm still so sorry about the coffee. he only glared, lips parting as he worked up an answer before you spoke again. i can buy you another one after school if you don't mind, you offered shyly.

you truly grew on him. your bubbly (but fierce) personality, always defending him from rude remarks, closely following behind him wherever he went. hallway glances turned to eating every lunch together, small talk turned to meaningful conversations about your futures, swing sets at the park turned to laying side by side on his bed, an earbud each as you listened to acoustic instrumental.

even now, as you sat in his lap, staring at his lips for a bit too long before nervously looking back up, brushing stray hairs out of his face.

the day, today, where beomgyu had kissed you like he'd wanted to for so long. you were shocked to say the least but didn't think about pulling away for a second. it was like flowers bloomed, the dim lamp on his nightstand creating a glow around you. beomgyu kissed you again, no words enough to make you understand his longing.

arms wrapped around your waist to pull you closer, soft hairs tickling your neck as he nuzzled into you, squeezing you tight.

beomgyu still had that white tshirt, tucked away in the corners of his closet. he cherished you more than you thought, a sunshine brought into his dull life. choi beomgyu loved you, and now he'll never let you forget it.

a/n i was a bit sleep deprived writing this so it might be a bit rushed lol. btw, english isn't my first language so i apologize for any errors. please enjoy!

#txt x reader #beomgyu x reader #txt fluff #txt soft thoughts #txt soft hours #txt scenarios #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu soft thoughts #beomgyu soft hours #beomgyu fluff #📹 큐아 𐙚 #prod. junsite

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 5 months ago

Note

Age gap!Bruce is so in love with his wife, I’m sure that he believes she can’t do nothing wrog. Like, he’s the type to brag about how amazing she’s to everybody.

I love your writing and this scenario in particular has me very interested bc I think is so original. Usually, I don’t like age gap bc writers tend to make reader a little childlike or with no personality, but age gap!reader is so unique that I love her so much.

I like to imagine one of Bruce’s exes, like Selina (I’m sorry, but I always remember how she left him at the altar. I love her but my heart breaks for Bruce) comes back to Gotham and everything is kinda awkward bc yes, they have this weird off and on relationship (they haven’t seen each other for more than a year), not string attached but serious at the same time. And suddenly, he’s married to a fucking pop-star and actress??

Even a one night stand seeing Bruce “the playboy” marrying reader.

I can see this with anyone who used to be in love or having feelings either for Bruce or reader. “That should be me” by Justin Bieber will be in their spotify wrapped

I think it was the hard launch of the YEAR. Everyone will be so shocked by it that it becomes an iconic and part of Gotham’s pop culture. They did an interview and suddenly, the next thing they knew?? They got married at a private ceremony where only close family and friends knew.

"This is a stunt even for you, Bruce," Lois scolded tapping her foot. "Honestly-"

Bruce held his hands up, "The only reason it's public now is because we got caught in public. She was perfectly happy to be a private thing."

"Bruce," she scoffed giving him a look, "I know she's an adult but still. You're old enough to be her dad-"

"Not unless I was 16 when she was born," Bruce snorted, "she's the same age Dick is. Damian is 9-"

Lois rolled her eyes and took a seat, "So what did your kids say?"

"Over all, they were fine with it. If not happy about it. But Jason had to make a scene about me dating his childhood crush and betraying him all over again for dramatic effect. And Damian had to lecture me about the security risk."

"Naturally," Lois said smiling. "Jon said Damian had a lot to say about it. That's how we heard about it."

This time it was Bruce's turn to roll his eyes. "Be nice to her-"

"Are you kidding?" Lois asked, slightly incredulous.

"No-"

"Why would I not be? She's Iconic, honestly."

"And better at managing her image than I am," Bruce chuckled.

"Sad, really," Lois observed dryly. "But also impressive."

"No one knows who she dates, where she donates, no one knows her net worth for sure... honestly if she didn't volunteer the information I'm not even sure I'd know her favorite color."

"I'm not surprised," Lois mused, "After watching her get ripped apart a few years ago."

"I don't-"

"You wouldn't," Loid allowed, "You didn't have editors that wanted you to write think pieces about it. And you didn't work in an office that had a betting pool to her inevitable suicide or addiction spiral."

Bruce winced. He didn't remember it. Not directly, but you'd talked about it. It was part of why he agreed to letting you keep things private. You liked keeping things quiet. A separation between your public face and your private one. It fucked you up. And no one protected you. You'd had to handle it alone- Sure, you had your team but that wasn't the same as having PEOPLE to fall back on.

"I'll be nice," Lois assured him, "Just don't be a creep or I'll sic Clark on you later."

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #ask answered #minors dni #reader insert #age gap!reader

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pradabambie · 8 months ago

Text

part 2 to this ask - rafexreader fight.

i'm finally back!! yay

let me know if you like this and remember request are always open <3 help your girl out in the creativity department hehe

it's been two weeks since you last saw or talked to rafe, and he was losing it.

normally, you two were practically inseparable, spending every moment together, a routine rafe had grown accustomed to.

his attempts to reach you were relentless.

he spammed your phone with calls and texts, even emails. he not only contacted you, but all your friends. he even showed up at your house a couple times, your parents insisting on the instructions you gave them: you didn't want to see him.

rafe even visited places you frequented, hoping for an encounter. today, luck was on his side. he spotted you sorting through the apples in your little pink gym shorts, and tapped your shoulder, careful not to startle you as you focused on the music coming out of your headphones.

you looked up at him, rolled your eyes and pressed pause on the spotify app "leave me alone, rafe" you asserted.

but as then you looked into his eyes, worn and red, dark bags under them. his hair was messy, and you could tell he hadn't shaved in a couple of days. his plea cut through the air.

"please, i'm beggin you. let me buy you a coffee or something. i need to talk to you. i need you. i miss you." his words were interrupted by a shaky sigh that left your lips.

"okay," you said, staring at him expressionlessly.

"what?"

"yes, okay, rafe. pick me up at six, and i'll have one cup of coffee with you. that's it."

a sudden grin lit up his face. "yes! yes, of course. i'll pick you up—"

"i have to go. see you later," you cut him off, not allowing him to finish.

the hours leading up to the meeting felt like an eternity for rafe. this coffee date represented his chance to mend things.

at exactly six, rafe, dressed in a shirt he remembered you liked, stood outside your door. you noticed his effort—neatly combed hair, a hint of cologne.

you greeted him with a nod, signaling readiness to get it over with. rafe, attempting to conceal his nerves, led you to his car.

the drive to the cafe was filled with awkward silences. once there, you both ordered drinks, enveloped in the familiar aroma of coffee. rafe took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts.

"i don't even know where to start," he admitted, eyes focused on his coffee cup.

you remained silent, waiting for him to continue. rafe took a moment to choose his words carefully, realizing the significance of what he was about to say.

"look, i messed up, okay? i took you for granted, i realize that. i miss us, and i can't stand being without you," he confessed, his gaze pleading for understanding.

you listened quietly, sipping your coffee, contemplating whether his words carried genuine remorse or were just another attempt to manipulate your feelings.

"i've been reflecting on everything, and i want to change. i want to be the person you deserve. please, give me another chance."

your response was measured. "i want to believe you, rafe, i really do. but how do i know this isn't another one of your little games?"

he pulled a red velvet box from his pocket, revealing a silver ring with your birthstone right in the center. "i got this for you. i know this doesn’t fix things, but it's a start. i remember you talking about a promise ring or something like that."

your eyes lit up looking at the ring, you had to admit rafe's good taste remained intact.

“it's gorgeous, rafe, but you can't buy me with this, okay?"

"i know. it's just a little visual aid. i want you for life. i promise to show you i'm committed to this, to you."

you paused, studying his words. the silence heightened rafe's anxiety.

"let's just say you're on probation," you finally said. "but i swear, rafe, mess up once, and—"

before you could finish, strong arms wrapped around you, lifting you off your seat, showering you with kisses. "yes, baby, anything you say," rafe declared, filled with newfound hope.

#mine #rafe #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #obx #rafe cameron blurb #rafe concepts #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron dark

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hwaslayer · 10 months ago

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project: make you love me (jyh) | thirteen.

♣︎ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: yunho can’t stand how you’re so wrapped up in the notorious campus fuckboy, park seonghwa. he would gladly love you the way you deserve, despite being shy, awkward and the complete opposite of seonghwa. thus, when he finds himself spending more time with you over literature reviews and random study sessions, he decides to take on the challenge to win you over.

—pairing: jeong yunho x f. reader x park seonghwa

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers/friends to lovers, college au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 5.9k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, date with yunho!! 🥰, yunho and oc talk a bit about family dynamics, oc meets his mom and aunt <33, just a sprinkle of seonghwa, lots of sweet kisses, making out, breast play, unprotected sex, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, clit play, teasing, a lil bit of a handjob, multiple orgasms (2 lol), praising, post-sex cuddles!, sorry if i missed anything - quickly edited 😅

"Why are you doing that?" Yunho laughs, grabbing at your hand and giving it a gentle squeeze from the driver's seat to prevent you from fiddling with your fingers even more.

"I'm nervous." You pout and Yunho can't help but squish your cheeks.

"It's gonna be fine." Yunho smiles before shifting his attention back to the road. "Mom couldn't stop texting me about how excited she was to finally meet you."

"Me?" You ask him, almost in disbelief. "What if she sees me and she changes her mind!"

"She won't. She wouldn't do that over—" Yunho pauses and you can see the tip of his ear turn red, a faint rosy tint also creeping up to the surface of his cheeks.

"Over?"

"Nevermind."

"Hey, that's not fair." You playfully pinch him on the bicep, making him chuckle in his response. "Say it, Jeong Yunho."

"Not the government name." You glare at him and he shakes his head in defeat. "I was just gonna say she wouldn't do that over someone I'm sure about." Your eyes widen at the response before you smile and giggle.

"You mean that?"

"Of course I do." He laughs, placing a kiss on the surface of your hand. "So trust me when I say don't worry, okay? They'll adore you."

"Okay." Your bottom lip pokes out a bit. Today, Yunho was taking you on a date. To where? He wouldn't tell you. He wouldn't budge, no. But, you do know you're meeting his mom and aunt over a small dinner at the house, your nerves running wild since the moment you've hit the road. It's been awhile since your last relationship, and you really, really adore Yunho.

You don't wanna mess this up.

You are in love with him, and you hope they like you just like he promises they will. You are already hoping to build a good relationship with them, especially if you plan to be around. You can't help but think of your own mom and sister, hoping you'll be able to be plan something soon for them so they can officially meet Yunho in the right circumstances.

Since you're in Yunho's hometown, you aren't too familiar with what's around. You keep your eyes fixed on the scenery passing you by, listening to Yunho softly hum to the music in the background while he continues to drive off to the first destination. He seems to be taking you to the outskirts, driving deeper to the point where the small city fades into the back while the greenery begins to take over. He has to drive on a narrow path before he's navigating through a beaten, dirt path and into a lot that is surrounded by apple trees.

"Yunho." You continue to look out the window as he pulls into a spot in between two trees, a few other cars lining down the aisle.

"Yes?" He shuts off the car and unbuckles his seatbelt, looking at you with a sly smirk on his face.

"What're we doing?"

"Apple picking." You squeal and clap your hands, no longer able to contain your excitement. You had briefly mentioned going fruit picking to Yunho, stating it as a bucket list item of yours. He swings your door open to help you out of the car before leading you to the bins to place your apples in. Yunho hands you one, pleading for you to try and not fill it up too much so the bin doesn't get too heavy. He leads you down the open trail, already picking at a few nice apples along the branches. You stick closer to the ones in close proximity to your height, eyes lighting up every time you're able to snag a pretty one off the branches.

"Aw, I love this." You giggle, picking a few more off of the nearby branches. "They all look too pretty to eat."

"I know. I'm grabbing a few for my mom and aunt." Yunho effortlessly grabs a few off the taller branches, placing them gently into the bin. "Wanna save some for your mom and sister?"

"Just a few. I'm not even sure when if I'll see them in time. Otherwise Soobin, Chaery and Seungmo can eat them." He smiles.

"Sounds like a plan. Are they around for break?"

"In and out. I think the person who is staying here the most is Soobin. Chaery and Seungmin have a couple of plans with their families."

"Mm."

"What about Yeo?"

"He'll mostly be at the apartment." He caresses your chin. "What about you?"

"Ah, my family isn't big on doing things. We'll celebrate for the holidays but that's all."

"You should. I'd love to meet your mom and sister again.. under better circumstances." You laugh.

"You will." You and Yunho continue to walk down the path, each stopping to take photos of each other under the crisp, afternoon sunlight. Once you're satisfied with the amount of apples in your bin, you take them to the weighing scale and pay for the apples before grabbing a small snack of freshly baked apple fritters and tea. You and Yunho sit at a picnic table to enjoy the sun slowly settling below the horizon. Yunho shows you his new lockscreen while you eat; a picture of you holding an apple next to your cheek while you cutely smile.

"You're really cute." He smiles at his phone just before tossing his wrappers into the trash can.

"You take the best photos of me. You sure you aren't into photography or anything?" He shakes his head.

"No. Just like taking pictures of you, thats all." You blush. "We should probably get going. There's one more place I wanna take you before we head to my house for dinner."

"Where?" He smirks.

"It's just 15 mins away. I think you'll like it. We'll only be there for an hour since the event is gonna end soon."

"Hm, okay Yunho. Surprise me some more." You tease with a giggle.

"I will." He kisses you on the temple before holding your hand and heading back to the car. The sun hasn't completely set yet, but the skies are filled with orange and red hues as you continue to drive along to your next destination. Yunho drives off to a nearby park that holds rollerskating events in the evening, except tonight would be its last night before it's converted to an ice skating rink. Yunho talks a bit about how he spent a lot of time at this park with his friends when he was young, and how they've done a lot to make the park nicer over the years. Now, they hold plenty of events that bring the community together.

When he pulls into another lot, you can already hear the music blaring from within the park. It's muffled due to the trees surrounding the area, but the park is well lit even though the sun hasn't fully set. There are string lights hanging from tree to tree, even around the picnic tables that are planted around the area. As Yunho continues to walk down the path, you see a circular rink where people are rollerskating. There is a DJ blasting music off to the side, and a booth where you can rent skates.

"Rollerskating?" Your eyes light up. "Yunho?!"

"Thought we could give it a try together before they get rid of it."

"You're the best." You tippy-toe to wrap your arms around his neck, planting a sweet kiss against his lips. His large hands come to squeeze your side, holding the kiss for as long as he can before he slightly pulls away.

"Actually, I wanted to ask you something." He brushes the hair away from your face, thumb coming down to caress your cheek. You feel the butterflies swirling in your stomach when Yunho looks at you, his touch simple but warm, safe.

Comforting.

"What is it, Yunho?"

"I just really, really like you, Y/N. You make me happy, and you make me feel safe. I don't feel like I have to be someone I'm not, and that's the best feeling. I don't know, you just.. bring out the best in me. It sounds cliché, but I mean it when I say I haven't felt this way before."

"I feel the same." You caress his jaw. You would have never known that asking Yunho for help would lead to this— would lead to him being a special person in your life, someone you can't imagine your days without.

"So, I-I was hoping that, maybe, you could be my girlfriend?" You giggle and hug him again, nodding to give him his answer.

"I'd love to be." He cups your cheeks and brings you in for another kiss.

"Phew. I was actually losing my shit on the way here." You laugh as Yunho leads the way to the rental booth. "I kept rehearsing it in my head."

"Why?! Did you think I was gonna reject you?"

"Uh, yeah?" He gives you a look.

"No, never."

"Never, hm?" He teases before shifting his attention to the staff member at the booth. He pays for the rentals and hands you your skates, giving you the green light to walk over to the nearest bench and slip them in. You used to rollerskate when you were younger, but it's been years and you've only tried inline skating. Yunho already seems to be more pro than you because he's standing on his two feet comfortably, while your knees are shaking and you can't seem to fully stand up. He laughs as he comes closer, creating a bit of distance to give you some space to get used to the feeling. "Slowly, baby. Shift your weight a bit." You pout as you continue to practice, finally getting into a rhythm after a good 10 minutes.

"I think I should be okay." You say, comfortably skating over to Yunho without wobbling around. He nods and takes your hand, slowly skating over to join the crowd at the rink. "How are you literally so good at everything?"

"Nah." He laughs. "We'll go slow, okay? Everyone's going at their own pace." You smile, trusting in Yunho to take care of you. You easily begin to get comfortable with the music blasting in the background, skating alongside your man as the rest of the crowd enjoys themselves. Today was such an eventful day that you're wishing it never ends. All you find yourself doing while skating is laughing with Yunho and squealing every time you feel like you're going a little too fast and lose your balance.

You feel like you're on cloud nine and you wish you can stay in this moment forever with him.

The hour wraps up quick, and the DJ is having to end the night with a bittersweet speech about how he'll miss playing for this event. You and Yunho return the skates to the booth and slip back into your shoes, rushing over to the car before the lot could get too packed from everyone leaving at once. You laugh when Yunho quickly reverses and heads out of the lot, joking about how you've never seen him move that fast. When you're finally out and away from traffic, Yunho relaxes a little and takes you back into the central part of town for dinner.

"Yuyu?" He lets out a small chuckle hearing the Chaery-granted nickname slip from your lips. Nonetheless, he's grown a liking to it and loves having a nickname you two enjoy.

"Hm?" He hums.

"Do you remember anything about your dad?" You flat out pose the question without thinking. He doesn't answer right away so you immediately follow-up with a— "Wait, I'm sorry. We don't have to do this right now if you aren't ready."

"No, love. It's fine. I'm okay talking about it, it's just not a common topic for me." He flashes you a small, reassuring smile. "To answer your question, no, I really don't remember anything about him. I remember seeing him come and go in the apartment we lived in when I was younger, and I remember seeing going with him to see some of his side of the family. But even then, those bits are blurred. I can't imagine what he looks like now, I can't make out a height. I can't make out much of his features." Your heart sinks.

"I'm so sorry, Yunho."

"It's okay. You don't have to apologize." He shrugs. "Part of me wishes I knew a bit more than what I know, but then I think about my mom and how she never gave up on me. She gave me everything even when times were tough. She treated me well and raised me well. She never tried to raise her voice at me and she never scolded me the way other parents would. She knew how to communicate with me even when I was small. I guess I never really needed him in the first place. I didn't feel the lack of love or support anywhere."

"That's amazing. I can tell you adore your mom to bits. It must have been tough for her, and I can only imagine."

"It was. It was really tough. But, we got through it together. I tried to fill in the empty spaces as much as possible."

"You're her world, that's more than enough. I know she appreciates you so much." He smiles at you, thumb running over the back of your hand. "There's nothing that could replace you, or any other love that could be better."

"My aunt says I kinda look like him." He chuckles. "But, she says she's glad I'm the complete opposite. My mom likes to remind her that I'm hers only." You laugh.

"How cute. You are hers."

"I know you said your dad comes around, but how is he with your mom nowadays?"

"They're good. I mean, like I said, they're better this way. They still bicker but it's not like before." You let out a soft sigh. "At first, she didn't understand why my sister and I still wanted to see him and have a relationship with him after the divorce. She was hurt, I guess. After everything they've been through. But, my dad never neglected us. He was still a good dad. He still is, even with the distance. He tries."

"That's good. Sometimes, they stop when all that goes down so it's good he still tries and is present in your lives."

"Yeah, I think so. Eventually, my mom understood that we still wanted him to be in our lives no matter what. And, I think she could see he felt the same."

"That's nice. Do you see him for holidays?"

"He'll pop in for a little." Yunho nods. "Even though I'm nervous, I can't wait to meet your mom and aunt." You shift the topic back to his family.

"Hm, really?" He chuckles. "I can't wait for you to meet them, too. Especially since we're right around the corner."

"Already?!" He nods.

"Already. She told me they prepped a lot of food so.. should be fun."

"Now I'm even more nervous." You whine a bit and he laughs.

"It'll be fine, baby. Trust me." The petname makes your stomach do flips, but you can't really think about that now. He pulls around the corner and into the driveway of the 5th house down the street. The lights in the house are all on, and you can faintly see shadows moving around in what you assume is the kitchen area. "Ready?" He unbuckles his seatbelt and gives you a soft smile.

"Mhm." Yunho comes to assist you in the passenger's side, grabbing the bag of apples from behind your seat to bring into the house. He takes his keys from the carabiner hanging on his jeans, unlocking the door to a fairly loud house— mainly due to the TV in the living room.

"Hello?" Yunho calls out and you hear his aunt scream in excitement.

"Yunho! You made it." His mom greets him first before his aunt does. She looks at you with a soft smile, immediately welcoming you into her arms.

"This is Y/N." He steps aside to let you finish greeting his mom and his aunt, the both of them wrapping you into big, tight hugs.

"She's a pretty one, how did you manage to snag her?" His aunt teases, making his mom smack her on the arm in response.

"Yeah, right?" Yunho playfully agrees anyway.

"Come on, Y/N! Make yourself feel at home. Food is ready, I'm sure you two are starving."

"Thank you." You smile at her and follow her into the dining area. The table is set nicely, with a few candles in the center to help bring in some warmth and those winter season smells you love so much. You almost feel bad that they've cooked so much food, but Yunho is happy and he's excited to dig in. He pulls out your chair before sitting next to you, hand on your thigh to give it a comforting, reassuring squeeze.

"Y/N, please. Go ahead and start. What drinks do you two want?" His aunt asks.

"I'll help you."

"I'm okay with water. Thank you." Yunho stands to help his aunt with the drinks, his mom sitting in front of you with a smile on her face.

"It really is so nice to finally meet you. Yunho doesn't stop talking about you." You hear Yunho clear his throat as he hands you a cup of water.

"Not like that. I take some breaks in between." He jokes.

"He definitely doesn't." His mom corrects him, handing you the bowl of rice. "It's cute to see him all shy like this. He really likes you, and I can see why." You giggle.

"Oh, well. I can say the same." You help yourself to some rice before passing more food around the table. "Yunho's very sweet. He helped me a lot with one of our classes."

"That's cute." His aunt plops onto her seat and laughs. "Tell us about yourself, Y/N. We've been dying to meet you." You laugh, proceeding to tell them more about yourself, your mom, dad and sister. As you've continued to talk about your childhood and how things have been over the years, you find yourself comfortable enough to open up about both the highs and lows being with your family. It was nice to hear Yunho's mom and aunt reassure you, telling you it was nice that your family still got along no matter the circumstance.

Then, you and Yunho talked a little bit more about school and how you two got close over literature class. You shyly praise him in front of his family, telling them how one of your favorite things about him was his humor and how laidback he's always been. Yunho's mom tells you that Yunho has always remained the same throughout the years— that he's always been the same 'sweet, affectionate, funny-boned' boy she's always adored.

After a good, long dinner, you and Yunho help clean up in the kitchen, tagteaming on dishes while his mom and aunt cleaned the table and around the counters. His mom packs you both some leftovers, telling you to share with your roommates. She packs it neatly into separate bags for you and Yunho, handing it over with a sweet smile on her face.

"It's late. You should've just stayed." You hug Yunho's aunt before hugging his mom. She keeps her arm around you, gently rubbing at your back as she continues to softly scold Yunho.

"It's not that late, mom. I'll be okay."

"Still! It's dark out and you have a two hour drive ahead of you."

"I know, I know. Next time." He looks at his mom. "May I have my girlfriend back?"

"Maybe." His mom teases back. "Promise me you'll stay next time."

"Promise." Yunho winks at his mom as he finally gets a hold of your hand and leads you out to the car.

"Mhm. I saw that. Seriously, come back soon, okay? You two better stay here next time." His aunt says, making you laugh as you wave.

"We will. I'll make sure of it." You respond.

"I really like her." His aunt says loud enough for you to hear, causing you to giggle to yourself while you settle into the passenger's seat.

"Yunho." His mom calls out just as he's about to step in, one leg already thrown into the car.

"Huh?"

"Drive safely."

"Of course. I'll tokyo drift all the way back to the apartment, how's that? Gets me there faster."

"Jeong Yunho!" She playfully scolds him.

"Kidding. I will!" He laughs and waves her off, finally getting into the car.

"Stop teasing your mom like that." You chuckle.

"It's funny, isn't it?"

"You're too much." Yunho smiles and kisses your hand just before holding it.

"Mm, wanna watch a movie when we get back? If you're not too tired."

"I'm down."

"You're gonna fall asleep on the way, aren't you?"

"Maybe." You shyly admit. You are feeling pretty exhausted after your day, but you're trying your hardest not to give in so you can continue to keep Yunho company on the long drive back. "But, I'm trying to stay up so I can keep you company.

"It's okay, baby." He says softly, eyes glued onto the road ahead. "If you wanna nap, you should nap."

"What about you?" You yawn, head leaning back against the headrest.

"I'm used to these drives. I'll be okay. Promise."

"Okay." You feel your eyes getting heavy. It isn't long before you fall asleep, Yunho turning down the music and turning up the heat. Quite frankly, he is tired. But, he wasn't lying when he said he was used to these drives. Plus, overall, he does enjoy driving. It soothes him, relaxes him.

He can't wait to get back home and cuddle with you over a movie.

You're his, and he is yours.

The thought alone makes Yunho feel so giddy inside.

After a somewhat grueling 2 hours, Yunho finally pulls into the familiar lot. You had woken up about 30 minutes ago, and Yunho is glad you did or else he'd feel terrible having to wake you up from a good slumber in the car. The both of you make your way back up to his apartment, finding that Yeosang isn't home. The apartment is dark, but warm. It's spotless and it's incredibly quiet.

You make your way to the restroom to quickly freshen up and change into Yunho's shirt for the night. You brush your teeth and finish up your bedtime routine before stepping out, seeing Yunho sitting on the living room floor while flipping through the movie options.

"I'll be back." He points to the TV. "I kinda just settled on that new Leave the World Behind movie."

"Sounds good to me." He quickly eyes his shirt on you, no bottoms. And god, it instantly drives him crazy. Before he could fall too deep into his feelings, Yunho waddles off to the bathroom to get ready for the evening and changed into some sweats and a shirt. By the time he heads back out to the living room, you've shut off all the lights, and you've paused the movie right at the beginning. Your eyes are fixed on your phone, and a few texts come in. But, Yunho doesn't really pay much attention to it and instead plops onto the ground right in front of you.

chaery: hello?! I SAW YOUR STORY. did he finally ask you to be his gf?! holy shit!!

seungmin: y/n's tied down now ayeeee

soobin: congrats!! when's the wedding!!

seonghwa: i see you're around for break.

seonghwa: wanted to see you really quickly and apologize. you don't have to do anything or say anything, but at least hear me out.

You roll your eyes at the two texts from Seonghwa, quickly responding to your roommates before locking your phone and tossing it aside.

"You don't wanna sit up here?" Your arms hang over Yunho as your chin rests on his head.

"I need to stretch." He laughs. "Sorry pretty. I'll be right here." He resumes the movie just as you kiss the top of his head and switch your attention to the screen.

The both of you are equally invested in the movie, even as you continue to hang over Yunho while he holds onto your arms. You've barely even reached halfway when catch yourself ogling at Yunho's hands and the veins that run through them. You peek over to see how glued he is to the movie, eyeing his side profile before placing a gentle kiss on his temple, cheek. He giggles a bit before looking up at you, the mood in the room doing a complete flip when he sees the look in your eyes.

It's the same look he had when he was checking you out in his shirt.

"What's up, cutie?"

"I just wanna say thank you for today."

"You don't have to thank me."

"I do. I really enjoyed it, so thank you, babe."

"Of course. Is there anything else on your mind?"

"Just wanna kiss you."

"That's it?" He teases, watching as you dip forward to close in on his lips.

"Maybe." You whisper just as you kiss him. At first, the kiss is sweet, innocent. The next moment, it's deeper, more intense— your tongue dancing around with his while the movie is a long-gone thought in the background. Yunho gently bites onto your bottom lip before pulling back; eyes full of lust meeting yours.

"Do you wanna move to the room?" He licks his lips while his eyes dart from your eyes, back down to your lips.

"Mhm." You respond softly, hands still cupping Yunho's cheeks. He smiles and plants a quick kiss to your lips before standing to his feet. He shuts off the movie and helps you up from the couch, leading you to his room. Yunho shuts his door, watching as you climb into bed and under the covers. It's not long before he joins you— slightly hovering over you as he pulls the covers over his body.

"Baby." He calls lowly.

"Yeah?" Your fingers are tangled at the ends of his hair, eyes scanning every feature on Yunho's face— his long lashes, his pink lips, his doe eyes, his soft, black hair. You adore everything about Yunho, and you can't help but melt in his hold.

"Is it okay if I keep going..?" You nod quietly as Yunho leans in to meet your lips again, hand coming up underneath your shirt to caress your bare skin. His hand his warm against the surface, and it's enough to light up your entire body; fireworks going off every time Yunho deepens the kiss a little more. He gives your side a squeeze, lips now trailing down to the corner of your lips, your jaw.

Neck.

Yunho takes his time on your neck, though. And god, do you love every bit of it. You squirm underneath him, teeth nibbling on your bottom lip when you feel Yunho's tongue glide across the surface before gently sucking on it, when you feel him slowly rocking his hips against you. He catches the way you continue to bite onto your lip, smirking against your skin just as he places another kiss at the base.

Down to your collarbone.

"Can I?" He whispers, slowly lifting up the edge of your shirt. You nod, lifting yourself up to help Yunho tug the shirt over your head and onto the floor. He takes a moment to admire your bare chest, eyes glowing at how beautiful you look underneath him. "So pretty." His eyes are now glued onto yours as he continues to leave a trail of kisses down your chest. His tongue glides over to a nipple, popping the bud into his mouth before working his tongue in a circular motion. You let out a small whimper and Yunho feels the blood rush straight down to his dick.

He can't wait to have all of you. To have a taste, to feel you around him.

As his and his only.

He moves to the next bud, sucking gently before repeating the circular motions around your nipple— pulling back with a small pop. You feel the goosebumps heighten on your arms, the pleasure already surging through your veins.

"Taking these off." Yunho says as he makes his way down, finger slightly dipping underneath the waistband of your pjay bottoms. You watch as he sheds off your bottoms and panties, tossing them off to the side to join your [his] shirt on the floor. You feel incredibly shy being this bare, this vulnerable, in front of Yunho. But, the feeling dissipates when he smiles in awe; his large hands caressing your thighs and giving them a kiss. "You're so beautiful." He plants a kiss to your inner thigh. "Wanna make you feel good, love." He watches for your response as he softly nibbles on your inner thigh.

"Please." You respond, almost whimpering for him to continue. Your breath hitches when you feel his thumb graze over your folds then press on your clit. He starts to rub your already sensitive nub in slow, circular motions to test the waters, before diving in with his tongue against you. His other hand is gripping your thigh, keeping your legs spread open so he could get you in all angles, taste every drop of you. "Yunho." You breathily moan, hands tangled in his hair as he continues to lap at your folds and suck on your clit. He proceeds with slipping a finger inside of you, pumping at a slow and steady pace while continuing to work his tongue on you. It's not long before he's slipping another digit in— this time, watching your reaction from in between your thighs, biting onto his lip every time you squirm and moan for him to keep going.

Yunho finds, at this very moment, that he can't get enough of you. He wants to be the only one who keeps making you feel good, and he wants to keep hearing you like this. He wants to be everything for you, as long as you'll let him.

"All this for me, hm?" He hums, feeling his digits coated in your slickness. He quickly removes his fingers and replaces the pleasure with his tongue again, allowing you to grind against him when he picks up his pace— lapping at your folds and flicking at your clit; sucking every drop of you he can get.

"Oh—Yunho!” You almost yell his name, hands now gripping his hair as you continue to grind against his mouth. He lets out a groan against you, sending the vibrations straight to your core. "Oh shit, I'm—" Your statement is broken because your mind is fuzzy with your orgasm approaching quick. You're probably gripping on Yunho's hair a little too tightly without realizing but he doesn't mind. Especially when your face contorts in pleasure, a beautiful, strangled moan leaving your lips as you twitch in his grip. He keeps your legs opened, mouth still latched onto you until you've come down from your high. "Oh my god." You mumble and Yunho chuckles.

"You okay, baby?" You nod just as Yunho leans forward to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his lips. "Wanna feel you." He takes your hand and presses it against his hardened cock. He hisses at your touch, shutting his eyes for a brief moment as you palm him through his sweats. "See what you do to me? Want all of you."

"You have me, Yunho." You tug at his shirt, giving him leverage to shed it off and toss it on the floor. "You have me." You repeat. He simply sheds off his sweats and boxers, his cock springing free from its confines. You can't help but ogle at how he's built— his toned abs, his biceps, his pretty, thick cock. You help yourself and continue to stroke him for a bit, pumping at a slow pace while your thumb spreads the pre-cum all over his tip. He lets out a shaky breath just as he lowers himself onto you, planting kisses along your jaw and neck.

"Fuck. I don't have any condoms." He pauses and looks at you, but you respond by shaking your head.

"It's fine. I'm on birth control. And clean. Promise." You reassure him, knowing you made sure to get tested after Seonghwa just in case. He nods and takes his length in his hand, gently tapping it against your folds and nudging the tip against your clit to tease you.

"Ready?"

"Yes. Need you." Yunho wastes no time pushing himself into you slowly, burying himself to the hilt. He pauses for a minute to adjust to the feeling, giving you a moment to take him in. His forehead is pressed against yours as he lays a kiss on the tip of your nose, moving down to your lips. He holds the kiss for a second before parting, savoring the feeling of your lips against his for the brief moment.

Yunho begins to pick up his pace, letting out a small groan when he feels how tight you are. He loves seeing your back slightly arch, the goosebumps forming on your skin when he touches you lightly— lips grazing the surface of your collarbones, chest, just ghosting over your nipples. You moan his name when he quickly sucks on your buds, snapping his hips at a faster pace. The room is filled with sounds of skin against skin, wet kisses and moans that are nothing short of pornographic. Yunho thrusts hard one, two, three times, his mouth swallowing the loud moan you let out.

"God, you feel so good around me." He says. "Like you were meant for me."

"I am." You cutely respond and Yunho lets out a shaky breath.

"Mmmfuck." Yunho lets out just as he takes his thumb to your clit. You feel the tingle down your spine, the pleasure building in your gut, as Yunho rolls his hips in a steady fashion; enough to drive you crazy, pushing you close to the edge. "Gotta cum for me, baby."

"So close." You moan, gently biting at his bottom lip and tugging it back. "I'm so close, babe."

"That's my girl." He says, taking note of how you continue to squirm in his hold, your walls clenching around him.

That's it.

You're my babygirl.

So good for me.

He continues to praise you in your ear until he finally tips you over the edge, eyes shut close as you let out a string of moans— calling his name like a mantra. Yunho feels you squeeze him, walls wrapping him so tightly he might just lose himself right at this moment. So, he locks his hands with yours— holding it against the pillow as he thrusts into you and chases his own high.

Luckily, Yeosang hasn't walked in yet or else he's not really sure how Yeo would react to hearing your loud moans. Yunho doesn't care much to shush you right now, though. He loves hearing it. He's basking in all of this, all of you.

"Y/N—" He groans. "Baby, where do you want me?"

"Inside, please." You're finally meeting his gaze with those doe-eyes of yours and Yunho lets himself go. He moans as his hips stutter, coating your walls as he releases and fills you up. It takes a moment before he comes back down from his orgasm, Yunho looking at you through hooded eyes before lazily planting a kiss on your lips.

"You okay?" He whispers, brushing the hair away from your face.

"Mhm." You kiss him again before he leaves the covers, snatching a piece of tissue from his desk to clean you up.

"I'll grab you some water. Do you want anything else, love?" You shake your head and slip back into his shirt.

"No, thank you." He smiles while throwing on his boxers and sweats, walking out to grab some cold water. He comes back shortly, shutting his door before handing you the water. You take a few gulps before you're satisfied, leaving the water aside to slip under the covers and get comfortable. Yunho immediately pulls you into his arms; one arm around your neck, with the other wrapped around your waist. "You're so warm." He chuckles.

"Good. As long as you're okay." He kisses your forehead. "Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"You’re everything to me.”

♣︎ taglist: @s-nsanshine @soupbinlily @tyongff-ff @jiminiscricket @g1g1l @staytinyinmybpack @woomyteez @gfksz @bitchwhytho @savluvsmingi @thisisntmyrightera @hyukssunflower @miriamxsworld @tmtxtf @kuromibabe04 @lmnhead @carrietwrites @tournesol155 @persphonesorchid @txt-yaomi @mxnsxngie @h-nji @mundayoonimnida @jalapeno-princess @nakiiko @asjkdk @kunikku @idkwgoh @kyeos4ng @agust-d2 @araknoid @bintificreads @primoppang @betray-the-light @aurorasjoongie @wineyoungie @yunholuvrsblog @mingigiggles @jaerisdiction @ignoretheskies @luminouskalopsia @naeviscall @vixensss @choisansplushie @arya9111 @my-lightspirit @dazednconfusion @astro-doll-the-star @faesmingi

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6okuto · 2 years ago

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heyy l love ur all your touchstarved hcs and I was wondering if you could write anything for ais? if you’ve done him already could you do leander? thank youu <3

GENERAL AIS HCS

gn!reader | OF COURSEE my babygirl & thank u omg IM GLAD U GUYS LIKE THEM !!🫶 i'll probably make a separate leander post + posts for the others too tbh

you see it in the demo but he's so so happy to see you get along with princess + any other pets 🙁 personally i need a scene where they go to you instead of him and he pretends to be offended.

"after all i've done for you?" he asks before squatting beside you. his eyes flicker over to you before he joins in petting them. "guess i can't blame you, though."

ais teaching them tricks and grinning and saying good job and laughing when they jump on him for a reward. him teaching princess a trick and secretly being very excited to show you because he wants to see your reaction🙁💔

ONE LAST PET NOTE but i need to know what other names he's thought of because he totally looks like he'd give a big scary pet the silliest name ever. peak entertainment for him

if you know any other languages he'd love to learn some phrases!! yes i mean insults for others and nicknames for you. ais loves using them on like,, leander,, who's like What? so he can go "Wouldn't you like to know."

would be very amused if you dyed your hair to match his. calls you a copycat but if you threatened to redye it he'd get more annoying (said lovingly)

does the thing where he leans in really close as if he's gonna kiss you then doesn't. he reaches to grab something behind you and moves away while grinning

he likes listening to you talk about your interests and makes sure to remember important details. casually osmosis's (???) your interests and opinions even if he's never touched it himself

pulling him closer by his clothes or necklaces gets him. Interested.

the pocky game. he takes huge bites and kisses you or gets so incredibly close everyone's just like oh shut up. takes the stick that's a centimeter long between his fingers and goes "i think we got an inch left"

the type of guy who if you wordlessly hugged him would be like "miss me that much?" but have a noticeably firm hold around you because he Is a little worried about why you're hugging him. if you sincerely say yes, his eyes and voice soften when he says "well, good thing i'm here now."

he's confident and totally trusts you but he also finds it incredibly amusing to walk up and kiss you or wrap an arm around your waist if he sees someone try hitting on you. asks "hey, babe, who's this?" while staring right at them. Won't be nice if the person's an ass though

not afraid of pda. you could literally be clinging on to him and he wouldn't mind.

one of the guys who'd carry your silly looking bag without hesitation

you could say "oh try this," about a silly little heart headband and he'd let you put it on as long as he can give You one. "now we match," he says with a grin. take a picture together and set it as his lock screen and he won't change it for ages

looks like a guy who will drape himself on top of you if you're in bed or on the couch. the type of guy who when you say you need to go pee says okay i'll come with you before you shove him

^ likes it when you hold him and just play with his hair or trace things along is back. he plays that game where he tries to guess what you're writing and is ? weirdly good at it ?

if you made a playlist for him he'd listen to it whenever he misses you

also if you have spotify he always checks your profile. you say "i need to know who's liking my playlists" and he's like yeah they must have a crush on you. it's literally him though

sends you shit like this and says you @ me / us / etc because he's annoying and also correct. ais at the peak of the "you want me so bad" jokes would be on top of the world

#touchstarved game #touchstarved #ais x reader #touchstarved ais #🧾nia.answers #<3 anon #i want him....#someone remind me to add these to a masterlist #ill do it in 3 hours when im back from essay writing. oh my god #q #nia + touchstarved

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slashingdisneypasta · 11 months ago

Text

Spotify Wrapped Prompts !

Sorry it took me a week!! 😅 But here they are, for those of you who requested in the comments section ^^ (Those of you who requested in the ask box, I will answer you individually cuz its just easier ^^ )

Some are much longer then others. Some are just sentences. Its just whatever came to mind regarding to song! And no, I'm not giving you the song XD Just a line or two. If you wanna do sleuthing that's your prerogative but its mostly country and I know that's not everyone's cuppa tea 😅😅😅 Without further ado- here we go!

Included down below; Professor Ratigan (3), Judge Claude Frollo (6+7), Bill Sykes (13), Percival C McLeach (14), Wheezy Weasel (39), Hades (66) and Jafar (77).

3. Professor Ratigan Prompt 🎶'If you go down, I'm goin' down too'🎶

"You are my husband. If you go down, I go down with you. There are no if's and's or but's about it."

"My dear... That's not going to happen."

"I know- I know." Do you? You should, because he's so smart and you trust him, but still there's a nagging itch in the back of your mind telling you that one of these days one of these things is gonna fail. Taking a deep breath, you squeeze his hands in yours. "I just... want you to know."

With one of those dark and sinister smirks on his face, Ratigan gives you a kiss on the forehead; speaking lowly only to you. "Then we'll go down together, hmm? Two burial plots side-by-side~ "

6. Judge Claude Frollo Prompt (Fem Reader) 🎶'Jezebel, you're bound for Hell.'🎶

You're a woman who murdered her father's lover (You couldn't bear for your mothers heart to be broken) and find yourself under the judgment of one Judge Claude Frollo.

Will he send you to the gallows for your crime? Maybe not, if you keep flirting with him from across the courtroom.

Bat your eyelashes, Smirk those pretty lips, Make sure he gets a good look at your legs when you shift in your chair, do all these things in order to survive. Maybe you're only doing it to survive, maybe you actually like it. The way he looks at you.

7. Judge Claude Frollo Prompt 🎶 'Don't lie, I know you think about it in the back of your mind' 🎶

You're just a secretary in the office and the judge has made it quite clear what he wants from you. You refused him steadfast, of course, because you have dignity. And you're saving yourself.

But you cant stop thinking about it. What it might be like to say yes.

You know perfectly well that you shouldn't but with every day that goes by, your resolve grows thinner and thinner.

13. Bill Sykes Prompt 🎶'Thirty-one, waiting tables. She has They have a voice of an angel. Out of money and power. She only sings in the shower'🎶

You were working a dead-end job, living a dead-end unloved life until Bill Sykes walked into the diner you wait at. He walked in at the stroke of 4 in the afternoon, when you were supposed to leave- so, you weren't happy about it that day but had to go help him.

It was a curse at the time but now he has you singing at beautiful clubs and you have a penthouse and you don't have to wait anymore. People love you.

And yes he scares you sometimes- but the terrible man can be undone by your voice.

14. Percival C McLeach Prompt 🎶'I like em unavailable; guess that's just me.'🎶

You have a long history of going for the Wrong Guy. They're wrong because they're always taken already, a fact you only discover after the fact.

Now here's this guy- a rugged Australian guy from the middle of the outback. He's older and kindof uneducated and kind of brash but he always takes his hat off when he talks to you and opens doors for you, and... you're developing feelings for him.

He's completely not your type- you don't think he's ever dated before, and he definitely wouldn't have the sense of subtlety to pull off cheating. He wants you to be his one and only.

He thinks you're amazing. He thinks you're smart, funny, interesting, and beautiful. You feel kind of... greedy... finally having someone who just wants you.

But you're gonna make the jump. Whatever happens, happens. But at least this one truly wants you.

39. Wheezy Weasel Prompt 🎶'It's genius It's gonna be awfully rough on those children'🎶 This one's a little different! You got a Newsies Song, The Bottom Line (My favourite) so I- obviously- had to do something sticking with that theme XD

NewsiesAU!

Imagine you're in the position of Joseph Pulitzer's secretary (Hannah's character). You only got this job to be a help to the Toon Patrol (Wheezy, especially ^^). In this position you could easily sway the writing in the papers in the patrols favour, striking out any bad press. Yes, they would still get a bad reputation via word of mouth but it would be unofficial. Good notoriety in the papers would at least offer them some mystique.

This is hard enough on you. You hate deceiving people. You hate what the Toon Patrol do! But you love Wheezy, and you have to help him.

When Joseph bumps up the price of the papers, making life so so much more difficult for the newsies- the poor children, - to do their jobs and earn enough money to even feed themselves- you go home overwhelmed and in tears.

Wheezy's there to gather you in his arms and glare at Smartass when he sighs at you (How silly you are (Its just business)). He never wanted you to do this job! He never wanted you to be apart of this crap.

And now here you are sobbing because you're so stressed out and so sad- and- he's gotta get you out of this. He will get you out of this.

66. Hades Prompt 🎶'Dressed to kill'🎶

Imagine being a indebted servant to Hades along with Meg except you don't do a whole lot of the... communications work, that Meg does. So you don't have to look as nice all the time. You're often in the underworld with Hades helping him strategize and doing paperwork-type stuffs. You're closer with Hades then Meg is but it has never been a flirty thing, with you two. Just friendly. He's grown to actually like you- he's happy when you're around- you can calm him down when he's starting to lose his temper.

And honestly you like him, too. Despite the indenture. Somehow.

One day by some miracle Hades is in such a good mood, he lets you and Meg go for the day. You can do whatever you like but be back by sunset or he'll be pissed.

So you take the opportunity to wear something prettier then usual! Why not??

... When Hades sees you both leaving, that's when the penny finally drops.

He loves you.

How the hell did this happen!??-

77. Jafar Prompt (Fem Reader) 🎶'He don't know it 'cause I sure don't show it. When I kiss him goodbye and I wish him good luck'🎶

You try so hard to hide it; pretend like you're the perfect wife and you have no secrets. When you kiss your husband goodbye before you separate for the day, him going to the kitchens to work and you to laundry rooms, you look like the perfect young couple.

No one expects a thing.

Except you're truly being courted by a tall, dark, devastatingly handsome man you cant tell a soul about. And your husband, likewise, has a gentleman of his own to hide.

At night Jafar will meet you in the gardens where no one but the princess and the Sultan are allowed to roam, except they're asleep when you slip by. You're all his then and, truly, you're all his all the other hours in a day.

And he's all yours ^^

-But you cant tell a soul.

These are all Free to Use if you want ^^ Please tag me if you do use them! I so so wanna read them! ^^

Thank you so much for participating! ^^

#Spotify Wrapped Prompt Event #Spotify Wrapped x Reader #Spotify Wrapped x Fanfiction #Jafar x reader #Disney Jafar x reader #Hades x reader #Disney Hades x reader #Wheezy Weasel x reader #Percival C McLeach x reader #Bill Sykes x reader #Sykes x reader #Judge Claude Frollo x reader #Frollo x readeer #Professor Ratigan x reader

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wormdebut · 11 months ago

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!!!!! 6 for the wrapped blurb? A way to honor the song that didn't quite make it 🕯🖤

Hi there Vec! Six on my Spotify Wrapped was You Only Live Once by Suicide Silence. This one was actually super difficult for me to figure out, but We did it! Enjoy!

----

It's your heart that's beating inside that keeps us alive.

----

"Hey, Steve?" Eddie whispers, from his hospital bed and Steve freezes. He was headed out for the night. He wonders if Eddie remembers.

'Hey Steve--Make him pay.'

He's got to right? Steve hasn't stopped remembering it.

Steve whips his head around--no he's not eager to keep talking to Eddie. Leave him alone.

Eddie smiles. It's a small thing, but its been a week and half since--everything. Steve has thought about a lot of things. He's talked to Robin about a lot of things. It's been a week and a half since Steve Harrington carried Eddie Munson out of the upside down, hanging on by a fucking thread.

It's been two days since he opened his (very pretty) eyes and Steve is struggling.

Steve inhales, letting out a quick, "Yeah?"

That soft smile on Eddie's face, grows. He's still healing, but it's good to see him smiling. "I'm glad you made it out okay, Harrington."

Steve doesn't love that. Simply because, he's about to walk out of here, on two working legs. He's about to walk out of here, and go to his big as hell, empty fucking mansion and Eddie is lying in a hospital bed, with tubes all over his body, hooked to far too many electrical devices and Eddie is telling Steve that he's glad he's alright.

And yet-- "I'm glad you made it out okay too, Munson." Steve returns Eddie's smile.

Eddie cocks his head. "I'll see you soon?"

'I'll be back tomorrow', Steve thinks. He doesn't say that though. He just nods his head once. "Yeah, Eds. I'll see you soon."

——

Things are fine. Eddie keeps coming over to Steve's house--of course he does. Steve keeps inviting him. Steve just can't get over the fact that Eddie keeps saying yes.

They're doing what they usually do, these days, lounging by the pool--absolutely not swimming, thank you very much--smoking weed and just existing.

Steve is quite happy with the way things are going. He just wishes he could fucking say something. Anything.

Eddie pulls him out of his thoughts.

"Does it ever get any better?" Eddie asks and Steve raises an eyebrow. Eddie continues, "Living with knowing? Knowing that there's a real actual hell just--underneath our fucking feet? Knowing that people are as evil and twisted as I always thought they were? Knowing that the people of Hawkins are safe because of a bunch of teenage nerds? Does it--" Eddie pauses, turning his stupid (very pretty) wide eyes up to meet Steve's "--ever start making sense?"

Steve stares back into Eddie's eyes for a minute--he is high, leave him alone--before shaking his head.

"Better? No, I don't really think so--but, you have people who know what you do. You have people who went through what you went through. We stick together. Does it get any better? I don't really think so--but, it does get easier."

Eddie's face goes soft, his smile is that sweet thing again and it makes Steve's heart, ache. "Having you makes it easier I think."

Steve feels the color that rushes to his cheeks. "Yeah, well--you've got me."

——

He's going to go insane. It's been three months and things with Eddie are fine. They are fine, and nothing is changing and--well--except for--okay…so maybe they--Look. Listen. Eddie is a tactile guy and Steve does not mind. Maybe they cuddle on Steve's dumb couch everyone in a dumb while, but that's--Eddie isn't making any moves, and Steve doesn't know if he should--and--

And and and--

"Rob, I don't know what to do." Steve whines over the phone line.

"Oh my god Steve. I leave for the weekend. The weekend, Steven Augustus." She sighs. She has to go pulling out the pretentious middle name. Cool. Great. "Just--" she sighs, "just talk to him--or--"

"Or what Robin Evangeline?" Steve fights back. Robin has a pretentious middle name too.

Robin scoffs. "Okay, first of all? That's fuckin' rude. Point B? Just--I dunno--kiss him about it or something."

Steve laughs--cackles really. "Oh yeah, I'll just kiss him real quick and it should fix everything right?"

Robin sighs. "I don't know Steve. You only live once--and honestly? The fact that you and Eddie for that matter are still breathing is pretty fucking phenomenal and--You just--you--life is too short to worry about the what ifs. Talk to him, kiss him, fuck him. I don't care. Just--do something about it."

----

Steve watches as Eddie slings his jacket over his shoulders. He's just gonna let him walk out of his house again.

"Hey, Eddie?" Steve breathes. Eddie turns, that soft smile--the smile Steve thinks is maybe meant for him--on his plush lips.

Steve takes a breath and then grabs Eddie's arm, pulling them chest to chest. He almost loses his cool when they lock eyes. Eddie's are wide and searching.

Steve is done searching he knows what he wants. He leans forward, crashing his lips to Eddies.

Eddie kisses back.

----

You only live once, so just go fucking nuts!

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie blurb #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #worm spotify series #worm brain #wingwoman robin forever #vecnuthy

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blacksgarden · 11 months ago

Text

Spotify Wrapped Chain

It's all there in the title. Let's do it~

No pressure tag: @somewereinthegalaxi, @msblacklupin, @chronicintrovertt and @🫵 (you! Yes, how else are we supposed to start a chain, person behind ze screen?~

IMPORTANT NOTE: I am the kind of person to just enjoy music. I listen to a really wide range of music and I'm talking about songs from the 70s/80s till this era. So please do not criticise me for who I listen to (E.g. Doja Cat), because I usually listen to current songs for their catchy melody. Not for the artist or the lyrics. The best songs, especially for their lyrics, is hands down in Generation X's era.

#spotify #spotify wrapped #blacksgarden #start a chain #beyonce #beyonce knowles #beyonce knowels carter #doja cat #female rappers #the weeknd #rihanna #chloe bailey #halle bailey #chloe x halle #pop songs #@🫵

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heeversee · 1 year ago

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Heeversee Presents ✨

Chapter 02

Starring: LEE HEESEUNG

Today's Spotify playlist

Do I wanna know (by Arctic monkeys)

I Wanna be Yours(Arctic monkeys)

It's been a while since you and heeseung started to hang out after sharing each other's numbers. Talking and giggling like a highschool girl when he calls you.

Heeseung on the other hand, the mafia boss who was always busy overworking, now started to make time for his little dove, who he knew would always be waiting for his call.

He enters his mansion with all the workers on either side bowing and greeting him.

He hastily walks to his room, quickly getting rid of his suit jacket and rolling up his sleeves.

He calls the love of his life.

"hello" the sweet voice greeted him, and he wondered what it would be like if this sweet voice would scream his name while pounding into her.

He looks down, already hard with just the mere thought of his dove.

"Hello, heeseung are you there?" Your voice brought him out of his unholy thoughts.

He smiles. Just the sound of your voice has him in a trance. She is so innocent and I want her all to myself..... Thought heeseung.

He doesn't need to know how...... he already knows you're the one. He doesn't just want to be your friend, he wants to know everything about you; your thoughts, your feelings.

"Oh, well... *chuckles*. *Clears throat*. Hello my little dove," Heesung says, quickly fumbling with his belt to get rid of his pants.

This girl has him utterly and completely wrapped around her finger.

"umm how was your day?" You ask him nervously. Ignoring the sound of metal clicking.

"it went well" Heesung said.

You were sad because every time he called you, he always spoke less and when you asked him he brushed it off by saying that he loved listening to your voice.

"tell me more about how your day was dove" you heard his deep voice commanding you, turning you on.

You started explaining "yes, so today I spilled the coffee and-"

Your voice was how he got off.

"yeah, and I don't know how that happened.

Oh and tomorrow is a holiday for me since it's the owner's daughter's birthday, if you're fr-" you stop Your sentence half way when you hear a moan for the other side.

"Heesung?" You were already turned on but Heeseung wasn't making it any easier by moaning.

You heard another moan but this time louder which you could hear clearly.

"yes Dove, who told you to stop huh? Keep on talking" he moans again.

"w-what are you doing?" You knew, but you just wanted to hear it from him.

"I'm imagining you kneeling in front of Me and sucking my dick" you blush.

There was a moment of silence until you slightly whimpered.

"Thinking about me my dove?, Tell me how wet you are" with his command Your hand reaches down to your pants stripping it off and gently touching you clothed pussy.

You moan imagining that it was Heeseung's hand instead of yours.

"little dove, keep your door open. I'm coming" he says and cuts the call.

You sit on your bed, not satisfied with how you look. You quickly grab a set of white lingerie with pastel pink lace.

After getting dressed, you waited.

Absolutely nervous and shocked about the man you loved has been getting off by your voice.

You heard a knock, you knew who it was. As soon as you opened the door Heesung barged in slamming the door behind him and pushing you against the wall.

His face inches away, his breath fanning your face.

"oh, how I've waited for you my little you, how I've spent every night imagining you waking up in my arms, do you have any idea how I love you"

You freeze.

"love?" You question.

Heesung felt your body freezing as soon as he confessed to you making him regret that maybe he was too fast with things.

He steps away from you watching Your expressions, his heart breaking.

Yes! He is the maifa boss who doesn't show any mercy or emotions but with you things are different. You had him wrapped around your little finger, The Maifa boss was a fool for you.

Meanwhile, you took time to process things. Does that mean he loves me? You thought.

"yo-you love me? Me?" You ask pointing yourself.

Heeseung gives you a sturd nod.

You watch him go towards the door.

You grab him by his collar and kiss him softly.

Heeseung who was sad and heartbroken thinking that you didn't love him back froze for a second.

He kissed you back with more ferocity, kissing like there's no tomorrow. You broke the kiss.

"Hee.... I love you too" you shyly admit not making eye contact.

Heesung was shocked, he felt so happy that he could give you the world.

"look at me my dove. Oh god you're so beautiful what do I do" he hugs you tightly tucking your head under his chin. Gently threading his fingers in your hair kissing your forehead.

"you make me crazy, dove" he says softly.

After hearing you whimpering, moaning. Heesung knew that tonight he's going to put his baby into you.

Coming sir! Coming! ,🧎🏻‍♀️

Taglist: @rizzhee @rayofsunshineeee

I'm such a bad smut writer..

The next chapter is on its way.... I wanted to make a different chapter for smut.

I can't shut up and Enhypen's "Bite me" Japanese version. Godddddd!

#enhypen #enha #kpop #enhypen smut #heeseung fanfic #lee heeseung fanfic #heeseung smut #engene #enhypen heeseung #heeseung

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whatacaitastrophe · 9 months ago

Text

Is It Over Now - Chapter 12

Previous Chapter

Chapter Song Inspiration: "The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot" - Brand New

Chapter Warnings: Mystra

Spotify Playlist: Here

Chapter Notes: this is the last chapter of "Is It Over Now!" thank you so much to everyone who has read this fic and liked it, reblogged it, left comments etc. the next installment, "Everything Has Changed" is already on AO3, and i'll start uploading chapters here soon <3

also!! i have a discord server!! it was made to coincide with the twitch channel, but i need more friends to talk about bg3 with so pls come hang. link is above!

Chapter 12: Call Me A Safe Bet, I'm Betting I'm Not

“Astarion, we’re supposed to be packing.” Fallon giggles.

Astarion is also supposed to be in the kitchen, taking stock of what food they have left and how much of it is worth taking with them. Instead, he’s in their bedroom with his arms wrapped around Fallon’s waist from behind, peppering kisses across her neck and shoulders. “We’ve done enough packing for today, I think it’s time we take a well-deserved break.”

“We just started!” Fallon argues, but she also does nothing to stop Astarion’s hands from slipping beneath the hem of her shirt.

“We started yesterday.” His fingertips dance lightly over the skin above her trousers underneath her shirt.

Fallon looks at the clock on the wall and giggles again. “You cheeky fucker, just because we started at half-ten in the evening and it’s now one in the morning does not count as starting to pack yesterday. It’s been two and a half hours!”

“Fallon, darling, I’m starting to think you don’t want to have sex with me. It’s going to give me a complex.” Astarion chuckles and he brushes her hair to the side to nip at the nape of her neck.

She snorts with laughter when he says that. “Yes, because Ao forbid I try to actually make sure we’re prepared to leave for Velrea in four days,” she says drily, leaning into his touch and tilting her head further to the side to give him better access. “Nevermind that we’ve not gone a single day without having sex since the Winter Solstice.”

Astarion pauses for a moment, and Fallon does not need to look at him to know that her partner is digging through his memory to try and prove Fallon wrong. The dramatic huff following the silence is also telling: he knows she’s right. Not that this deters him at all. Instead the vampire changes tactics. “Well, when I live with the most beautiful woman in all of Faerun, how can I be blamed for wanting her constantly? I mean, what would you do if you were in my position?” His fingers deftly slip beneath the very top of her trousers, skimming over her hips.

A shiver rolls across Fallon’s body, and she almost, almost, gives in. It’s been two months since the Winter Solstice, and Fallon and Astarion have been insatiable ever since. It’s like finally admitting how much they love each other woke up something inside of the them, and with it came a new level of virility that Lae’zel claimed makes them “impossible to be around for longer than an hour.” Truthfully, Fallon would love nothing more than to stop folding clothes and let Astarion take her right there on top of the freshly laundered pile but they have a deadline to meet. If they want to reach Velrea before the Spring Equinox, they absolutely must leave in four days’ time.

“If I were in your position, I’d take a cold bath then go back to the kitchen.” She giggles. It is only then that Fallon turns around to face Astarion, and she plants a soft kiss on his lips, then pats his cheek when he pouts. “I promise to make it up to you, my love. I’ll even show you what I bought at Figaro’s when I went shopping with Shadowheart a couple days ago. It’s lacy and pretty, positively sinful and completely impractical for traveling.” Fallon teases him, biting her lip and batting her eyelashes.

“Wicked woman. Absolutely wicked.” Astarion smirks, kissing her once more. “I’m holding you to that.”

“I expect nothing less. Now go.” Fallon gently pushes him away from her, playfully smacking his backside as he leaves the room.

The last time the two of them traveled together it was about as unplanned as it could get, considering they’d both been kidnapped and forced to make due with whatever happened to be on their person at first. Now that they have the time to plan and prepare, Fallon wants to do so. Even with it only being the two of them this time, Fallon easily resumed the leadership role she naturally took on during their adventures from the nautiloid to Baldur’s Gate, and Astarion was happy to let her. He’d even admitted to Fallon that was initially part of why he wanted her to come with him in the first place. “You’re better at making tough decisions than I am. Better at taking the emotions out of it, if you will.” He’d explained.

Fallon could only hope that she is still able to think that logically in the event they are faced with danger. Things are different now, and there is far more at stake; namely, how far she would be willing to go to keep Astarion safe and to help him get what he wants. Fallon would never say she didn’t love Gale, but she certainly did not love Gale in the way she loves Astarion now. The way she feels about the vampire is soul-deep and all-encompassing. If anything ever happened to Astarion, she would scorch the entire world to save him.

How is it possible that the two of them had so many clothes? It’s not like they were constantly leaving the suite. Astarion couldn’t unless it was dark outside, and Fallon’s sleep schedule was slightly closer to his these days because of it. When they did leave, it was only to go downstairs to the tavern, or occasionally to Wyll’s. Lae’zel and Shadowheart had returned to Creche K’liir, promising to visit more often, same with Karlach and Halsin back to The Grove. On top of that, when Astarion and Fallon were at home they were naked more than half the time because of their inability to keep their hands off of each other.

Thank the gods they were clothed this evening, however, because the easy silence that filled the suite was interrupted by the sound of somebody opening a portal in the sitting room. “What the–”

“I seek an audience with Fallon of Baldur’s Gate.” An ominous female voice echoes through the suite, and Fallon freezes. She knows that voice. It’s a voice she’s only ever heard once before, but once was enough for her to know enough. Fallon grabs her sword on her way out of the bedroom, despite knowing that it will likely do little should the owner of the voice pick a fight. Astarion apparently had the same idea, for when they meet in the hallway, Astarion is holding a dagger. Quickly, Astarion kisses Fallon and whispers, “I love you,” before taking a step in front of her protectively as they enter the sitting room.

At the sight of Mystra, Goddess of Magic, Fallon’s heart rate increases exponentially. She’s even more beautiful than Gale’s memories of her depicted, and on that alone, Fallon understands why Gale walked directly into her trap time and time again. Why in the nine hells is Mystra in her home? She quickly scans the sitting room for Gale, but the demi-god is not present. Fallon looks Mystra in the eyes and swallows as she desperately tries to keep her cool.

“I can’t say I know what the protocol is when a goddess comes to visit. Am I to bow? Offer you tea? Drop to my knees and pray? Then again, you’re not my goddess, so I suppose I don’t need to do any of those things.” Fallon says cooly, and her grip tightens on her sword.

“Put your weapons away, I did not come here to harm you.” Mystra demands.

“I’ll believe that when I see it.” Astarion snarls back at her, dagger raised.

“You will not threaten me, vampire.” Mystra snaps.

“You’re the one who entered my home without an invitation, not the other way around,” He snaps back. “What do you want with Fallon?”

Mystra does not recoil when Astarion refuses to back down, but her presence seems to become less…overbearing, somehow. “I came to congratulate her.”

Astarion and Fallon look at each other in confusion. “Congratulate me for what?”

“For ruining Gale of Waterdeep’s life.”

Fallon’s blood goes cold, and her grip on her sword loosens. “What have you done to Gale?”

Mystra lets out a cold laugh. “Oh, it’s not a question of what I’ve done, Fallon of Baldur’s Gate, but a question of what Gale of Waterdeep has done. For you, because of you, however you wish to interpret it.”

Even Astarion is lowering his weapons now, and he takes a step back to hold Fallon’s free hand. Whatever Mystra is about to reveal, it’s definitely not good, and Gale is definitely not okay. “What did he do?” Astarion asks.

Mystra smirks. “Gale of Waterdeep has decided that he no longer wishes to become a god. He claims that if being a god means spending eternity without you in it, then he doesn’t want it.”

Oh no. Fallon’s heart drops into her stomach as she slowly puts the pieces together in her mind. She remembers what Gale said of his bargain with Mystra in order to achieve godhood, and what the stakes were. What the cost would be if he denied Mystra. Astarion must remember, too, because his grip on her hand tightens.

“I told Gale of Waterdeep the consequences of his choice would be the same now as they were when I first offered him a chance to ascend to godhood. He chose you still. I simply needed to meet the woman who turned my chosen against me so thoroughly face-to-face, and to bring her a gift.”

Whatever this gift is, Fallon is already certain it’s not much of a gift at all. Not for her, not for Astarion, and most certainly not for Gale.

Mystra snaps her fingers, and Gale Dekarios is suddenly on the ground at Fallon and Astarion’s feet. He looks up at her weakly, and when he reaches for her, his entire body is shaking. Fallon’s sword hits the ground with a clang and lets go of Astarion’s hand, dropping to her knees in front of Gale.

“What have you done to him, you wretched bitch?!” Fallon screams at Mystra. Fallon reaches for Gale’s body and Astarion is almost immediately at her side, helping her pull Gale closer to them both, wrapping their bodies around Gale to protect him from Mystra. If that’s even possible at this point, as it seems the damage is already done.

“I have not done anything Gale of Waterdeep has not asked for,” Mystra says coldly. “He knew the consequences of defying me, turning his back on me, and chose you anyway, so I bring him to you, Fallon of Baldur’s Gate. For he is your problem now, in all his imperfect, entirely and ordinarily human disgrace.”

Mystra says nothing else before stepping back through her portal, and Fallon and Astarion watch in shock as it closes. It is only once Mystra is gone that either of them realize Gale is inconsolable.

“She– she took my magic. Fallon– it’s gone. I can’t feel The Weave anymore. Oh gods. It’s gone!” Fallon pulls as much of Gale into her lap as she can and holds him there as the man she once loved so fiercely completely breaks down. Even after everything Gale has done, he didn’t deserve this punishment. Taking away his access to The Weave was already cruel, but dropping him on his ex-lover’s doorstep? That was especially malicious.

“It’s gone.” Gale continues to repeat, and Fallon just looks at Astarion desperately. For once, she does not know what to do.

“Well,” Astarion sighs, and reaches for Fallon’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “I guess I’d better make sure we’ve got enough food for three, then.”

There’s no hesitancy in his voice and Fallon nods in agreement: Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep, mortal, non-magical, and human, is coming with them to Velrea, whether he likes it or not.

Masterlist

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale #astarion #bg3 fanfic #female tav #astarion x tav #gale x tav #bg3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 fanfic

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thisismeracing · 1 year ago

Note

ok so since i had dance practice today

mick and hamilton!reader would absolutely be the types to dance in the kitchen

waltzing would be their sleepy, i want to touch you but also dance but also im dead on my feet but still want to dance

and since salsa requires more energy to at would be their we’re making lunch but the food needs to sit in the pan for a bit and we have the space and time to be wrapped up in each other dance

i think they wouldnt dance in public at first cause they want this to just be their thing before its something the world knows

but one day on the paddock someone accidentally connects to a bluetooth speaker and one of their salsa songs come son and before anyone knows it mick has pulled hamilton reader close and they are in their own world salsa-ing around

everyone is like where is this music coming from and why is it so loud??? and then they turn their heads towards them two and they just watch in stunned silence and adoration

lewis is a smiling wideeeeeeee cause thats his sister!!!!! and her man treats her so welllllll

[sidebar: lewis was the one to teach hamilton!reader the waltz, but reader and mick learned the salsa by themselves]

the engineer’s phone who was desperately trying to disconnect let the song run cause they arent going to take away this moment from them

and at the end the surrounding garages give a round of applause

(maybe lewis pulls him aside later and jokingly, but not really, and gives him his blessing and he better see a ring on his sisters ring soon. mick totally isnt shitting bricks when he says that and then reader, unknowingly saves him from her brother to take him away cause its time to go home)

☕️

first of all, it's so cool you dance!!! I love it <3

second, yes, hamilton!reader and mick would totally dance, they have their own playlist after all, we should expect something like this from these two. They would waltz to the piano version of King of my heart, Mick just got home from sim work, and Yn is super tired and had just gotten home too, she's putting something together for dinner, and their shared playlist just ended, so now Spotify is playing similar stuff, and for some reason, it started playing the piano version of their song. Mick, who had just reached the kitchen door, hugged her tight, kissing her temple, and relaxing with her scent and touch. It was seconds, and they were still hugging so one of them casually started to move, and the other followed, and then they were just quietly dancing in each other's arms.

It would take a bit for them to get the hang of Salsa, but it was so much fun to learn with each other. They would share some tutorials, and their algorithm would help by suggesting salsa songs and TikToks. She would make fun of him, but also encourage him - get this right and I'm kissing you on the lips, one step wrong the kiss is on the cheek, and so on, all while in the kitchen. Some days they would move the sessions to the living room, dragging the coffee table to the corner of the room, and just having their fun. Angie would bark here and there especially when they would laugh, she would love to watch those two.

OMG OMG But the look they would share the second the music started playing, silently deciding if they would dance to this or just pretend it wasn't happening, but then Mick was grabbing her hand, and it started small, just one foot here, other there, but then you were dancing for real, and the whole time they were smiling at each other, eyes never leaving the other.

Lewis is the proud brother, and he would totally snap a small video of it (that thing about having a shared folder with Gina), whereas he's also the protective brother so yeah, he would tell how happier reader seems to be and how Yn happy means he's happy too, and meanwhile Mick is just nodding unaware of this is going, sipping his coffee, and watching Lewis go through his salad, at this point, Lewis is more talking than eating his food. And then boom, he asks when he'll be seeing a ring on her finger, and Mick chokes on his coffee, gulps at the tricky situation, and before he can confess to Lewis that he, in fact, got his mom's ring just a few weeks back, but he would probably wait a bit, Yn barges into the room laughing with Bono and Mick breaths in relief.

Side note: I am in love with all your hamilton!reader thots <3 the way you got them is just *chef kiss*

King of My Heart Masterlist

#☕️ anon #thots #komh #hamilton!reader #millies inbox #ms47 #mick schumacher #f1 x reader

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wizardofgoodfortune · 2 years ago

Note

i have been lurking in your asks for this moment: for the spotify wrapped fic prompt, #10!!

i'm going to ignore the very obvious and very painful daniel/hob implications of this song because i want to finish the comics first before writing anything outside of the show's canon. so have this instead!!

Dream had been visiting Hob more frequently than he'd like to admit. It all started with Dream wanting to carve out a small place of solace in his life, and what place was more perfect than The New Inn? Built for him like an altar for an absent god.

Though these days, he'd been more present than ever. He wished he had the privilege to say he'd been drunk the first night it happened, or the next night, and the next. But Dream, Lord of Dreams and Ruler of Nightmares, always knew what was going on, and what desires he'd recklessly indulged in again and again.

Tonight was no different. By now, Hob was a veteran in making Dream feel more than welcome. It was all too easy to fall into Hob's arms and into his bed above The New Inn. Somewhere down the line, Dream had made himself vulnerable to Desire's machinations.

But he had somehow convinced himself that it was alright, as long as Hob wasn't vulnerable.

Some nights they talked afterwards, and Dream wasn't quite sure whether it amplified or quieted his regrets. This was one of those nights.

"Tell me about the Dreaming," Hob said, his head propped up on his arm as he looked down at Dream.

"What do you wish to know?"

"I don't know. Everything. You don't work alone, do you?"

"...No, I suppose I don't, anymore. I have Lucienne. And Matthew."

"Ah, Matthew, yeah, we've met. Why does he talk by the way? Nearly gave me a heart attack the first time he spoke to me."

"He was human, before. He died in his sleep and became a raven of the Dreaming."

"Oh," Hob said. He paused. Dream observed the shadows cast on his face by the moonlight. "So if I die in my sleep, I get to stay at your place? As a raven?"

Dream felt the corners of his mouth lift up. A silly notion. "You do not have to die. You will always be welcome in the Dreaming, Hob."

Hob smiled down at him, and Dream felt a warm fire in his chest. "Thank you, love. But what I meant is I never had the chance to visit your, y'know. Your place. Is it a castle?"

"Yes, I suppose you could call it a castle," Dream said.

Hob hummed, and tapped Dream's chest with his free hand. "A wild thing," he said after a few seconds.

"What is?" Dream asked.

"I was just some peasant when we first met," Hob said, his eyes lost in memory. "Thought you were some ignorant lord. In the back of my mind, I thought were you just making fun of me, asking to meet you after a hundred years. Never thought this," he gestured to their bodies, naked under the covers, "would ever happen. Y'know? A wild thing."

Dream hummed in agreement.

"Guess I'm lucky, huh?" Hob chuckled, his fingers still tapping on Dream's chest. "Hey. Would you bring me to your castle some day, show me around?"

"Perhaps," Dream replied.

"Tease," Hob chastised. Then he pressed a kiss on Dream's forehead, then on his nose, and finally on his lips. "I adore you. You know that? I love you, Dream."

Dream froze. He looked into Hob's eyes, saw the fondness in them, and knew that he meant it.

This was just supposed to be a brief respite, some semblance of comfort that he did not have in his day-to-day life. He thought it was the same for Hob, that Dream was just someone immortal to hold onto once in a while. But it wasn't. Not anymore.

I should not have come here, he thought, tearing his gaze away from Hob's. He did not have the heart to say it out loud.

Dream stood up from the bed, already clothed.

This will be the last time, he thought. It was what he thought every time. And maybe tonight it will finally come true. No, it should come true. Lest he destroy even Hob Gadling, like he has many times to his other lovers before. It always ended in tragedy, whether Desire was involved or not, and Dream didn't want that for him.

A hand shot up from the covers to grip his wrist.

"Stay. Stay, darling," Hob said, sitting up. "Won't you stay?"

Dream turned.

Hob's eyes shone, watery in the moonlight.

It should not be fair, Dream thought, for Desire to easily toy with me like this.

"I cannot stay any longer," Dream said.

"Why not?" Hob said, with all the petulance of a child. "Come back. Just for a while."

Dream resisted the urge to climb back in the covers with him. That was his sibling speaking.

"I apologize. I will make sure your dreams are pleasant tonight, and on every other night."

"Will you be coming back?" Hob asked. "You sound like you're never coming back."

Dream said nothing.

"I can wait. I will."

"I know," Dream said. He didn't add, "beloved."

"I'm not sorry," Hob said, gripping Dream's wrist even tighter. "But I won't say it again, if it means you'll stay."

Something cold and heavy sat in Dream's chest.

"So don't go," Hob said, "please."

Dream dissipated into thin air, but not quickly enough that he did not see a tear roll down Hob's cheek. He can still feel his grip on his wrist.

#the song is sad and therefore this is now... sad #sorry in advance 😔#dreamling #sandman #*my fic #*#rooftopwreck #this probably needs editing but idk im just gonna throw this out now.... i wanna go shower and sleep kjdbsfgdf #of course dream has to storm out after hob says i love you! it is only the natural course of things #idk maybe this will turn into something else in the future ????? depends ig #thank u for participating vi my beloved <3 #i want to let you know i thought of that gif of ferdie crying precisely one tear #spotify wrapped #ask

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hwaslayer · 1 year ago

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project: make you love me (jyh) | five.

♣︎ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—pairing: jeong yunho x f. reader x park seonghwa

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers/friends to lovers, college au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 4.5k

—chapter content/warnings: some cussing, witty & sweet yunho, seungmin being the true best friend that he is, college mcdonalds runs lol, yunho and oc talk a bit about the past, they also talk about seonghwa a bit, quick flashback scene - crying & heartbreak :/ , yunho really thinks oc is the cutest, i promise we are making progress even though it seems slow!!

It's been a couple of days since you last heard from Seonghwa, and to be quite frank, you don't really care much for it. It does suck, and it does hurt. But, at this point, you've done enough on your end and you can say you've always tried.

Seonghwa? Not so much.

"I'm fucked." You let out a heavy sigh as your face falls into the palms of your hands, stressing about your literature paper due.

You barely have the two paragraphs done, and your notes are all over the place.

What are you even saying anymore?

You're going in circles, and Dr. Nelson will know you didn't even try to make this work. The best part? This wasn't the only major paper assigned for the semester— you're not even sure how you'll tackle the other ones without leaning on Yunho for help.

"Doing okay there?" You hear a familiar, husky voice, followed by the sound of a bag being placed on the shared tabletop. You look up to see Yunho, and you're really relieved he's here. Even if you weren't going to try and bother him much about this paper, his presence was comforting.

"I don't know."

"That's not good." He chuckles before sliding his laptop out of his bag. "How can I help you?"

"Well, first of all, I'm really glad you're here."

"It is the booth I frequently work at." He teases with a smirk. "I see you've grown a liking to it."

"It's nice and quiet. Plus, I know I can find you here." He smiles and nods. "Second, it's Dr. Nelson."

"The paper?"

"Yes." You whine, again placing your head down onto the desk. "Why is this so difficult? Words are not coming to me, and even if they do, do they even make sense? I don't even know—" You mumble on and on, and Yunho can barely make out what you're saying. But, it's clear you're distressed and Yunho can't help but be a little endeared seeing this.

At least you care enough to do your best.

"Y/N." He calls for your name softly. "Slow down, it's gonna be okay. Let me know how I can help you." You finally look up with a pout.

"I don't want to rely on you."

"You're not relying on me when you ask for help. It's okay." He tries to lighten the mood. "Now seriously, how can I help? Do I need to run and buy you a mochi donut?" You giggle and shake your head.

"No, no." You pass along your laptop to let him view the screen. "Read this introduction. Does it make sense?" He furrows his brows a bit while reading your paragraph but nods to acknowledge what you've written so far.

"It does. Why do you think it doesn't make sense?"

"I guess I'm just not sure where to take this."

"Hm. You should give yourself more credit than that." He smiles at you. "You've already stated a couple of general ideas here. Why don't you take those and develop your body paragraphs that way? Those obviously stood out to you the most, so I'm sure you'll remember where to find it in the book."

"True."

"Don't second-guess yourself. I know it's hard because Dr. Nelson is in your head, but you really have the right idea. You just have to give him more than what he knows. Almost like—" Yunho tilts his head for a second as if to show he's deep in thought. "—Like okay, do you journal?"

"Yes, sometimes. Not all the time."

"You don't have to give me details, but what do you journal about? Just in general." Yunho patiently waits and keeps his eyes on you while you think.

"Feelings. Thoughts. Emotions."

"Right. When you're sad, you talk about why you're sad and how it affects you, your day, mood. Everything. You write about all these details and elaborate on the feeling."

"Yeah, exactly."

"Then, it's just like that. You already write about these things in your personal life. It's the same elaboration, same kind of thought process." You nod as Yunho pushes your laptop back towards you. "What I'm trying to say is, don't think much about it. Just write what comes to mind and don't overthink it."

"You know what, you're right. I need to stop overthinking and just do it." You grab at your laptop, feeling better after Yunho's advice. "Thanks, Yunho. I needed that."

"Happy to help."

"Are you going to leave soon?" He shakes his head.

"I was hoping to get some work done." You look at him and he catches the way your eyes light up.

"You're going to stay?" You ask him again for some kind of reassurance.

"Mhm." A smile tugs at the corner of your lips just as you start to type away more confidently.

"Sorry I took over your booth." You say with your eyes glued to your screen, making Yunho chuckle.

"I'll share it with you." You let out a tiny laugh at this response.

During the entire two hours you spent with Yunho at the booth, he was diligently finishing up his own paper before switching gears to focus on the remaining aspects of his other project. In between, he would patiently read your paper when you asked, giving you his feedback and some areas of improvement. You took them positively, adding in Yunho's tips into your paper and finishing off a good chunk before it could get way too late in the evening.

Of course, there comes a point where you get hungry and restless. That moment feels like now, especially when the words are starting to blur together in the last bit of the body. Oh well.

Yunho must be good at reading people though, because he picks up on the dwindling excitement, the dying energy, your tone change; the way you restlessly shake your legs and shift in your seat.

It's time to call it a night.

"Did you drive today?" You shake your head.

"No. I'm stuck here until Seungmin is done with his group project. But, I guess it's good since it'll force me to work on more things."

"Do you have to work on more things?" You giggle.

"Yes, but not really? They're due next week, and they're quick assignments."

"Cool. Down for some McDonalds, then? I can drive us. I can bring you home afterwards too, or back here. Whichever works." Yunho zips up his bag and patiently waits for your response. "No pressure, though."

"I'm down for some McDonald's." You chuckle, packing up your things. "I think I've done enough, right?" Yunho laughs a bit while watching you.

"You've done more than enough for today, Y/N. You're almost done with your paper. That's big progress."

"Thank you." You smile at him while zipping up your bag. "Alright, I'm ready." Yunho gestures for you to slide out of the booth first, with him following behind. He twirls his keychain around his finger as the two of you walk out of the library— the air hitting your face just as the doors swing open; cold, but refreshing.

"Cold?" Yunho looks down at you, almost ready to shed off his light jacket in order to keep you comfortable.

"Um, no. I should be good." You look up at him. "Besides, I don't wanna keep taking your jackets." He chuckles.

"I don't mind. Just let me know."

"Okay." It falls silent for a bit before you break the silence, kicking the rocks beneath your shoes. "How's your project coming along?"

"Hm." He hums. "It's going. As good as it gets for now, I guess."

"You and Yeosang don't team up for these things?" He laughs.

"Not really. We've talked about assignments before, but it's not a hot topic in the apartment. I think I might have brainstormed around Yeosang but he doesn't do much besides give off the usual 'sounds good to me.'"

"Mm, I see. He's quite the mystery." You gently nudge his arm. "You both are."

"Yeah, can't deny that." He lets out a small breathy laugh, flashing his key fob towards his car so that it unlocks. "Got lucky with parking today."

"That's always the best." You chuckle.

"Speaking of roommates, Seungmin knows you're coming along right? Don't want him to go looking for you."

"He knows. Trust me, even if he didn't, he wouldn't look for me." He smiles a bit when he sees your phone light up in your hands, signaling a text coming through. "Actually, speak of the devil."

"Oh, so he wouldn't look for you?" Yunho asks in a teasing manner, making the heat rise to your cheeks.

"It really must be your lucky day cause he doesn't always do this."

"He's your friend, he wouldn't leave you."

"He wouldn't! But, he'd also assume Chaery or Soobin might have already picked me up before asking." You laugh. "Can't stand him, but love him."

"Cute." Yunho says just as he drives off to the nearest McDonald's. It's only an exit away from where campus us located, and it's a quick drive being that it's pretty late in the evening.

seungmin: bro where r u

seungmin: r u with park seonghwa

you: noooo! sorry i was gonna text you but you surprisingly beat me to it

you: i'm with yunho, gonna grab mcdonalds then he'll take me home. want anything?

seungmin: oh, did you guys end up working together in the library? and i'm good on the mcdonalds. ty ☺️

you: mhm! alright. did you finish your project?

seungmin: almost, was looking for you because i wasnt sure if you still wanted to stay and i was gonna take you home. i truly think we'll be here till closing..

seungmin: rip me

you: aw seungmo

you: almost done! goodluck! don't worry about me 😬

seungmin: don't worry i'm not

you: lol sick of you, go away

You giggle to yourself as you tuck your phone away and return your attention to the road ahead.

"So, what are you getting?" You turn to Yunho, who is focused on driving carefully with you in his passenger's seat; one hand placed on the wheel, while the other rests on his lap.

"The entire menu at this point." You laugh. "I'm starving."

"You didn't eat today?"

"Barely. Just grabbed something small in between the break I had."

"Yunho." You look at him with concern. "That's not good! You have to eat."

"Yeah, I know. Trust me, I'll never pass up the opportunity on purpose. Just had bad time management today, I guess."

"Should I send you reminders?" You joke, but he shrugs.

"No, but that'd be cute if you did." He laughs. "But seriously, I'm usually better."

"Okay, Yunho. I'm holding you to it." You give him a toothless smile just as he pulls up into the McDonald's drive-thru.

"You know what you want?" He asks as he momentarily stops in front of the menu before pulling up to the main drive-thru speaker.

"Mhm. Can you please just get me the 10 pc nugget meal?"

"Anything else?" You shake your head and wait patiently while Yunho relays the orders. He pulls up to the first window to pay before he heads to the second to grab the orders. He gently hands the two bags over to you before setting the drinks down in his cupholders. "How much do I owe you?" You ask as he pulls out of the lot.

"Don't worry about it."

"Yunho? Stop. Let me pay."

"Nope." He glances over at you as you cross your arms and furrow your brows. "Still a no." He laughs.

"Come on, really?"

"It's not a big deal, Y/N. I got you." You sigh.

"Fine. I'll just have to get you brunch again."

"Don't. Please just let me treat you to something. You don't have to repay me." You look at him and find that he's serious. So, you nod and let it go.

"Where are we going?" You ask when you realize you're traveling in the opposite direction of your apartment complex.

"Oh, sorry. I know this view, and I thought I could take you there while we eat. I-Is that okay with you?" He clears his throat again and taps his fingers against the wheel. "I-I mean, I don't mind driving back. Really, it's whatever you wanna—"

"Yunho, please." You giggle. "I would love to eat at a view."

"Okay. Cool." He simply says, relieved that you're down to eat with him at a view. It might sound really cliché and pathetic, but he loves coming here when he just needs a moment—

A moment to breathe,

A moment to just be.

And right now, he feels like you could use that. He doesn't really know what else happens in your personal life, and he doesn't wanna ask unless you start that conversation yourself. But, shit happens. Life is life; we're all going through it. He knows you've been stressing over classes, over Park Seonghwa [even though he damn well doesn't deserve it].

Yunho just wants you to relax.

He pulls into a very tiny spot off to the side near a residential and backs into the open area. In front of you is the view of the ocean; the sound of waves crashing against the rocks, the shore. Stars dotting the night sky.

It was a perfectly clear night. A perfect night.

"Hm, I never knew this existed." You say observing the almost hidden, tucked away area of this part of the beach. "It's really pretty."

"I come here if I just need to be away for a second." You nod.

"Perfect place to have your me-time."

"Mhm." He agrees.

"When are you seeing your mom next?" You suddenly ask as you both dig into your bags and start chomping on a few fries.

"This weekend actually."

"Aw, no Yunho for the weekend."

"It's not like you'll be missing much."

"Hey, don't say that. You're great company, I told you. I meant it." You dip a nugget into your cup of honey mustard sauce. It makes his heart melt when you say things like this, when you unknowingly reassure him in many different ways— when you're so full of positivity and all you do is share it with him, your friends.

How could Seonghwa be so dumb?

Oh well.

One man's 'trash,' that's another man's come up.

"Thanks."

"Course." You smile at him before eating some more. "I'm glad you're seeing her this weekend. I'll try not to bother you during family time."

"You're never a bother."

"Still. I want you to give your mom and aunt your undivided attention."

"Ah, they always have my undivided attention." He chuckles and sips his drink. "Are you feeling better, by the way?" Yunho sticks a fry or two into his mouth before looking back out to the view.

"Feeling better?" You tilt your head before it dawns on you. That's right, the call. The fucking call where you whined about Seonghwa even though you really didn't have to, especially to Yunho. "Oh, right. Honestly, yeah. I think I'm okay."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." You sip on your drink. "It was a spur in the moment kind of thing. I didn't really think much about it at the time and acted on what I felt at that second. But you're right, I didn't need to feel guilty. There was no reason to."

"There wasn't." He looks at you. "Have you two talked?" You shake your head.

"No, we haven't. It's fine, though. I'm surprisingly.. not bothered by it like I used to be." You let out a small sigh. "I used to be really bothered by not hearing from him. I used to cave during every disagreement we had and I'd run back to him."

"Maybe this is you moving on." Yunho shrugs. "Like I said, I wouldn't know much about things like this. But, I can only imagine it gets tiring."

"Yeah." Is all you respond with before calling his name. "Yunho?"

"Mhm?" He responds at the same softness as you do, doe-eyes glancing back over at you just as you chomp on a nugget.

"How were your past relationships, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I don't. But, past relationships?" You furrow your brows a bit in confusion, but Yunho lets out a laugh. "My only serious relationship was in high school. We dated since freshman year, then we broke up right before we went to college."

"Oh, I'm sorry. That must have been tough."

"It was. But, it was for the best. I didn't wanna hold her back and vice versa from a new chapter in our lives, plus she was going to college overseas. There was no way it was going to work."

"I'm sure it could've since you two loved each other."

"Yeah, but I think at that point love meant letting her go and letting her experience things freely. I would've felt selfish and guilty about it." Yunho thinks back to that moment, and the feeling settles in his gut a bit. Not like it used to, no. But, those times weren't his favorite, and they've always left a mark on him.

♣︎ FLASHBACK

"Hey." Yunho says lowly, already not wanting to be here. He looks at Hayun with sadness in his eyes, and it's clear that she already knows where this is going too.

"Hi." She quietly says, head dropping as she steps aside to let him in. It's quiet in the house and Yunho hates it. It's quiet, even though his thoughts are extremely loud.

He hates this.

Hayun shuts the door and leads the way up to her room. Yunho is so familiar with this, but today— it feels oddly unfamiliar, awkward. Hurtful. Sad.

Different.

She steps inside and her movements are small. She sits on the edge of her bed just as Yunho shuts the door and takes his place next to her. He lets out a breath, hands dug deep into the pocket of his hoodie. They both stare out her window, admiring the view together knowing this is probably the last time they'll get to do so. But, Yunho breaks away first, looking over at Hayun and admiring her features.

She is beautiful. She is sweet. She is everything to him.

But, he knows he has to do this. It's only right.

"You're leaving this weekend, right?" Hayun meets his eyes and nods with a tiny smile creeping at the corner of her lips.

"Mhm."

"You're going to enjoy it there. I know you will."

"Maybe." Her head falls again, eyes now focused on her hands as she fiddles with the thread of her pajama pants.

"You don't sound too excited."

"How am I supposed to sound excited when I know you're here for a specific reason?" She looks at him, and he sees the tears welling up in her eyes. It breaks his heart, but he knows he has to do this. It's only right.

"I'm sorry." He says lowly. "You know it's for the best, love." The tears are welling up in his eyes now— he truly, truly hates this. "I'm so sorry."

"Then, why?" She cries. "Wouldn't we be able to make this work? I'd call, and I'd come home to visit and—" He shakes his head and wipes her tears, thumb caressing the surface of her cheeks.

"See, that's exactly why. I don't want you to make this experience about me. You should be enjoying yourself, you should be experiencing everything you wanna experience out there. You shouldn't be shaping college around me."

"But I'm not, I can do both. I can—"

"Love, listen." He says close to a whisper. "You and I both know we're only prolonging what'll eventually happen. We're so young, we have so many things yet to experience. Being this far apart, we'll outgrow each other, and we'll end up hurting each other in so many ways." Her bottom lip trembles and pokes out, tears continuing to streak her cheeks. But, she doesn't say anything. She knows this is what needs to happen. She knows Yunho is only doing the right thing. She knows that everything he's saying is true. "I'll never be able to forgive myself if you don't experience all of this at your full potential. You have so much ahead of you, Hayun. And because I love you, all I want is for you to be happy. That's all I want for you."

"Yunho." She cries. "I'm so sorry. I hate this. I'm so sorry." She repeats, over and over again; though, Yunho isn't sure why she's apologizing. He doesn't want her to regret anything about them, about this. Yunho pulls her into his arms, hugging her tightly while repeatedly kissing her on the top of her head. He whispers sweet nothings against her head, reassuring her that he loves her, that he just wants the best for her.

That he's okay.

Even though, he's far from okay.

♣︎ END

"True." You pause to nibble on your food some more. "You haven't dated anyone after your ex?" He shakes his head.

"No. It wasn't really a priority for me. Plus, we had been together all throughout high school. I needed the time to myself." You nod.

"Understandable. Have you talked to her since then?"

"Not really. I ran into her one summer, and she acted like she didn't really know me. Kinda sad, but it's whatever."

"It's not whatever. You can be sad about that."

"It's just sad how people go from doing everything together and being really close, to suddenly being strangers again. We were very different when we ran into each other." He shrugs. "I just hope she's doing well."

"And I'm sure she wishes the same for you. Maybe she just didn't know how to approach you after so long."

"Maybe."

"Maybe." You repeat as you trace the lid to your drink while you sip on it, Yunho watching your small movements while remaining quiet for a bit.

"What about you?" He chimes in, finally having the guts to ask you.

"Past relationships?" You shrug. "I did date two people in high school. Came to college and was seeing someone I met through mutual friends. Never got super serious though, and we eventually agreed to just stay friends."

"I see."

"We're still good friends so it's nice we were able to actually get past that."

"That's good. What about Seonghwa? How did that start?"

"He came up to me after one of my performances, exchanged numbers then.. viola." You make a gesture with your hand. "This mess started." You chuckle to yourself, slightly in a more pathetic sense because yeah, it is a mess. Has been.

"It's alright. We live and we learn. Just unfortunate he's too immature to realize what's in front of him."

"Yeah, well." You set your cup down. "I think that's done with."

"Good, that's a relief." It is a relief to Yunho because that means many things:

One, you won't be with Seonghwa.

Two, you won't be with Seonghwa.

And three, you won't be with Seonghwa.

He's not even sure of his own feelings when it comes to you, but he does know that he really enjoys your company and he feels comfortable with you. It's easy to fall for you and Yunho might be heading in that direction— he just doesn't wanna scare you off, especially if you don't seem to feel the same way. Before Yunho can do a whole deep dive of his thoughts next to you, he clears his throat before stumbling on his follow-up: "I-I mean, it's good because he doesn't deserve you at all. You shouldn't continue wasting your time on him or anything." You giggle.

"Thanks, Yunho. You did help me realize that over the phone."

"I didn't say or do much. You're making your own decisions and doing what's best for you." He gives you a small smile. Another comfortable silence falls between you two as you look out at the view and appreciate the stars that are visible in the night's sky.

"Hey, Yunho?" You finally break the silence again, and it's clear Yunho doesn't mind. He truly doesn't mind all the questions you've had, and he likes hearing you say his name the way you do. It's cute.

You genuinely want to know more about him, to learn about him.

"Mhm?"

"Would it be weird if I said that I really like being with you?" He lets out a small laugh.

"Well, I would hope so." He gives you a soft smile while you giggle. "But no, not weird at all. I feel the same way."

"That's nice to know."

"Yeah, it is." He crumples his napkin and throws it into his bag, reaching out a hand for yours. "Finished?" You nod and hand him your trash, watching as Yunho makes his way to the nearby trash can.

"Thank you." You say just as he walks back towards the car.

"My pleasure." Yunho stretches.

"Hold on, I wanna see the water up close." You step out and head towards the railing, leaning over to watch the water crash against the rocks, the wall. Yunho smiles to himself and digs his hands in his pockets, slowly coming towards the rail. He looks at you from behind, watching as you admire the sea, the night sky.

Meanwhile, he's admiring you.

He lets out a breath and shakes off the thoughts, coming next to you and letting his arm brush against yours. He also leans over to watch the water more closely, foot resting on the lowest rail for more stability.

"It's so pretty." Yunho looks at you and he can't help but agree— because yes, you are.

"It is." He responds outloud.

"This was really nice, Yunho." You look up at him with a tiny, toothless smile. "Thanks for sharing this with me and for taking me here."

"Just wanted to see you smile." You feel the heat rise to your cheeks, and Yunho feels his ears getting hotter. How embarrassing. But, thank god it's nighttime and you can't see him visibly getting shy, embarrassed. "Ready to head back home? You must be exhausted."

"I am." You yawn as you start to walk back towards the car and get settled into the seats. "But, I did get lots done."

"You did." He starts up the car and starts heading back towards the apartment complex. "What are you gonna do when you get home?"

"Probably just lie down and talk to Chaery in the room." You chuckle. "You?"

"Hop on a game or just watch some stuff."

"I wanna see what your apartment looks like." He laughs a bit.

"One day."

"Promise?"

"There isn't anything special about it, Y/N. I promise you that."

"But, I just wanna see what Yunho's space is like." You say in a playful tone.

"Yunho's space is boring." He retorts.

"I'm sure it's not. So, promise me? One day I'll get to see it?"

"Sure."

"Say it, please." You pout, making Yunho shake his head.

"Promise."

"Better." You giggle, settling more into the passenger's seat. You and Yunho continue to talk a bit about the remainder of the week, not realizing that the weekend was quickly approaching.

By the end of the conversation, Yunho is pulling into the complex parking lot and effortlessly parking into his usual spot. He grabs your things from the trunk and hands over your bag, following behind you as you walk towards your building.

"Yunho, I'm just here. You don't have to walk me."

"I sure do." He replies. "It's fine, I need to make sure you make it to your door in one piece."

"I appreciate it." You give him a small smile. "Thanks again for today. I really enjoyed it, well— minus the work that had to get done first."

"Of course." Yunho smiles, stopping at the stairs. He digs his hands into his pockets, watching as you reach the top of the first flight and turning to face him.

"More McDonald's runs in the future?"

"Sounds good."

"Goodnight, Yunho."

"Goodnight, Y/N." You give him one last wave before you make your way to your apartment. When he hears the door shut, he turns on his heel to make his journey to his own apartment.

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