#and how the lights are in my classes?? why are they so bright especially the science class like what

[18is]

quick doodle of ashlyn but she’s in one of my outfits

it looks wonky but who cares

edit i forgot her freckles my life is over

[wqnwoos]

Your first and only semester as TA throws your previously unassuming college life into disarray, fuelled almost entirely by the brown-eyed and charming student who’s slipping closer to failing with every lecture. And in return for your mathematical assistance, Lee Chan decides he’s going to set you up with the guy you’ve been persistently pining over for a year and a half. It’s a simple equation: you teach him calculus, and he’ll teach you how to flirt. Except, as you’re both quick to discover, mathematical equations don’t translate over to real life as easily as you’d expect.

as part of the svt ta collab hosted by @camandemstudios !

⇢ pairing: lee chan x ta!reader

⇢ genre: fluff, idiots2lovers, minor angst?

⇢ wc: 10.2k (i’m just as surprised as u are)

⇢ a/n: so many people to thank (the whole collab server for all the sprinting!!) but especial thank u to cam (@/highvern) and em (@/gyuswhore) for hosting this collab. they put SO much work into this and i couldn’t be more grateful to be part of it, so thank you both for everything!!! and thank you to alta (@/haologram) for being my first official beta ever and managing to convince me to not trash the whole thing <3

“I NEED YOUR help.”

Those are probably the last four words you expect to come out of Lee Chan’s mouth. Because you’ve graded his assignments and you’ve seen his work and you’re pretty sure he’s doing above average in the calculus class you’re TA’ing this semester. 

So when he manages to corner you after one of the lectures to ask for some extra tutoring, you’re startled, to say the least. “You need my help?”

He nods, once. You cock your head to the side, and your surprise must show on your face, because he fishes a slightly crumpled looking paper out of his bag. You recognise it as the latest quiz, one that, fortunately, landed on the other TA’s marking pile. Scrawled at the very top, in Joshua’s unforgiving red pen, is a glaringly large ‘F - 27%’.

“It was only a pop quiz,” you say encouragingly, hiding your sympathetic wince. “Doesn’t count for anything.”

“I can’t afford to let my grades slip,” he counters quickly, like he’s prepared for this. “Which they are And I really don’t get this module. I just think some extra time could help, but I’m terrible at teaching myself.”

You look at him for a long moment. He can’t be more than a year or two younger than you, this boy with eager brown eyes and a hopeful smile; it’s almost charming, how he leans forward in anticipation of your reply, how worried he is about one small test. And — well. You’ve seen the grade sheets, and his grades are slipping. Not drastically, but this is your job, after all.

“Well,” you say finally, glancing at your watch. “Why don’t you come to the office hours tomorrow, and we’ll go over the quiz? And we can go from there.”

He smiles then, so sudden and bright you almost feel caught in it. “Perfect!” he agrees, as he takes his quiz back, shoving it haphazardly into his bag. “I’ll see you then. Oh, wait — my name’s Chan, by the way.”

You cast him an amused look as you zip up your own bag. “I know that.”

“Oh! Cool! Nice! That’s — yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow!” And as he backs away he stumbles over his own feet, catching himself before he topples over. He sends you a sheepish, flushed smile that makes you smile too. You’re always quick to smile at the students, and you send off the younger boy with a wave. Despite being a math major who loves her subject, you know just how much people despise it. Especially calculus.

“What’s got you thinking so hard?” A light voice interrupts your thoughts, and you jump, before turning to face Hong Joshua with a smile just as sheepish as Lee Chan’s was only moments ago.

“Nothing much,” you say, laughing awkwardly. Trying to look anywhere but at his honey brown eyes, you shuffle papers as you continue. “Just about how much people hate math.”

Joshua smiles that breathtaking smile, and your stomach quite literally does a flip. “Why? People bullying you for being smart again?”

You’d mentioned to him that you got made fun of in high school once for liking math. He refuses to let it go: you roll your eyes at him. “No. It was just a train of thought.”

“People who hate math are just not as cool as us,” he says, picking up his own folder, flashing you another smile.

(Us. Your stomach could be Simone Biles, with the amount of somersaults it’s landing today.)

“But anyway,” he continues, checking the time with a frown, “I gotta go. I’ll see you around, dude.”

Dude. There it is: just as quickly as you inflate, you deflate, watching him leave with a wrinkled brow. The problem with Hong Joshua is that he makes it incredibly easy to fall for him — and all the while, he’ll remain incredibly oblivious. You’re just another one of the sorry suckers who isn’t careful enough to nip it in the bud. But really, can you be blamed, when he looks like that? When he acts like that, all sweet and caring and let-me-hold-open-the-door-for-you?

You snap yourself out of your reverie with a sigh. Back to reality, as your mother always says — and your reality is the pile of algebra waiting for you back home.

“What I don’t understand,” Seungkwan says thoughtfully, pacing Chan’s room with his hands folded behind his back, “is why you’re putting on cologne to go to office hours.”

Chan hears the know-it-all tone under his roommate’s pretension, and he resents it. Running a final hand through his hair, and glancing himself over in the mirror one more time, he turns back to Seungkwan with a frustrated scoff. “Does it matter?”

“A problem shared is a problem halved,” Seungkwan wheedles, “In this case, it’d be a problem thirded. Three’d. You know what I mean - there’s three of us to share your problem. Right, Vernon?”

Vernon just blinks from his seat on Chan’s bed, slow and confused. “I don’t really know what we’re talking about. But sure.”

“Nothing,” Chan answers brutally, snatching up his bag. “We’re talking about nothing. Because I don’t have a problem, and Seungkwan’s just being nosy.”

“Look at him!” Seungkwan gesticulates loudly to Vernon, “look how dressed up he is. For class — for calculus! Nobody dresses up for calculus!”

“Ahhh,” Vernon nods slowly, drawing it out; and then he pauses, furrows his brows and asks mildly, “But isn’t that just because he has a crush on his TA?”

Chan hisses; Seungkwan triumphs. “I knew it!” he declares with glee, “I knew there was something! Who is she? Do you have a picture?”

“Nobody,” Chan grinds out, grabbing his backpack and jamming his feet into his worn-out shoes, casting Vernon a resentful look. “And I do not have a picture. But if I did, I wouldn’t show you. Goodbye.” And with that magnificent gesture, he shuts the door firmly behind him.

He’s not late to office hours. He never is. In fact, he’s three minutes early, but you’re already there, along with one or two other classmates he knows by sight but not by name. You’re leaning over one of their desks, talking rapidly as you gesture to the papers in front of them, lanyard swinging.

Chan doesn’t have a crush on you, contrary to what seems to be popular belief. Well. Not a big one. Like, a teensy tiny one, maybe. He thinks you’re pretty, and you’re smart, and you’re incredibly kind. But does he have a crush on you? No. Are his intentions here solely to get to know you better, in order to have a crush on you? Yes. In fact, that’s exactly what this is. Pursuing the butterflies in his stomach. Just out of interest, he reminds himself, as he pushes open the door and you turn around. Pure, innocent interest.

Within an hour of his entrance, you’ve explained every one of Chan’s mistakes — and there were a lot — in digestible detail. Twice as efficient and twice as digestible as Lee, the old, weak-voiced professor with an evidently wrong glasses prescription. He says as much to you, which has you laughing and shaking your head. (“Don’t,” you scold, even as you smile, “he’s so nice, though.”)

The professor is nice. Chan thinks you’re nicer.

He leaves office hours even brighter than he entered. Those butterflies are multiplying.

And, as it turns out in the very next week, when there’s yet another pop quiz — Chan is under the suspicion that Professor Lee doesn’t plan his lessons and just shoves last year’s quizzes at them instead —  he does actually need your help. His grades are getting worse. There’s always the other TA, Joshua, who Chan actually happens to know, but Chan thinks that his half-crush is worth following up on. At the very least, you could be a good friend.

Is pretending to need calculus tutoring in order to get to know a girl his finest moment? No. Because as much as he tries to justify this with his slipping grades, he knows perfectly well he could be doing excellently (well, averagely) if he put a little more effort in. But is that as appealing as the TA with the best laugh he’s ever heard? And so, somehow, with impressive persuasive skills he probably picked up from Jeonghan by accident, Chan manages to wheedle you into tutoring him, smiling as you hmm’ed and haa’ed and bit your lip nervously. 

“I’ve got a full list already,” you had said slowly, and he’d jumped in before you could go down the route of polite refusal.

“I know, I know, but seriously — I’ll be the best student you’ve ever had! I’m a good learner, I swear. I can study whenever you want.” 

Which is how he landed himself early morning sessions — and when you said early, you weren’t kidding. The times you’ve scheduled for him to start range between eight to ten, and he specifically didn’t book morning classes this semester because he loves his sleep. But still: his grades are slipping, and there’s a cute girl on the line, so he takes his success with warmth  — or perhaps it’s just the thought of spending more time with you, but whatever it is, he feels like he’s glowing, inside out. 

Your first tutoring session with Lee Chan goes surprisingly well. The moment he began halfway guilt tripping  you into tutoring him (“Imagine if my grades slip so far, I don’t get to graduate on time. Could you live with that?”), you knew he was something. And somehow, you still agreed to this, despite being loaded with all the shit a master’s student has on their plate, on top of TA’ing. Maybe you should work on saying no sometimes, but who are you kidding? You don’t have time to deal with your possibly self-destructive flaws, not when your to-do list is three miles long 

Despite your qualms, however, Chan turns out to be a great listener. He doesn’t act pissy when you tell him he’s doing something wrong, either, which is already better than half your students. 

“I probably seem really stupid,” he says with a quiet laugh, as he re-attempts a question from the last quiz.

“Not at all,” you say instantly. “Don’t tell Lee, but calculus is the worst, anyway.”

He lifts his head with curved lips — “Oh? From the words of the mathematical extraordinaire herself?” 

Immediately, you’re growing hot, shaking your head and laughing, looking away. “Oh, come on. Don’t call me that.”

Chan’s eyes don’t move from yours — it’s like you can physically feel the weight of his gaze, sometimes. You’ve never met someone with so much… presence. “Why not?” he asks. “Own it. Professor Lee says that about you all the time.”

“Okay, not me specifically,” you correct quickly, “he says that about Joshua too.”

Chan clicks his tongue dismissively. “Yeah, but Joshua’s a piece of shit anyway, so…”

Your surprise must be visible on your face, because when Chan looks back at you, he laughs out loud, louder than the other students in the library are happy with; they cast him dirty looks, but it’s like they bounce straight off him. He only lowers his voice a little, leaning closer. “Joshua and I are friends,” he explains, amused, “I’m not serious. But anyway, if you don’t even like calculus, what are you doing TA’ing it?”

You shrug. “I don’t know, just… Lee asked me to, so I was like, why not?”

“I can’t imagine anything worse,” Chan says bluntly, “than teaching a bunch of people how to integrate shit.”

A giggle slips out of you before you can prevent it; he makes you do that a lot. Laugh, without meaning to. “Well. That’s why I majored in Math. I don’t mind.” You hesitate. “What are you actually majoring in?”

His eyes do that thing again. Sparkle. He bites down on his lip, as if suppressing a smile. “Math.”

“What?” You can’t help it, you’re laughing again, louder this time and trying to stifle it. “You never said!”

“You never asked!” He mirrors your incredulous tone teasingly. 

“You just let me embarrass myself like that.”

“You didn’t do anything embarrassing.” 

You try to ignore his eyes on you again, picking up your pencil to doodle awkwardly in your notebook. “I thought you were like… on a sports program. Or in, like, accounting or something.”

Impossibly, his smile widens. “Those are two very different things.” 

The playful lilt to his tone does something to your stomach. “Have you finished your question yet?” You change the subject so sharply that he laughs again, sliding his notebook over to you.

You glance over it, blinking in surprise. “That’s perfect,” you say, pushing it back towards him. “Well done.”

That smile shifts into something more — well, if you didn’t know any better, you’d call it flirty. Lopsided and charming. “Yeah, well,” he says, packing up his stuff, “I‘ve got a great teacher.”

The tutoring sessions continue to pass much the same. Chan does his work, but keeps stopping to ask you all kinds of questions in between. Your favourite colour. Your favourite type of coffee. Your favourite movie, TV show, your hometown — somehow, his easy, open nature has you telling him all kinds of things, and more than that, you’re asking him all kinds of things in return.

“You know, I’m not like this with the rest of my tutoring roster,” you observe quietly, as you finish a story about your high school prom. “Like, at all.”

“Good!” he says, grinning at you. He’s wearing glasses today, you notice. He looks — nice. Cute. “That’d be like you’re cheating on me. I’m your favourite student.”

Slightly appalled, you nudge him. “Not true! I’ve never said that. I don’t play favourites.”

“I do,” he says just as swiftly. “I’m your favourite. I can tell.” He pats your hand. “It’s okay, you’re my favourite too.”

You pull your hand away, ignoring the swoop of your stomach. “Focus!”

“How am I supposed to focus when you’re right there?” 

“Easily,” you snap, “since you’re my favourite student.”

Chan positively beams when you say it, not even attempting to hide it as he returns to the problems in front of him. “As long as you can admit it.”

At the end of the session, Chan digs into his bag and slides a candy over to you, and you can’t help the smile that splits your face open. “No way,” you cry, picking it up, “I love these! How did you know?”

He smiles, not even glancing at the candy once, fixing his eyes on you. “You told me. Like, a week ago.”

You barely remember that Something swells up inside you, tight and hot and sweet. “Oh, wow. Thank you, Chan.” You hope he can hear how touched you are, because you can’t quite express it. 

“It’s nothing,” he says, with a small smile, one you can’t quite read. “We’re friends, right?”

“Yeah,” you say after the shortest of pauses. “Of course. We’re friends.”

He truly is something else. Almost your opposite, with his confidence and his openness and outright friendliness. You can’t quite put it into words, but something warm just pours out of him.

When you say as much to Minghao, your best friend, he laughs in your face. “Chan? Lee Chan?”

“He’s nice,” you protest lightly. Minghao somehow knows him, through Jeonghan or something or other. Briefly, you wonder how many people Chan knows — which really just proves your point. He’s annoyingly likeable, and even though you have to be forced to admit it, he is easily your favourite out of all the students you tutor. It’s barely even a competition; it’s not a competition. Your other students are fine, but they’re not quite Chan.

“Lee Chan is a little shit,” Minghao says with a hidden affection you’ve had to learn to detect. “But, yeah. He’s a good guy.” There’s a pause filled by the surrounding murmurs of people in the coffee shop you guys are in. It’s always overflowing with people, but it’s the only place that serves halfway decent herbal tea for Minghao, so the two of you always end up meeting here.

“How’s Joshua?” Minghao asks suddenly, doing the annoying thing where he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Still as sexy and gentlemanly as ever, is he?”

At the very mention of his name, you feel yourself growing hotter. “He’s fine,” you say shortly. “Busy.”

Your crush on Joshua has never been a secret from Minghao. Even if you’d wanted it to be, Minghao would’ve worked it out in two days, tops. But, as you keep reiterating, it’s just a stupid crush. It’ll fade. Just like your crush on Kim Hongjoong two years ago, and your crush on Kim Namjoon the year before that. You have a habit of letting things die out, and you’re very comfortable in that habit. 

“___,” Minghao says seriously, “you should tell him.”

“There are literally so many things I’d do before I confess. I’d rather memorise the proof of Fermat’s Last Theorem than do that.”

“You never know if you don’t try! And besides,” Minghao adds, softer, “even if he, you know, doesn’t feel that way, Joshua’s not... well, he won’t make you feel bad about anything. You guys can still be friends. Joshua’s nice.”

Which is the sentence that echoes in your head later that same day, when your meeting with Professor Lee and Joshua is over. Lee is long gone, leaving you and Joshua to go over a few minor details with your tutor schedules and office hour planning. Joshua just looks… really good, with all his files spread out in front of him, his silky voice talking about something stupid one of his tutees had done, his long, dyed hair slightly mussed. 

“…and then he asked me how to find where the line intercepts the asymptote!” he finishes, chuckling. You’re a little late with your laugh, too busy focussing on how the afternoon sun lights up his hair, making it look lighter than it actually is.

Joshua calls your name, his smile shifting into something more concerned. “Are you okay?”

Your words stumble into each other on their way out. “I — well, yeah. Fine. I’m fine — good. I’m good.”

You guys can still be friends. 

“Actually, Josh, I wanted to ask you something,” you say in a sudden emboldened rush. 

“Go for it,” he says, smile fading ever so slightly. “Everything okay?”

“I — ” You hesitate, and in that split second, your courage disappears. You stare at him, and your brain decides for you: unattainable. Untouchable. “I forgot,” you finish lamely, ducking your head and shuffling your papers. Surprisingly, you’re not quite at the level of mortification you thought you would be.

“Ookay,” Joshua drags out, still watching you with concern, before he shakes it off and starts to gather his things. “Well, just let me know if you remember. I’m here for you, okay? We’re friends, not just TAs!”

That fucking word again. Friends. Only this time, you realise suddenly, it barely even hurts. 

Maybe you’re just getting used to it.

“So…” Vernon says, sidling up to Chan in their shared kitchen, “how’s your TA?”

Chan sighs, looking mournfully at the spicy ramen he’d just made for himself. So much for peace. It must’ve been the smell that lured Vernon out of his bedroom, but he’s clearly an opportunist; killing two birds with one stone by prying into his life and poaching his food. “Joshua is fine.”

“That’s great, but I know that already,” Vernon says, as he helps himself to some of the ramen. Chan lets him, and that must be how his friend realises something is wrong, because he’s suddenly narrowing his eyes at Chan around his mouthful of noodles. “What is it? Did she turn you down?”

Chan drags out his words. “I haven’t said anything to her. She likes someone else. I can tell.”

Vernon considers this for a moment, characteristically quiet and contemplative. “Are you sure?”

“Well — not really. But I’m like, eighty percent sure? But also I don’t really know her that well, and Jeonghan once said to me she’s always super nice to everyone, so I don’t think she’s into me. But then I also don’t know if she’s into him either! Because she’s nice to me and him and apparently every motherfucker on the planet, so it’s, like, confusing, you know? But like. I think she is into him. She looks at him in a kinda way, so…”

Vernon chews with wide eyes. “Damn. That’s crazy, bro, what are you going to do?

Chan exhales deeply. “I don’t know. I think we’ll be better off as friends. I’ll probably just… give up.”

Vernon nods slowly, already backing away. “Good luck, dude. Here for you.” He raises an awkward fist in solidarity, and that’s when Chan glances at his bowl of ramen and realises it’s empty.

Chan allows himself one day to mope. He even cancels a session for the first time, shooting you a quick message to let you know he isn’t feeling great, and he wallows. Stays in bed the entire twenty four hours, scoffing all the ramen in the house, and now he owes Seungkwan and Vernon two packs each, but still — he feels better. He’s grateful he didn’t let it get too far, at the very least. You guys can still be friends, and one day this will be a funny joke he slips into conversation.

When he shows up to the next session, a few days later, he’s determined not to show any hint of awkwardness. He plunks his books down with a renewed energy, startling you as you take out your headphones. 

“I was going to ask if you’re feeling better,” you start dryly, “but I can see that’s clearly the case.”

“Yeah. Nothing big, I’m fine now,” he waves off your concern. Heartsick, maybe. It still twinges at him, when he sees your soft smile, faintly smells your trademark perfume, your colour coded notes in front of you. He doesn’t know when highlighters became so endearing, when he learnt that you always overuse the pastel green one. 

“Okay, so asymptotes,” you begin, and Chan scoots closer, a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“You’re my asymptote,” he says with solemn seriousness, “because I always tend towards you.” 

You fluster easily, Chan has noticed. You avoid his gaze, but you’re laughing, telling him how terrible his jokes are but still — you’re laughing.

Suddenly, in only a few minutes, the thought of getting over you is a lot more daunting than he imagined. You make it harder when you laugh at the stupid joke he quips a moment later, too; you always tell him he has an infectious laugh, but yours is like music to his ears, no matter how hard you try to suppress it in the library. 

“Come on,” you say, finally, gathering yourself together. “Asymptotes. It’s our last lesson for a bit. Are you going home for Thanksgiving?”

“Leaving tomorrow afternoon,” he confirms. “What about you?”

“Tomorrow morning,” you say. “Asymptotes will be the end of this chapter, so it’s perfect timing, really. We can start the new stuff after the break.”

Privately, Chan thinks the break really is perfect timing. He can wallow a little more, back at home with the comfort of his mother’s food and his father’s baseball reruns. He’ll come back ready to finish his tutoring, ace calculus, and be your friend. With firm emphasis on friend. For a moment, he considers you and Joshua as a couple, and honestly, as much as it stings, it’s cute. It makes sense. 

After the break, winter hits full force. Your first tutoring session at the library is with Chan, and you’re layered up to the max, treating yourself to coffee as a shield against the bite of the cold outside. Vaguely, you remember Chan saying something about how he only drinks lattes hot, and so you order one for him too, taking extra packets of sugar and a stirring spoon on your way out. You know he likes to do the sugar himself.

“I’m late, I know.” You shrug off your coat when you arrive at your guys’ usual table, shaking the raindrops off your coat and hair with an apologetic smile. “It literally started pouring just two minutes before I got here, but here — coffee.” You unload your arms on the table in front of him, slightly breathless, tugging a hand through your untamed hair. 

You catch Chan looking at you, something unreadable in his gaze, and you wince. “Sorry,” you apologise again.

“It’s okay,” he says, “I’ve just — I’ve never seen you so…”

“Messy?” you finish, laughing half self-consciously.

“Disorganised,” he corrects, and it feels gentler. “You’re kind of, like, windswept?” He pauses, quieter. “You look — pretty.”

You ran to the library a solid ten minutes ago. Your heart shouldn’t still be beating this fast. “Thank you,” you reply, just as quietly. There’s silence for a beat, fraught with some sort of tension, before you slap the textbook with too much enthusiasm, “So, uh, next chapter!”

“Next chapter,” he agrees quickly, and just like that, the weirdness dissipates, and it’s just you and Chan.

At least, until Joshua steps in the library. He’s browsing the section near you; you see him before he sees you, but only by a few seconds. You just have enough time to think how cute his scarf is, and then his eyes fall on you and Chan, and he waves with a smile. 

You wave back as he nears the table. “I don’t want to interrupt,” Joshua explains quickly, “just wanted to say hi. To both of you. How’s it going?” He directs his question to Chan, adding — “Is she running you to the ground?”

“She wouldn’t,” Chan says simply. He doesn’t say much else as Joshua says his goodbyes and disappears between the shelves, but you’re still a little harried-looking, dusting down your clothes unnecessarily. 

“So,” Chan says casually, as you return your focus to him and take a sip of water to try and cool you down, “how long have you had a crush on Joshua?”

You choke. Heat curls up your neck, and not because of your coughing — hot-faced and spluttering, you demand, “What are you talking about?” Even as you speak, you can tell your voice is pitched too high. Too defensive.

The younger boy gives you a look. “Come on. I’m not blind.”

You duck your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Anyway, so this question about limits — ”

“You’re a terrible liar,” he sings, cutting you off. “You have a big fat crush on Hong Joshua!”

Eyes wide, you slap a hand over his mouth, glancing behind you in horror. “Oh my God, keep your voice down!”

Beneath your palm, Chan gives you the most self-satisfied, victorious look, and belatedly, you realise you’ve given yourself away. “Fuck you,” you say, without any venom, releasing him and leaning back, trying extremely hard not to sulk. “It’s none of your business anyway.”

“It is when you’re making googly eyes at him right in front of me. Your student.”

“I don’t make googly eyes!” you object immediately, horrified. “I’ve never made googly eyes.”

“Whatever you say, teach.”

“I don’t.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t!”

“Okay, I said.” He still has that smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. It’s infuriating.

Briefly, your mind flits back to the stumbling boy you’d spoken to when he’d first asked for your help, back in late September. You miss him, you think sarcastically. He was the total opposite of the guy in front of you now.

“So?” Chan leans forward over the desk with raised, expectant eyebrows.

“So what?”

“So, how long? A month? Two?”

Your cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. Again.

“Longer?”

 “A year,” you whisper, avoiding his gaze.

“A year?!” He practically yelps, and you have never wanted to bury yourself alive more than you do at this moment.

“A year and a half. Or something,” you confirm weakly, and then shake your head. You gently push his forehead with the eraser side of your pencil, forcing him back to his side of the desk. “But that doesn’t matter. I’m meant to be helping you with limits today.”

“I think you need more help than I do,” he says with sudden, sweet sympathy, patting your hand how he always does. You snatch it away and glare at him, but he ploughs on. “How have you not made a single move for a year and a half? You should do something about it. Move past the googly eyes.”

“Don’t want to. Can’t make me.” You tap your pencil against his open, untouched /textbook. “Now focus. On your work, and not on prying into my love life!”

He clicks his tongue softly, but picks up his own pencil again; inwardly, you let out a soft sigh of relief. Mortification still boils in the pits of your stomach — a guy you barely even know caught on so quickly. Are you really so obvious?

Chan works quietly for all of three minutes, and then he glances at you again. “I don’t want to hear it,” you say warningly, cutting him off before he can even start.

Amusement sparkles in his eyes. “I didn’t say anything!”

”You were going to.”

“I think you should make a move, that’s all.”

“I think it’s none of your business.” 

“You said we were friends now! I’m trying to help my friend!”

“I take it back. Strictly tutor and student. We’re no longer friends.”

“No, seriously. I think you could totally get him to fall for you.”

You audibly snort. “Chan, do you know how many people have a crush on Joshua? He wouldn’t look twice at me. And I’m fine with that.”

“I’m not!”

You groan, tip your head on to the textbook in front of you. Then you turn, glaring at him and his entertained smile — with a smushed cheek and sulky pout, you ask, ”Why is this such a big deal to you, anyway?”

Chan almost seems to fold in on himself when you ask that. For someone so open and friendly, he has a way of shuttering down that startles you a little. It’s subtle, but you’re starting to notice it; his avoidant eyes and the faint pink on the apples of his cheeks. “I don’t know,” he says, shrugging with obviously feigned nonchalance. “I guess — I think you deserve to be happy.”

Sometimes people say things that hit you straight in the gut. Wind you. Leave you just a little bit breathless with their sincerity. 

You open and close your mouth like a fucking fish. “Oh,” you say at last, stupidly, “that’s — that’s really nice of you, Chan.”

Whatever brief embarrassment he was experiencing, he seems to be over it. “I know. I’m the best. And that’s why I’m going to help you.”

You laugh again, amused and slightly endeared by his enthusiasm. “Okay, fairy godmother. Let’s get back to work, maybe.”

“No, seriously,” Chan insists, brown eyes sparkling. “I’m going to teach you how to flirt.”

The previous flattering you felt disappears in the space of a second. “Excuse me?” you say incredulously, but you’re laughing already, simply at the pure audacity. “Who says I don’t know how to flirt?”

“You did,” he says, matching your smile, “when you didn’t make a single move for a year and a half. But don’t worry. I’m going to help you.”

“I didn’t ask for your help!”

“No, but you need it, so I’m going to help you anyway,” he nods generously.

“How kind,” you say sarcastically, before thwacking his shoulder with your thinnest textbook.

Chan bursts out laughing as he dodges it, before switching back to that tone — the one that had you caving into him only a few weeks back, when he asked you to be his tutor. (Briefly, you wonder how it’s only been a few weeks. Part of you feels like you’ve known him forever.)

“Seriously,” he continues, “I can help you. I’ve literally never been rejected in my life.”

“Oh, yeah?” You snort, but honestly, you don’t doubt it. 

He tilts his head to the side. “Well, like, once in middle school. It doesn’t count. 100% success rate, baby.”

“99%, maybe.”

“That is not how statistics works,” he says smugly. “Thought you’d know better, teach.”

“You’re the worst.”

“I’m the best. I’m going to get you a boyfriend; literally just give me twenty minutes at the end of the rest of our tutoring sessions.”

“We only have, like, three left.” 

“That’ll be enough.”

Fuck it, you think. You don’t think this will help you with Joshua — nor do you want it to — but why the hell not? If it makes Chan happy, as it so clearly seems to…

“Ten minutes,” you sigh.

His eyes brighten. “Fifteen.”

“Fine,” you acquiesce after a short moment, waving your hand dismissively. “From next time, though. I don’t have time today.”

You try to ignore his Cheshire cat grin, but it’s infectious. You’re mirroring it by the time he slaps the desk victoriously, assuring you, “You won’t regret this, I swear.”

“I’m sure I will. So, limits — ”

“Limits,” he agrees, an infuriatingly triumphant smirk on his lips. 

You roll your eyes, but you’re still smiling. “You have no limits.”

“Lesson one,” Chan says, a little too gleefully, only a few days later. “Body language.” 

He watches you pass a hand over your forehead with a grimace. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“First tip is to not be doing things like that when he speaks,” Chan says lightly, pulling your hands away from your forehead. He places his index fingers either side of your lips, and gently, carefully, he pulls the corners of them upwards. “Smile.” 

You blink at him, and it is, unfortunately, the cutest thing he’s ever seen. “But,” he continues, shaking it off and pulling his fingers away, “you’re good at smiling anyway, so that’s not a key concern.”

Surprise appears on your features. “Nobody’s ever said that to me before. I usually get the opposite.”

Chan is slightly taken-aback, because you’re always smiling. You’re quiet, definitely, but you laugh super easy, and smile even easier than that. 

“But go on.” You change the subject quickly, and Chan realises that despite yourself, you’re getting intrigued now. 

“Tip number two,” he continues, magnanimously, “eye contact.”

“Absolutely not.”

“What? Why not?” The swiftness of your refusal startles him, but even as he asks, he kind of knows; you tend to avoid eye contact, especially when you’re shy, or embarrassed, or confused, or… well, a lot of the time. “You can practise.”

You look at him with horror. “Practise?”

“With me,” he nods, steeling himself already. “Now.”

“You’re joking.”

“I never joke,” he lies straight to your face, just to make you relax. Sure enough, your shoulders loosen almost instantly, and you let out half a smile. “Come on. Just for two minutes.” 

“Okay,” you finally agree, meeting his stare. Chan leans forward just the slightest bit, and for the first time in his life, he understands what it means to sink into someone else’s eyes. Your gaze isn’t intense, but it’s captivating, and he’s not sure if that’s his own feelings surfacing up again, or it’s just — natural. Either way, being this close to you is doing something funny to his ribs, the same thing that happened when you brought him coffee. 

He tries to distract himself. “Can’t believe we only have two tutoring sessions left.” His voice has lowered instinctively, taken on a slightly gravelly tone that seems to surprise you a little Your lips part for a second, and then you nod; he watches your throat bob as you swallow.

“Yeah,” you say, equally as hushed. “Time flies, huh?”

His lips are dry. The tip of his tongue darts out, and he watches as you seem to follow it. “Yeah. When you’re having fun.”

Chan goes home that night more confused than before, and it only gets worse when Seungkwan’s waiting for him in the living room, hands on hips. One look at him, and Chan can tell he’s going to play interrogator.

“I just don’t know if this is a good idea,” Seungkwan says, at last, after Chan slumps on to the couch. “Helping her get with Joshua. You’re going to break your own heart.”

Chan wrinkles his nose. “I am not. We’re just friends, Seungkwan. I’m over it.”

Seungkwan looks at him disbelievingly, and Chan rolls his eyes. “I’m getting over it,” he corrects himself. “But we’re fine. Don’t worry.”

“I’m your best friend,” Seungkwan replies instantly, “Of course I’m going to worry. You just — you open your heart so easily. Which is a good thing!” he tacks on hastily, “But she�� well.” 

Arching a brow, Chan leans forward. “She what?”

“Let me put it this way. You’re a romantic, and from what I can tell, she’s a cynic.”

Chan has never given much thought to what other people think about you, not until now. In all honesty, he’d had a similar perception of you, at first. Extremely organised. Kind of stoic. Nice, but distant. But now, he’s sure that nothing has ever been further from the truth. You’re reserved, that goes without a doubt, but you’re not cold. You’re kind. Care immensely for your friends, even though there are only a few of them. Shy, but sweet, and he thinks it’s a fucking shame that people can’t see that. He’d thought you were distant, but he’s heard other people describe you as uptight. Snobbish.

All people do is talk, he thinks with a little contempt. 

He looks back at his roommate. “You don’t know her, Seungkwan. She’s not a cynic.”

His friend shrugs. “I trust you. Just… be careful.”

Your second “lesson” with Chan begins with him grabbing you by the hand and pulling you in between random bookshelves. 

“Stand here,” he instructs, before patting you on the shoulders. You can feel the warmth of his hands through your sweater. “Okay,” he says, “lesson two is all about conversation. He’s going to fall in love with your mouth — not like that,” he adds quickly, when he sees you biting down on your lip to hide your laugh. “Mind out the gutter, teach.”

You grin at him cheekily. “You’re the teacher now. Come on, then.” The truth is, these lessons are more entertaining than anything. You’re enjoying it, hanging out with Chan without having to remind him to finish his questions or double-check the textbook. 

“Be serious!” he complains, but his eyes have that usual sparkle to them. He glances at your clothes for a moment. “Nice sweater, by the way. You look good in blue. But anyway, quick tips — remember what he likes, compliment him, talk about what you have in common, stuff like that. Okay, I’m going to go over and I want you to imagine I’m Joshua. So you see me randomly in the library, what are you doing?”

You snort. “Running in the other direction.”

He holds a finger up, hiding a smile at your silly answer. “Bzzzt. Wrong answer. You lose ten points.”

“When did I have ten points to begin with?” you argue, but still, you’re struggling to suppress your giggles. 

“You didn’t. You’re in the negatives.” He flicks you gently on the forehead. “Try again.���

“Ow,” you complain, pouting. “Okay, I’m meant to say hi.”

“Ding! Ten points. Back to zero.” Chan waits expectantly, and you look at him in confusion. He motions with his fingers. “Go on. Say hi.”

“I am not roleplaying with you!” you hiss, horrified, pushing his arm gently. He stumbles back exaggeratedly. “We do math, Chan, not drama!”

“Actually I do math and history,” he corrects nonchalantly, “and history is dramatic.”

Flummoxed, you repeat after him — “History? Since when do you do history?”

“Since, like, three years ago…?” He laughs at your expression, but you can’t bring yourself to mirror his lightness, for once. 

You feel rooted to your spot. “You’re a double major?” Something uncomfortable stirs in the pits of your stomach, and you know you’re not being rational — there’s no reason why this should jar you so much, but you feel jarred. “How did I not know this?” you ask, more to yourself. You turn to him, head moving so sharply he almost steps back. “Did you ever mention this?

Chan’s smile is fading. “I don’t know. Probably not.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” he laughs awkwardly, “it never came up. It’s not a big deal!”

“It is to me,” you insist, “Chan, you’re my friend! I should know this stuff!”

“It’s not a big deal,” he repeats, his brows furrowed. “Seriously. You know me better than half my friends already, and we’ve only been friends for like, a few months.” He attempts a smile — “You even know about the whole story behind that girl rejecting me back in middle school, I don’t tell that to everyone.”

“Yeah,” you say distractedly, “I guess so.”

Chan looks at the time. “Don’t you have a meeting now? With Joshua?”

You tilt your head, confused, your mind still on his history major.  “I do?”

“It’s Wednesday,” he reminds you, and you snap out of it, checking the time yourself. “You’re going to be late,” Chan laughs, gently pushing you towards your bag. “Go!”

You wave at him as you gather your stuff haphazardly, calling an, “I’ll text you later!” ok your way out. 

“Remember my top tips!” he calls back, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. You laugh and flip him off, bundling yourself out the library — only to run smack into another girl leaving at the same time. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” you apologise, helping her pick up her pencils. “I wasn’t looking!”

“It’s okay,” she assures you quickly. “By the way,” she adds, “you and your boyfriend are so cute!”

“My… boyfriend?” You hand her stuff back to her with a furrowed brow.

She beams at you sunnily. “Yeah! I always see you guys on your cute study dates over there, it’s soo sweet. The way you guys look at each other is, like, to die for.”

“Thank you,” you say automatically, before opening your mouth to correct her. But it’s too late, she’s gone and you’re left standing in the exit with a thousand thoughts rushing through your mind, ones that preoccupy you all the way back to yours and Joshua’s shared office. 

They only multiply when you see Joshua, and feel absolutely nothing. There’s no typical dip in your stomach, no stuttering heartbeat, just a familiar smile and nothing else, which is when you realise — you haven’t been feeling anything like what you used to feel.

At least, not around Joshua.

“That’s the first time you’ve been late, like, ever,” Joshua observes, “Were you with Chan?”

“Yeah, I — uh, how did you know that?” You cut yourself off to stare at him in surprise.

“Our tutoring schedules are right there,” he smiles, nodding to the pinboard next to him. You almost sigh in relief. A normal explanation, finally. Something that makes sense. These realisations and observations are nothing more than —

“But you always have a certain look after you see him anyway,” Joshua continues obliviously. “Your eyes get all shiny. You smile more.” He pauses, grins at you knowingly, “You guys are close, huh?”

“I — I don’t — ” You stutter feebly, because suddenly everything is hot and you need to lie down. “I don’t feel well,” you almost shout, way too loud; Joshua startles, but nods. 

“Okay,” he says, worriedly. “We can reschedule, but do you need a ride home?”

“No!” you snap, before taking a deep breath. “Sorry. No. I think — the fresh air will be good for me.”

Joshua lets you go, and you feel close to tears the whole way home. 

You can’t stomach this, you think, curled up in a ball under your duvet. It doesn’t make sense; you may be a math major, but none of this is adding up.

“I like Joshua,” you say out loud, and it sounds hollow. It sounds false. It doesn’t bring anything with it. 

Slowly, tentatively, you say, “I like Chan.” 

That brings so much, but more than anything, it brings warmth. Warmth like the serious brown of his eyes, his rough hands, his smile, his laugh, the way he chews his lip when he’s thinking hard about a question. 

You stick your head in a pillow and let out a scream.

Chan doesn’t know if he should invite you to the end of semester party that Seungcheol is throwing, considering his absolute failure in getting over you, but he does it anyway. He invited you to the Halloween one, and you turned him down, saying you had plans with some other friends, but he reckons it’s worth trying again, so he does just that.

Your response comes within minutes. 

[16:43] you: isn’t that the night before our last tutoring?

[16:44] chan: i know! but i’ll be on time i promise i wont even drink that much [16:44] chan: it’ll be like a celebration!!

[16:45] you: of what?

[16:45] chan: you put up with me for a full semester :)

He watches your typing bubble appear and reappear multiple times with a frown, until:

[16:48] you: i don’t “put up” with you chan

A smile. A big cheesy one that has his cheeks aching a little.

[16:48] you: we’re friends, aren’t we?

No matter how hard he tries, that still stings. 

The party sneaks up faster than expected, and Chan agrees to meet you there, because you’re coming with Minghao, and he agreed to help Seungcheol set up before he knew you were coming. Which is, you know, whatever. He’s not a little upset that he doesn’t get to pick you up in his car and do the whole opening-your-door-for-you thing — not at all, no matter what Seungkwan tries to imply.

Joshua probably would’ve, he thinks miserably, as people begin to arrive. That’s what you’d once said, ages ago, that you liked about him. 

‘He’s sweet,’ you’d said, ‘and he, like, holds doors open for me.’

‘The bar is in hell,’ Chan had said in response, making you snort with laughter, hiding your face. 

“No moping at my party!” Seungcheol yells as he sails by, carrying a load of ping pong balls — they’re setting up beer pong in the other room, but for once, Chan doesn’t feel the need to take up Jeonghan’s challenge. He dithers by the door, looking up hopefully every time someone enters, and every time, it isn’t you. 

Until it is. You come in just after Minghao, and Chan’s breath is quite literally taken away. It’s horrifyingly cliché, how gorgeous you look — you always do, but he’s never seen you dressed up before. Not like this, with a blue dress that falls to your mid-thigh, hair done to perfection. Makeup too, that makes your eyes look bigger and softer, that matches your outfit exactly.

Something swells inside him when he sees you on your tiptoes, craning your neck this way and that; instinctively, he thinks you’re looking for him. And when your eyes finally land on his, you smile so big that his insides turn molten; hot and tight and full, so incredibly full. He moves towards you without even realising, a moth to a flame. 

“You look — ” He swallows. Hard. “Amazing. You look amazing.”

You open your mouth to reply, but before you can, Minghao mutters something in your ear, gesturing to a room on the right before tugging you away. Chan watches as you send him an apologetic wave — and then you’re gone, melting into the sea of people that Seungcheol somehow knows. And he’s tugged in completely the opposite direction, casting one longing look after you.

About an hour into the party, you see Chan with someone else. A girl. Short, dark-haired, bright-eyed — pretty. So pretty.

You’re not one to get jealous, usually. But that’s the only word to describe the way your stomach drops and your heart twists. Green-eyed monster, rearing in your chest. She makes him laugh, and he touches her arm when he does, and honestly, it’s a completely innocent picture. They’re probably just friends, and you’re usually so secure in yourself, but with Chan — you feel everything but secure. It was only last week you allowed yourself to acknowledge you were halfway to falling in love with him.

Joshua was familiar, at least. This is not, which is why it took you so long to accept it. 

You smooth down your dress (“You look good in blue.”), and watch as Chan leans down to hear her over the music. Maybe it’s the second drink in your hand, which you’d only taken after being egged on by Mingyu — he’d handed you his “professional” jungle juice. It tastes like shit, but recent events have brought with them a desire to get absolutely fucking wasted.

Tragically, you’ve managed tipsy at best, but it’s still enough to have you over-emotional, and with one last look at Chan and the pretty girl, you escape the watchful eyes of Minghao to the balcony of Seungcheol’s disgustingly wealthy place to cry. Which you do, with shaky, gulping breaths, and blurred vision.

When you’ve calmed yourself just the slightest bit, you glance at yourself in your phone camera, lit up by the yellow lighting inside. The girl in the mirror is almost unrecognisable — drunk and face streaked with cheap mascara (advertised as waterproof but clearly not).

God, your head aches. When did life become so fucking complicated?

You know when; you know exactly when, that little snarky voice in the corner of your head tells you, flashing you an image of a certain brown-haired boy with his stupid smile. You know that this mess started somewhere around when he waltzed into your life, brandishing his flirting tips and stupid math puns.  What you don’t know is when he slipped his way into your heart, when you somehow gave him the power to crush it in his fingers. 

That’s what it feels like. Lee Chan has your heart in the palm of his hand, and he doesn’t have a fucking clue.

The thought makes you feel slightly sick — or maybe it’s the overconsumption of the jungle juice that Mingyu cooked up, but whatever it is, your stomach churns uncomfortably, leaving acid climbing your throat. You cast a contemptuous look at the mixture in your red solo cup, and with a sigh, dump the rest of it over the balcony next to you. You ignore the call of hey, fuck you! that comes from below, instead sinking to the floor, hugging your knees and leaning your aching, hot against the cool metal railing to blink away the tears that burn behind your eyes.

Momentarily you consider how at the start of the year, you’d never have expected yourself to be here, not in a million years. At the SVT frat house, hidden in a corner to weep over a boy. A boy that isn’t Hong Joshua — a boy that is, technically, in some ways, your student.

“Fuck you, Lee Chan,” you say bitterly, and as always, you can’t bring yourself to mean it.

“Why’s that?” A familiar voice has you snapping your head towards the balcony doorway. Tall and smiling as always, Joshua regards you with a look of mixed sympathy and pity. You resent it. 

“Fuck you too!” You try to scowl at him; it doesn’t quite work, and you’re too drunk and tired to muster up the energy to be angry at him. Joshua didn’t really do anything; the only crime you can hold against him is obliviousness. He’s not the one holding your heart in his hands. You don’t think he ever really was — at the very least, what you felt with him was never like this. There was never so much.

Joshua doesn’t say anything, just laughs and sits next to you on the floor. Both of you have your backs pressed to the railing, and he nudges you softly with his shoulder. “Everything okay?”

You swallow thickly. “No.”

He smiles ever so slightly, nodding to your tearful face. “Yeah, I mean, I figured.”

You let out a watery giggle. “God. I’m such a mess.”

Joshua hums, like he’s actually considering your words deeply. “You aren’t, really. You’re like, the least messy person I know.”

You sniffle a little. “What?”

“Come on, ___, you’re like the most put-together person in this whole university. It’s kind of refreshing to see you outside of that.”

“What, you enjoy seeing me cry?” 

“No, of course not,” he says quickly, bumping your shoulder. “Just. In general, I mean. You’ve been happier lately.”

You gesture to your tear tracks. “This is happy?”

Joshua clicks his tongue at you. “I think Chan is really good for you,” he says finally, quietly. Like he knows he’s broaching a forbidden topic — which he is. You flinch at the very sound of his name. “He makes you happy. That’s what I mean. You should give yourself a shot.”

“No,” you say immediately, automatically. “I can’t.”

“You could,” he says, without reproach. “If you let yourself.”

You let that settle. Silence falls — or at least as much silence as you can get when you’re metres away from a house party. “I used to have a crush on you, you know.” You don’t look at him, facing straight ahead thoughtfully.

Joshua smiles, rueful. “I know.”

You snap your head round, and your disbelief must be etched onto your face because he laughs. “I could tell,” he shrugs. “You got flustered so easily, sometimes.”

The slightest of groans. “I do that, apparently.” You hug your legs to you again, resting your cheek on your knees as you look at Joshua, sitting by your side. “I almost asked you out, too.” 

“I probably would’ve said yes,” he confesses honestly, but still, somehow, you don’t feel anything. “But then I saw how you are with Chan. And that is not like this,” he continues gently. “The way you looked at me back then is nothing, compared to how you look at him.”

“Don’t tell him.” You’re not afraid to beg.

“God forbid you let yourself feel something, right?” Joshua laughs a little, but his eyes bore into you with sincere sympathy. “Why are you so afraid of your own feelings?”

You don’t know what to say. But you’re saved from having to think about it, because Lee Chan himself sticks his head through the door, something shifting on to his face when his eyes finally land on you. 

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you for — ” he freezes for a second, the exact moment his eyes land on Joshua sitting next to you “ — ages,” he finishes, slowly, before taking a step back. “I should go.”

“No, stay,” Joshua says, quickly, standing up. “We were just finished.”

Chan fidgets with the end of his shirt as Joshua leaves, casting one more empathetic smile at you, and the moment the older boy is gone, Chan steps closer towards you. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I didn’t realise he was — you’re crying.” His change in tone is so abrupt, from apologetic to dead serious in half a second. ”What happened?”

“Nothing,” you say, too high-pitched. “I’m fine now. It’s fine.”

“Was it Joshua?” he demands, already looking back in the direction his friend disappeared to. “What did he say?”

“What? No. It wasn’t him.” You try to change the subject. “I am older than you, you know, I don’t need to be babysat. I hope you didn’t interrupt your fun just to come looking for me.”

He smiles, but his eyes don’t. “Only by a year. And anyway, I have more fun with you.”

You hate that your mind flits back to that girl, the laughing one. “What about your friends? I saw you with, um, what’s her name? The pretty one, dark hair?” 

Subtlety is not your strong suit. 

Chan just blinks at you. “You mean Jana? Yeah, she wanted me to play beer pong against her and her girlfriend. But I did that.” Something untwists in your stomach. He steps closer, fishing a tissue out of nowhere, and with the tenderest touch, wipes at the makeup staining your cheeks.

He’s so close, you can see every individual eyelash. “Why? Were you jealous?” he asks lightly, referring to Jana as he uses one hand to cup your cheek and remove the dark mess under your eyes more carefully.

“No!” Your voice is harsher than intended, jerking out of his grip. and his eyes flick to yours with worry.

“I was kidding,” he says softly, frowning, “Is everything okay, teach?”

Alcohol blurs your rational thinking. You lean your forehead against his chest with the deepest sigh. “Sorry. Sorry.” A short breath. “Chan, I’m so tired.”

He wraps his arms around you, rubbing your back up and down. “Are you drunk?”

You shake your head. “I was tipsy, but I only had two drinks. I’m sober now. Just… exhausted.” 

“I can take you home,” he murmurs against your ear; he’s so warm, he always is, but his touch sends goosebumps all over your skin. “Is that what you want?”

You lean back, look him in the eye, but neither of you let go of each other. Eye contact. From lesson one. “What’s the third lesson?”

“What?”

“Tomorrow. Our last lesson. What’s it on?”

He’s silent for a minute. “I don’t know,” he replies, at last. 

You cock your head to the side, questioningly, and it’s like something in him snaps, and the words come rushing out, stumbling into each other — “I’ve been making these up as I go along. On the spot.”

“Oh,” you say, surprised but too numb to feel it properly. “Why?”

He squeezes his eyes shut for a second, looking defeated. “I don’t know. Well. I do. I just don’t know how to tell you.”

Something clicks for you. I’ve got a great teacher. You’re my favourite too. You look — pretty. I think you deserve to be happy. You look good in blue. 

“Chan,” you say, taking an abrupt step back. Your voice is hoarse suddenly, scratchy with yet another realisation. “What colour is my dress?”

He looks utterly perplexed by your swift change in subject, but he obliges you anyway. “Blue. Why?”

“Do you remember,” you begin, voice shaking ever so slightly. This is the precipice. You’re taking the leap. God forbid you let yourself feel something — well, you are. “Do you remember a week ago? Lesson two?”

“Conversation,” he nods, and you can see his mind working a hundred miles an hour. 

“I was wearing that sweater, and you said — ”

“You look good in blue,” he finishes at once. His eyes flit between you and the dress, and you see the exact moment it dawns on him; the light of comprehension. “But you — Joshua — ”

You shake your head at the question he doesn’t ask. 

It’s like he’s frozen. A minute or a century passes, you’re not sure which, before his eyes meet yours again, filled with something heavy, raw, tender emotion. “How long?”

“Long enough,” you say, and then you’re kissing him, or he’s kissing you, you’re not sure who moves first, or if you move at the same time, but whatever it is — you’re melting into him and he is melting into you, and it’s like your heart gives a happy little sigh. Your shoulders relax, and the tension of the past few weeks evaporates in a few gentle touches.

You break apart with a soft little ‘tch’ sound, and he looks at you with full eyes and the shyest smile you’ve ever seen him wear. 

“You know, technically, you’re still my student,” you say, slightly breathless, entirely giddy. 

He rolls his eyes, tugging you back in already, sliding his arms around your waist. “Yeah, for a week.”

“And a half,” you add, as he begins to kiss up your neck. “You’d better ace your exam next week, after all our hard work.”

He presses his nose into your neck, huffing out a laugh. “I can’t believe that’s what you’re worried about. Now, of all things.”

“That’s what you should be worried about,” you say, bringing a hand up to his hair, running through it with your fingers as you’ve wanted to for so long. “That, and walking me home, maybe.”

“I fully intend to do at least one of those things,” he says, landing a chaste kiss on your lips. “We have a lot to talk about, you know. Starting with me asking you out. Properly.” 

A hint of mischief appears in your smile. “Do well in your exam, and I’ll consider it.”

Chan pulls back, a familiar, confident smirk on his lips. “You have yourself a deal. But until then…”

“We’re still at a party,” you say, dodging his lips with a laugh, even though you really don’t want to. Not at all. “We can’t be that couple.”

He drops his forehead against yours. “We can be whatever the fuck we want. Nobody’s looking, anyway.”

And so you let him kiss you, again and again and again, until he walks you home, and does the same at your door, and the same in your living room. Over and over, making up for all the times he wanted to but couldn’t, he whispers. Your whole body softens at the weight of his hands, travelling the small of your back, cupping your cheek, squeezing your hips. His lips are on yours, and yours are on his, and everything makes sense. Everything adds up.

a/n: (yes another) i hate this so much but i think i’ve been dealing with it too long so im just going to. throw it out there. thank you for reading!!! i’d love to hear what you think!!!! hopefully i’ll venture into longfic more often <3

[elleloquently]

too little, never late [ 1 ] : ellie williams

" can you see me? i'm waiting for the right time

i can't read you but if you want, the pleasure's all mine "

series masterlist

───⋆☆───────

ellie williams x female reader | college au - best friend!ellie

───⋆☆───────

| a/n - here it is!! decided to abandon my lowercase thing for this fic, not sure why but it felt right lmao. comments, reblogs, and asks ab this are so encouraged and appreciated <3 excited ab this one, hope you guys are toooo | c/w - warnings for the entire series are listed in the masterlist. a bit of exposition here. reader is vaguely indicated to be girly i guess and closeted (sorry!!!) switching between past/present tense is very much on purpose / intended!!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧　

It was hard to pick your favorite season on campus.

During move in every year, at the end of summer, the air felt full of promise. The music was loud from passing by cars, the bars especially crowded during syllabus week.

Winter was pretty, too, with the string lights that adorned the town and the ice skating rink that was put up downtown. It was easy to blow dining dollars on the hot chocolate and donut truck that was always posted nearby.

There was spring, when all of the campus greenery started to bloom. It felt like tradition for all classes to be skipped on that first warm day every year, the campus green filled with hammocks and picnic blankets.

But fall.

Campus felt like it was made for fall.

The sun was still warm, but the leaves were turning. It was the perfect time, the colors still bright and vivid, the brief window before they faded to brown.

Pumpkins would be placed strategically within the decorative flower gardens, a last chance for beauty and atmosphere before everything died for the winter. Come October, the statue of the university mascot would be decorated in a different costume each week, leading up to Halloween.

September was just a little bit perfect.

The warmth from summer still lingered, the promise and anticipation of the upcoming semester evident in the atmosphere. Still, there was an indication of fall. The trees were green and yellow and orange and some strange colors in between. People were already planning their Halloween costumes. Something about the sunshine this time of year always felt different. Looked a little more beautiful, maybe.

"It looks like the early 2000's here. On this street," You mumbled, stepping carefully over the curb as you gripped tighter onto the brown paper bag in your arms.

"The fuck does that mean?" Your best friend snorted from beside you, shooting you a sidelong glance.

Your eyebrows knit together immediately as you catch Ellie's glance, her pale green eyes giving you a once over. Still, you defended your observation.

"It looks like a trick or treating street," you mumbled, your sight following along the sidewalk. Leaves were already starting to fall, littering the sidewalk.

"Like how it would look when you were a kid. Reminds me of Halloweentown," you explained lightly, continuing to walk back to campus.

Paper grocery bags in hand, you were making the short journey back to campus after venturing into town. Ellie would have driven, easily, but you always preferred the walk. It was only a matter of minutes, anyway. Besides, parking downtown on a Sunday was shitty to navigate.

You didn't mind living in a college town, as opposed to some universities that existed in the middle of a big city. After growing up in the small town of Jackson, you didn't mind being in a bubble.

"Good movie," Ellie muttered, seemingly more concentrated on crossing the final busy road before you would be back on the campus pathing.

It did remind you of Halloweentown, stupidly enough. It was the first thing you had said several years ago, when yourself and Ellie had stepped off of the school bus and saw a college campus in real life for the first time.

It had been a school field trip during the fall of sophomore year of highschool. Chaperoned by several teachers and a few worrisome parents, the school had organized a weekend long college tour, an attempt at getting students excited about higher education.

Back then, you had felt smitten with the university for stupid, insignificant reasons. The aesthetic being one of them, though you would be hard pressed to deny the fact that the way in which campus looked definitely played a part in your deciding factor. The drive-in movie theater that was five minutes away from campus was a nice selling point, too.

Still, it had felt cool at the time, learning about everything that the possibility of college had to offer.

Choir was still a thing in college, who knew? And you could major in art? Your chosen extracurriculars during that time period had been just that. You were in the high school choir, and Ellie had joined the art club. You had considered joining the art club too, just because you were jealous. At the end of the year, they got to go on a trip to some cool place with a lot of museums.

You never did end up joining, though, and had been unreasonably pissed when Ellie had been gone for two days, out of state. You got your payback the next year, when the choir had gotten to go to Disney and Ellie was left in Jackson, waiting for you to come home.

Now, art was just a hobby for Ellie, and the idea of auditioning to join a college choir felt laughable. Even so, when the time came to start seriously thinking about the idea of college, Ellie couldn't quite shake the memory of how everything in her had lit up at the sight of the university planetarium when she was younger. Soon after, Ellie had learned about astrophysics.

You hadn't planned to attend the same college, but it was certainly a perk. The small things that caught your interest during that first college tour had turned into a real curiosity once junior year of highschool had hit. Turns out, the school had a lot of really good programs. The departments for your desired majors were highly rated. Tuition rates were good, which was even better. Besides. Campus was gorgeous.

You had started imagining it, thinking about it, whispering about the possibility during late night sleepovers. When it was decision season, you were both on edge. It's not like you were applying to an Ivy, but it was the future. Who wouldn't be a little freaked out? The idea of one of you getting in and not the other was humiliating and nerve wracking.

It was thrilling, then, tearing open your letters together with shaky hands in the privacy of Ellie's bedroom. It had been a damn near stealth mission trying to get to the mail before your parents or Joel got to it first.

Joel was more easy going, attempting to hide his concern and curiosity between casual questions and glances, knowing a letter should have been arriving any day. Your parents, on the other hand, had been hounding you relentlessly. But yourself and Ellie wanted the moment to yourselves, alone. So that's what you had done.

You had checked the mail multiple times a day, your heart dropping to your stomach once you finally received the letter. Instantly it was shoved into your overnight bag before you had peddled to Ellie's, your bike wheels turning faster than ever before.

Ellie had looked like a kid again when you had opened the letters, shrieking and falling back onto her bed as you clutched each other's hands, the relief palpable as you read that you were both accepted.

"We should watch it," you suggest, turning your head. Your gaze fixed upon Ellie, focused on the strand of hair that falls over her face. Her hands are full, so she halfheartedly attempts to blow it away.

"Huh? Yeah, sure," Ellie replied, appearing as though she doesn't really know what she's replying to.

Someone on a skateboard is zipping by, their trail quick and unpredictable. You don't notice that you're nearly in their path, your focus on Ellie. Ellie nudges you with her elbow, pressing you out of the way.

"Wait, can't. There's some guest speaker lecture tonight and Dina gets extra credit for one of her classes if she.. Asshole," Ellie cuts herself off, mumbling under her breath. She glared at the inconsiderate skater, moving closer to your side.

"-If she goes to it. I promised I'd go with her," Ellie finished, adjusting her grip on the paper bag in her hands.

The bag crinkles as Ellie's hands grip onto it tighter. It was nearly stuffed to the brim, and the one that you were holding onto wasn't any different. You were slightly worried that they would split and rip before you even made it back to your apartment.

The grocery shop had been necessary, but the items were not. Yourself and Ellie had ventured to the Natural Foods store downtown, throwing any item that looked cool or weird into the cart without a second thought. It was the type of store that would still require you to go to a real grocery store after the fact, leaving you lacking despite the money you had already spent.

"Oh, right. I forgot that it was tonight. What's the lecture about?" You questioned, feeling both totally fine and not fine at all at Ellie's response.

"No clue," Ellie grinned, shaking her head slightly. "Friend of the year. I'm not even the one getting extra credit."

A huff of laughter falls from your lips as you spare a glance at Ellie, not allowing your gaze to linger. It was always so easy to fall into step together, like the two of you were naturally in sync.

"You're coming, right?" Ellie asked then, drawing a shrug out of you.

"Umm, I'm not really sure. I still really need to like, study and stuff. Plus, when Dina told me about it, I didn't want to just assume that I wa-"

"I just assumed you would be going," Ellie clarified, her words coming out a little too quickly. "I mean, we all did."

You pretended to think about it for a moment, but you already knew that you would give in.

Attending some special event lecture wasn't exactly your ideal Sunday evening. You spent enough hours of your week crammed into a lecture hall already, fidgeting in your seat and watching the seconds tick by on a clock while simultaneously rushing to take notes. Besides, you really did have to study. And you didn't even know what the event was for, or what the lecture was about.

But Ellie would be there. And your other friends. And you always did have some weird thing about missing out. Even if it was just a lecture.

"I'll go," You said decidedly, barely catching Ellie's gaze before she pulled her eyes away from your own.

As your apartment building came into view, you found your steps quickening. The walk had been nice, but you knew that you were both sick of carrying the bags by now.

Your apartment was one that belonged to the university. Since it was a campus apartment building, it wasn't quite as great as the others around town. They were essentially glorified dorms. But financial aid had paid for the majority of it, so you wouldn't complain. Or, just not often, at least.

"Cool," Ellie mumbled, her posture relaxing a little.

In an instant, Ellie's hand is reaching out to the bag that you're holding as soon as a small tear forms at the bottom of the brown paper.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧　

"We need to leave soon."

"I know."

"We really need to leave soon."

"I know," Ellie grumbled, a soft huff escaping her. She turned over in your bed, eyeing you with an expression that could only be described as a slight glare.

You met her eyes from where you were sat at your desk, twisted around in your chair to look at her. Ellie was laying in your bed, with her head on your pillow and your throw blanket wrapped haphazardly around her. It wasn't a new sight in the slightest, and neither was the uncomfortable feeling that it prompted in the pit of your stomach.

You confused it with annoyance, sometimes. Or discomfort.

Even so, it was normal for the two of you to share a sleeping space, or to feel just as at home in the other person's bed. After all, you had been best friends for years now.

There had only been a brief period when it had been weird, only because Ellie had made it so.

It had been junior year of highschool. Ellie had dated a girl for a couple of months, and promptly stopped sharing the bed with you during sleepovers. It had been annoying at the time, and completely ridiculous. You tended to get defensive about it, insisting that it was always normal for the two of you to share a bed.

Your arguments were unwavering, because why was it suddenly strange for two best friends to share a bed? Ellie would only grumble in response, insisting that it was different.

Their relationship didn't last long. The usual sleepover routine promptly resumed after.

"You literally only come over to nap," you accused, turning back towards your desk to glance in your mirror.

"Shut up. That's not true," Ellie huffs defensively. She sits up as if to prove her point, shoving your favorite stuffed animal away from her. You catch the action in your mirror, an automatic frown pulling your lips downward.

"What else am I supposed to do? You take forever anyway, Jesus," Ellie continued, and the action of mumbling her defenses under her breath seems to be more for herself than for your sake.

"You could get ready, too," you suggest, only because you know that it would annoy her further.

"I am ready?" Ellie's eyebrows knit together, her gaze fixed upon your reflection in the mirror. She looks confused instead of irritated, and you feel just a little guilty. If you were closer to her, you would attempt to swipe away her slight frown with your thumb.

"I'm kidding," you soften, because it was impossible not to around your best friend. Your eyes meet hers in the mirror, and the smile that you offer her is small. It's still hot outside, but Ellie is wearing a gray hoodie that you're almost certain she will never let go of.

"Are you gonna be too warm?" Your gaze flicks around the items cluttering your desk before you shift in your chair again, giving Ellie a once over.

Ellie shakes her head, rolling her eyes despite the way in which the corners of her lips faintly twitch upwards. "I'll be fine. Those lecture halls are always cold as shit, anyway."

Ellie's response raises a good point, so you're quickly moving away from your desk and towards your closet instead. Ellie opens her mouth to speak, but the sound of a text tone coming from your phone interrupts her.

"Check it please," you instruct in a mutter, rifling through your cardigans and hoodies.

Ellie automatically obliges, pulling herself away from your bed and carefully moving towards your desk to retrieve your phone. "Dina wants to know if we're meeting up at the event or before... Why the hell is she texting you?"

"Why wouldn't she be texting me?" Your response is immediate as you frown at a sweatshirt. It's faded and worn, but that almost made it better. You had gotten it as a souvenir from a planetarium trip with Ellie and Joel.

Ellie registers the change in your tone instantly, glancing at you instead of at your phone. "No, I mean- Did you even tell her that you were going?"

"You said everyone assumed-"

"But you never confirmed-"

"She probably just knows we're together." You turned to face Ellie, shooting her a pointed look while holding the sweatshirt against your chest.

Apparently, Ellie wasn't great about answering texts. That wasn't your experience, but you had heard Jesse and Dina complain about it enough times to assume. "Have you even bothered to check your phone?" 

"Shit," Ellie mumbled, reaching to fish her phone out from the pocket of her jeans. She hadn't checked her phone in a few hours, probably. The look that crosses Ellie's features though, indicated that Dina hadn't even bothered to reach out to her first.

Your lips quirked upwards as you watched her, rolling your eyes. "Just tell her we'll meet them there." You turn back towards your closet, contemplating your options.

Ellie's gaze lingers on you for a moment before she shakes her head, turning her attention back to your phone. Her own phone is replaced back into her pocket before she slides into your desk chair, grabbing your phone carefully in her grasp. The screen lights up, flashing Ellie with a picture of your lock screen.

The picture was just a little blurry. Dina had been the one to take it. You all had gone to a concert about a year ago, which gives reason to the dark background of the picture. You were grinning wildly, Ellie's arm slung around your shoulders as she wrinkled her nose at the camera.

Ellie simply looked at the photo for a moment, before remembering why she was even holding your phone in the first place. You hear Ellie swear under her breath, but you don't bother to look this time.

It was muscle memory as Ellie entered your password, unlocking your phone. She navigated her way to your messages with Dina, her fingers pausing briefly on the screen before she typed.

you

we'll meet you there

Ellie thinks for a moment, her lips twitching briefly as she added an additional text, an obvious indicator to Dina that it was not you that was responding, but Ellie.

you

dick

Your phone sounds again as Ellie is still holding it, the response from Dina being immediate.

dina ✩

you never answer your phone!!!

Ellie scoffs, but can't suppress the grin that appears on her lips at Dina instantly knowing that it was her. Ellie's next response is a quick one.

you

🖕

dina ✩

🫶

"What are you doing?" Ellie questioned, tearing her eyes away from your phone as you draw her attention once more.

You paused momentarily, holding the strap of your bag in your hand. "I'm gonna take my notes," You admitted, chucking the sweatshirt at Ellie before stepping towards your desk. "I wasn't joking. I like... Really need to study."

Ellie clumsily caught the sweatshirt with her free hand, snorting at your response. "Bullshit."

"It's not," you denied, rolling your eyes. Ellie's gaze followed your hands as you rifled through binders and books on your desk, fingers dancing around cosmetic products that were also currently littering your desk.

Ellie gently sat your phone down, reaching for a bottle of nail polish. The color was familiar, as it was the one you were currently wearing. You had painted them just a few days ago. Ellie knew because she had been with you, and the nail of her pinky finger was painted the same color to prove it.

Ellie never really painted her nails by her own volition, but she usually let you paint them whenever you had asked. The color was a bit glittery this time, and Ellie opted for a pinky.

"So should I say that we're gonna be late, or?" Ellie questioned, her eyebrows raising slightly as she continued to watch you.

"We're not. I'm ready, see?" You pull a textbook away from the pile, waving it at Ellie. She swatted at the book, rolling her eyes in response. It was a habit she never seemed to shake, one that you seemed to mirror quite often.

It's a cue when you shove your textbook into your bag, and Ellie pushed out an exhale. "Yeah yeah, I see," she mumbles, standing up from the desk chair.

The sweatshirt is placed back into your hands after you hoist the strap of your bag onto your shoulder, your smile nearly impossible to bite back at Ellie's mumbling.

"Let's go though, before we actually are late. Seriously, Ellie. You take forever to get ready." Your tone is dry but the amusement at your own joke is evident by your expression.

Ellie practically scowls, reaching out to swat at you once more. "You're the worst, you know that?"

Ellie's half hearted movement is easily dodged, and you couldn't decide between feigning offense or giving her a hard time.

"You love me," you decided to say, and that seemingly shuts Ellie up.

Ellie eyed you for a moment, but her response lacks any weight. "Whatever. Don't forget your dumb key again."

"Oh my G- That was one time," you defended, leaving Ellie to trail after you as you turned on your heel, an indication of your exit.

"Yeah, one time too many." Ellie's voice lowered slightly as you both stepped into the hallway, turning around the corner and heading for the elevator. "You called me at almost like, two in the morning."

You nearly winced at Ellie's words, an awkward grimace-like-smile appearing on your face. She was right, anyway. But it had only been one time.

It was towards the end of the spring semester last year. Of course, you hadn't remembered your key until it was too late, arriving at your door after a night out with Dina without any way to get inside.

Instinctively, you had called Ellie. It had been late and you were humiliated, not wanting to bother anyone in your building until morning. Ellie had shown up for you in under fifteen minutes, not even pretending to be annoyed because she could tell by your voice on the phone that you had felt awful.

The impromptu sleepover had been nice, though. Carefully spaced apart in Ellie's bed, the two of you had scrolled through your photos and videos dating back to the first year that you had met until you had eventually fallen asleep, phones dropping limply against the blankets.

"Shut up," you mumbled weakly, face warming slightly at the memory of your embarrassment. "We had fun that night."

"Yeah, we did," Ellie relents with a grin.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧　

It had taken nearly twenty minutes to walk to the building that the event was being held in. By the time you had actually made it, the sky was growing dark.

You weren't entirely familiar with the building. You knew that most of Dina's classes were held here though, so you could only assume that the event had something to do with that. It would make sense, considering the whole extra credit ordeal.

You were slightly anxious that the two of you actually were going to be late, but the sight of a crowd in the lobby instantly eased your worries.

You spotted Jesse first, due to his height.

"There." You nudged Ellie's arm with your own, causing her to follow your gaze. Ellie nodded and so you grasped the sleeve of her hoodie, leading her towards your friends.

Dina soon came into view, as well as someone else that you didn't recognize.

"You guys are the best," Dina gushed instantly, throwing her arms around yourself and Ellie in greeting.

"You didn't say that to me when I got here," Jesse frowned, raising an eyebrow at Dina once she pulled away.

"Oh please." Dina rolls her eyes, but it's lighthearted. "You're the best for driving me," she tells her boyfriend. Jesse laughs at her easy response, shaking his head before bumping his fist against Ellie's shoulder in greeting.

Ellie wrinkled her nose, jerking her shoulder away from Jesse. It was crazy how such tiny things could manage to transport you back through time.

It almost felt like the beat of your heart faltered once Ellie met your gaze, her expression instantly changing into an amused smile instead.

She had these mannerisms that were so Ellie, unchanging despite the time that had passed. You had tried to describe it to her before, but she just didn't get it.

Even so, the way that she looked at you now, as though you were both a part of some inside joke or something, threw you back to freshman year of high school.

That had been the year that the two of you had met.

Since Jackson was a relatively small town, having a new kid start in your class wasn't exactly a frequent thing. Whenever it did happen, it always ended the same way. Within a week, the new kid would always end up being integrated into an already existing group, the number of friends associated with each other being more than you would certainly ever have in a lifetime.

It was a consistent track record, so you almost didn't think anything of it when an unfamiliar girl was assigned to sit next to you in biology.

You had been feeling pretty bleak about starting high school. The friends that you had been closest to throughout middle school had changed over the summer. There was nothing wrong with the concept in general, but it hadn't been a good type of change.

Starting freshman year with little to no friends didn't exactly give you the most optimistic start.

But then, entered Ellie.

Auburn hair, shuffling feet, and a book bag adorned with space themed pins.

You had told yourself it was your anxiety, the way in which your cheeks had burned when Ellie had been instructed to take the empty seat next to you. Admittedly, you had been a little shy, forcing yourself to stare straight ahead without sparing her a glance. But then, you were worried about seeming rude. On the other hand, the probability of a potential new friend was slim. You knew how these things usually went.

It was stupid, really, the thing that made you even speak to her in the first place. But you were grateful for it.

While reaching for a fallen pencil under the table, your eyes had drifted to Ellie's shoes, a pair of red Converse. It's not like it was an uncommon choice, but something about it had caused you to feel a flicker of camaraderie. You had been wearing Converse too, only in black.

As you straightened up in your chair, pencil in hand, you found the words leaving your mouth before you could think it over.

"I like your shoes," you had said, seemingly catching Ellie slightly off guard.

She had only blinked at you for a moment before glancing down at her shoes, which led her to notice your own. "Oh, hey. I like yours too," Ellie had responded.

You didn't normally just start conversations like that, but Ellie wouldn't have known any better at the time.

Hushed conversations at your shared table in the back of the science classroom turned into seeking each other out in the cafeteria, which turned into begging for sleepovers on the weekend.

You learned a lot about the girl that had moved from Boston to Jackson, and she had learned a lot about you, too.

The two of you were quickly inseparable.

You would scrounge up whatever coins you could find, hauling them to the arcade at the nearest mall. Ellie had begged Joel for a bike for Christmas, purely so she could ride around town with you. You would press bandaids on each other's knees, scraped up from whenever you laughed entirely too hard and closed your eyes while steering, or from Ellie trying to knock you off of your bike as a joke, causing her to internally panic when she had actually succeeded.

The entirety of your friendship was captured in photo strips and homemade birthday cards. The first time you had ever used the photo booth at the arcade, all of the photos came out looking nearly identical because you couldn't stop grinning to make any other expression or pose. For the final photo, you had managed to throw up a peace sign, prompting Ellie to stick up her middle finger at the camera.

Luckily, the photo had been snapped before you gasped, your eyes widening at Ellie. It wasn't a big deal in the slightest, but your parents were... Strict. Your sleepovers typically happened at Ellie and Joel's.

You had whined at Ellie, complaining that there was no way that you could hang up the photos in your room now. Ellie tore the bottom photo off in response, keeping the middle finger picture for herself and leaving you with the rest. You had both hung them up in your rooms.

Joel was essentially another parent to you. He adored you, evident in the way in which he had called you sweetheart, prompting a bewildered expression from Ellie and a delayed moment of her howling with laughter. But really, he adored the way in which Ellie had so quickly found a friend after the move, and how her face always lit up whenever she talked about you. He didn't even mind that she seemed to spend more time on her phone, always knowing that it was you that she was texting. 

Despite how comfortable you always found it to be at Ellie and Joel's house, there wasn't the exact level of comfortability at your own. There were just a few things that your parents didn't know about Ellie. But that was okay. Anything to keep up the sleepovers, to keep up your parents allowing Ellie to join you on weekend trips and vacations.

When Ellie's birthday had rolled around in the spring, the pressure was on. It's not like you had much money to even spend at that age, but in the span of a few months, Ellie had quickly become the most important person in your life. You wanted to do something nice for her, even if your realistic capabilities didn't exactly match your personal standards.

The gift ended up being a small pack of space pins, new ones to add to her collection. A few of them were designed to look like different planets, while one of them looked like a little rocket. In addition to the pins, you had made Ellie a birthday card, the colored construction paper being filled with sappy paragraphs of friendship, memories, and promises.

Years later, Ellie obviously no longer used the same bag from freshman year of high school. She still had the pins, though, and they were attached to the bag that she used for school now.

Jesse's voice gained your attention, and Ellie ignored the twinge of disappointment that she felt when your smile was pulled away from her, and instead directed towards the stranger that Jesse was now introducing the both of you to.

Ellie attempted to listen, focusing her attention on the stranger, Connor. She had heard Jesse briefly mention him before in passing, but it never seemed like they were actually friends. They had met the previous year, and shared a class together now. That was the extent of Ellie's knowledge.

"Hey," Ellie mumbled with a slight nod, admittedly more focused on the way in which you were fidgeting with the strap of your bag that was over your shoulder.

"Are you good?" Dina questioned, raising her eyebrows in amusement as she watched you at Ellie's side.

You nodded, just barely getting to respond before suddenly Connor was addressing you.

"Where are you coming from?" Connor asked, focusing his eyes on you.

"What?" You were a little caught off guard, not grasping the meaning of his question.

"Where are you coming from?"

"Oh. Um, my apartment?" You blinked at him, before realizing his curiosity must've been piqued by your bag. "Oh. No, I just like... Need to study," you responded, your words fumbled and awkward.

"Dedicated to your classes, I respect that," Connor responded, his smile growing slightly.

Ellie resisted the urge to scoff. Dedicated to your classes? Yeah, maybe. Knowing that you'd have a stomach ache due to anxiety all night if you didn't at least attempt to study? That was more likely.

You mumbled something in response, a forced laugh exiting your lips as Jesse and Dina genuinely laughed. They knew you well enough, anyway. They knew your effort was practically a futile one.

When you looked at Ellie, she made a face that indicated that she wanted to roll her eyes, but was holding back. It almost made you laugh, too.

The light conversations continued as the five of you made your way into the auditorium once the doors had finally opened. The room was actually pretty full, and Ellie couldn't help but wonder how many people were actually interested in the event, and how many had shown up because they shared a major with Dina and were also offered extra credit.

"I've heard this speaker before, actually. He's really good. Even if the content matter isn't the most... Interesting, he makes it engaging, at least," Connor said as you had walked through the rows of seats.

When Connor talked, it felt as though he was performing instead of participating in the conversation. It was almost unsettling, how his expression never faltered. Or maybe he was fine. Maybe Ellie was just tired and being judgmental. 

Jesse and Dina had agreed to sit in the back, so that’s where you all had gone. 

“When? Did you listen to him speak before, I mean?” 

Ellie’s head nearly snapped in your direction as you posed your question, her eyebrows drawing together. She didn’t really know why she was surprised that you were participating in the conversation, but she was. 

“It’s a yearly thing, right?” Jesse answers on behalf of Connor, glancing at him to confirm the answer. Connor nodded, and then you did, too. 

“Is it the same thing every time?” Your voice sounds again, another question as you had glanced between Jesse and Connor. 

“A… Sort of variation of it, I guess? But I swear, you won’t hate it. If you can spare a few seconds throughout your studying,” Connor joked, his eyebrow twitching upwards as he met your gaze. 

The corners of your lips faintly twitched before you tilted your head to look at Ellie, making instant eye contact. The action, however small, soothed whatever weird thoughts had started floating around Ellie’s head within the last two minutes. 

"Even if it's the most boring hour of my life, it's worth the damn extra credit," Dina concluded, causing a snort of laughter from Jesse.

"That's my intellectual," Jesse teased, earning a laugh from you and a groan from Ellie. Dina lightly shoved at his arm, but let him lace his fingers with her own anyway.

The interaction managed to hold Ellie's attention for a moment, until she felt you move away from her side.

The group of five had been standing in the aisle, lingering by a group of seats. You had moved to sit down though, evidently more seriously concerned with glancing over your textbook than Ellie had actually assumed. Ellie was going to turn back to Dina and Jesse and make some smart remark, until she noticed Connor moving to sit down, too.

Ellie's eyebrows practically furrowed as her eyes followed Connor's movements. It looked like he was intending on sitting down next to you, which didn't make sense. Why would he sit next to someone he had just met, like, five minutes ago? Jesse was right there, why wouldn't Connor wait to sit next to him? Or go find his own damn seat, somewhere else?

Ellie watched for a split second, tuning out the rest of Jesse and Dina's banter. No, yeah. Connor was definitely trying to sit next to you. Which didn't make sense. Right? Who does that?

"What are you studying for, anyway?" Connor was casually moving towards your seat, looking over you curiously.

"Uh, I was supposed to have an exam at the end of last week but the professor ended up being sick so... Now I have it tomorrow and I'm totally- Oh, sorry. It's for my-"

Ellie's feet are carrying her, rushed and fumbling as she moves through the aisle. She nearly tripped over the seats, passing Connor and immediately settling into the seat next to you. You cut off your own words as Ellie sat next to you, a smile replacing your previous expression.

"You got it," Ellie assured you softly, pretending Connor wasn't still looking at you.

"Yeah, right. You know I'm shit at exams. I always have been," you complained, chewing anxiously at your bottom lip. People were still filing into the auditorium, the seats filling up surprisingly quickly.

"Yeah, you have been," Ellie agreed, grinning when your jaw dropped at her. "But. You haven't managed to fail anything, either. Yet."

"Ellie," you groaned softly, exasperated and amused all at once. Ellie could tell.

"Bad test taker?" Connor muses, and Ellie's expression faltered. Jesus.

"Anxious test taker," you correct lightly.

Connor sat down then, in the seat next to Ellie. She almost feels as though she briefly goes rigid, and nearly wanted to whirl around to Jesse and tell him to get his friend. She also wants to tell you that you don't have to keep answering his questions, based on the way in which you're twisting your fingers in your lap and your gaze is flicking around.

"Understandable," Connor replied, and Ellie sat back in her chair. Understandable. What time was this thing supposed to start, anyway?

Jesse and Dina sat down then, with Jesse next to Connor and Dina at the end. The seating arrangement felt weird. It was uncomfortable, and Ellie began to fidget with her fingers in her lap. It was normally always just the four of them, but now there was some Connor separating them. Ellie tried to catch Dina or maybe Jesse's eyes, but they weren't looking, too caught up in their own conversation.

"What do you study?" Connor was talking past Ellie, directing his words at you.

Ellie took a small breath while you answered, mentally scolding herself for being so fucking weird. This was not a big deal. It was really, literally fine. Ellie was just tired, that's why she was feeling off. She was just tired. And the fact that a conversation was taking place over her wasn't helping.

"What do you study?" Ellie's gaze flickered in your direction as you spoke, before fixing back upon her Converse.

"B-"

You quickly cut Connor off, an assumptious expression appearing on your features. "Business?"

Ellie could tell even by your tone that you were trying not to roll your eyes.

Connor laughed, shaking his head. He leaned forward in his seat to get a better look at you, past Ellie. "Biology, actually."

"Oh. Huh. That's cool."

You looked surprised. Pleasantly surprised, maybe, if Ellie was willing to admit it to herself.

You stayed quiet though, because the auditorium lights started to dim, prompting the talking throughout the room to grow hushed.

Showing up had been a favor for Dina, so Ellie didn't feel too guilty about allowing her thoughts to wander. She tried, though, to focus on the lecture, because she didn't exactly like the direction in which her thoughts were wandering in.

Ellie focused partly on the speaker, and partly on the way in which you were sharing the armrest of the auditorium chair with her, your bare arm pressed against the sleeve of her hoodie. It was cold in the room, like Ellie had predicated, but your sweatshirt remained in your lap, under your textbook.

The contact was small and casual, nothing out of the ordinary. Still, Ellie's gaze flickered between the stage and your arm next to hers. Even from the brief contact, Ellie wondered if her hoodie would smell like your perfume later. Usually, her clothes always did.

You were seemingly focused on the speaker, though your textbook remained open on your lap. Occasionally you would glance down for a few moments, your fingers tracing over the paragraphs before you would look up once more. Ellie wasn't watching you, necessarily, but she could see you from out of the corner of her eye. Besides, she knew your habits.

It was about twenty minutes before Connor shifted in his seat, causing Ellie to stiffen. He leaned in close to Ellie's seat, but she knew instantly that it was so he could get closer to you.

"Do you have a pen? Or a pencil, or something?" Connor's voice was low and quiet, and Ellie attempted to stare straight ahead at the stage, as though he wasn't bordering a little too closely into her personal space.

You hesitated for only a second before leaning over to rummage through your bag, wordlessly passing a mechanical pencil around Ellie, handing it to Connor. Ellie spares a glance at you, noting the obvious confusion in your expression. Connor's arm is carefully reaching over then, grasping the corner of your textbook and pulling it off of your lap and towards himself.

Your eyebrows raised and your lips parted, almost as though you're going to mumble words in protest. You faltered at the sight of Connor scribbling something on one of the pages, any potential words failing you.

Jesse and Dina were completely oblivious. Ellie forced her gaze away, swallowing harshly.

When your textbook was returned to your lap, yourself and Ellie both looked down at the new markings on the page. Ellie's eyebrows slowly drew together at the sight of it.

A phone number. Connor had written his phone number.

It was bold. Stupidly annoying, and overbearing, Ellie thought. She felt a little too warm, suddenly, and maybe it wasn't as cold in the auditorium as she had originally thought. She briefly contemplated shedding her hoodie, but she didn't want to draw any attention to herself by moving around.

Ellie watched as you stared down at the written phone number. The exhale you released was shaky, and Ellie felt freakish for noticing the detail.

She couldn't tell, however, if you were flattered or annoyed. You always did tend to get weird whenever a guy showed any sort of interest in you. Refused to talk about it, like you were embarrassed or something. Rarely ever followed up on it, too.

You were always like that. It made Ellie paranoid. Paranoid that the feelings she had been harboring for longer than she would like to admit were obvious, paranoid that one of these days, you were going to give her some pathetic speech in an attempt to let her down easy.

Still, Ellie couldn't help the way in which her gaze drifted to Connor. Her eyes flickered over his features as she bit the inside of her cheek. You had dated before, sure. But the relationships were always few and far between, and they never really lasted long.

Ellie just figured you were avoidant. Or picky. Maybe both.

Was he the type of guy you would even be into?

Ellie swore under her breath, her eyes dragging back to focus upon the stage, upon the not really sure whatever the hell this guy was going on about but they had all shown up to support Dina's effort for extra credit lecture.

The hour felt slow with Connor in the seat next to Ellie, his phone number now etched onto the page of your textbook. Ellie wanted to erase it. Instead, she anchored her thoughts on the feeling of your arms pressed together.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧　

The sky was fully dark by the time that the event had ended, and Ellie walked you back to your apartment. She didn't need to, but she always did. She was a good friend like that.

Your face felt a little warm, the knowledge of Connor's phone number on the page causing your textbook to feel more weighted in your bag.

As September progressed, it continued to grow colder at night. The wind pushed leaves across the sidewalk, the sound comforting during the day but bordering on eerie once it was night. You were wearing your sweatshirt now.

"You gonna text him?" Ellie asked, nearly wincing as the words left her lips. They sounded so awkward. Despite all of your years of friendship, the two of you had never seemed to quite get a grip on talking about relationships, or girls or boys or whatever. It always felt a little unnatural, which didn't necessarily suit your dynamic.

"Who? Connor?"

"Yeah. Connor."

"Why would I text him?" You held the door open for Ellie, the two of you stepping into your apartment building. It wasn't even very late, but it was quiet. Your steps seemed to echo throughout the hallway.

"Because he gave you his phone number?" Ellie snorted, rolling her eyes as she jabbed the button for the elevator.

"I don't know why he did that," you mumbled.

You really didn't know why he would do that. Well, you could assume. But it still didn't make sense. It made you feel a little gross, for some reason, even though he had been perfectly polite. And the fact that it made you feel gross, made you feel guilty in turn.

"Besides. I'm like... Too busy. With class, and work. And... Hanging out with you," you added, stepping into the elevator after Ellie.

"You are so full of it," Ellie grinned, rolling her eyes.

"Shut up. It's our last year, we need to soak it in before it's over. Like, make memories and stuff."

"Last ye- Jesus. You're already thinking about that?"

"It's almost over," you pointed out, shooting Ellie a sideways glance.

"It's September. Holy shit. You're already worried about that?"

"Ellie-"

"I know," Ellie relented instantly, evidently wanting to be spared the sentimental, nostalgic spiel for the night. Besides, she did somewhat have a point. Maybe you were jumping the gun, a little. You couldn't exactly help it, though. You were sentimental to your core, rooted and grown with nostalgia for as long as you could remember.

"But you have plenty of memories with me. You do realize that, right?"

It was your turn to roll your eyes now, and you purposely bumped into Ellie as you exited from the elevator, stepping onto your floor.

"Whatever. I don't care. I don't want to text him, alright? I just... don't." You felt a little sick to your stomach, and you couldn't figure out if it was because you were trying to justify it to Ellie or to yourself.

"But wh-"

"If you're so concerned about it, why don't you text him?" You interrupted, essentially joking in response but your tone had come out just a little too defensive.

"Ha. Yeah right," Ellie mumbled, slowing to a stop as you reached your door.

"I'm glad I went tonight," You said then, attempting to change the subject.

You catch Ellie's quick expression, and you can only assume that she's instantly wondering if you will text Connor after all. "I love getting to hang out with you," you clarified, not wanting her to get the wrong idea. "And Dina. And Jesse."

Ellie shook her head, just barely managing to conceal her grin. "God, you're a sap. You're no better than you were when you were fifteen, you know that?"

"Don't care. Look, are you gonna stay?"

"Stay? I don't have anything with me. Plus, I thought you were supposed to be studying tonight."

You pretended not to be disappointed, but you were. Honestly, you were a sap. Especially when it came to Ellie. You couldn't help how much you loved being around her. When you were younger, your parents warned you about dedicating all of your time to only just one friend, but it had only continued to prove to be worth it. You were completely enamored with Ellie.

You told yourself it was platonic. You always told yourself it was platonic.

Only your journal knew otherwise.

"Fine. Go, since you can't wait to get away from me." Your words were dry but you grinned at Ellie, fumbling with your key to unlock the door.

"Yeah yeah, whatever." Ellie stepped away once your door was unlocked, retrieving her own keys from her pocket. "Good luck tomorrow, though. Lunch after?"

"Yeah, definitely," you breathed out, grateful to have something to look forward to following your exam. "Text me when you get back safe. Love you," you called after Ellie once she was halfway down the hallway.

Ellie gave you a brief thumbs up in response.

Upon entering your apartment, you flipped on your lights and kicked off your shoes, carefully tucking them next to the door. After slinging the strap of your bag over a chair, you were already reaching into your pocket for your phone.

you

so you're really not staying

ellie <3

???

ellie <3

If I leave my car here overnight again I'll get another ticket

you

just wanted to hang out

ellie <3

Clingy

you

i know you are

you

i can see you in the parking lot 😁

ellie <3

🤨

ellie <3

On my way! back up

ellie <3

Fuck

ellie <3

On my way!

ellie <3

Omw jfc pack a bag

you

<<33 gimme 5 min

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧　

[ tags : ]

@mmmil3na @elliescoolerwife @fortune777 @boobdrug @spamfromali @seraphicsentences @muthafuckingstargirl @bready101

[back2bluesidex]

Closer To You - JJK (18+)

Pairing: Rich, spoilt brat!Jeongguk X Doctor! Reader

Theme: Angst, smut, kinda yandere if you squint, toxic relationship au.

Wordcount: 1k+

Summary: You know that you and Jeongguk are completely different individuals from every possible aspect, and there is no future of this relationship but you can’t push him away, not when he only wants to come closer to you.

Warnings: Angst, heavy language, swearing, not super explicit sex, jeongguk is kinda mean, he refuses to wear a condom (don't do the same), obsessive behavior, hints of class difference, kinda dirty talk, reader is trying hard to push him away but he won't budge. NSFW!!

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

Listened to Closer To You by Jungkook.

It feels weird to enter your own apartment. 

Your skin crawls underneath the heavy trench coat, as if your sixth sense is telling you that there’s something or someone waiting patiently for you inside. 

Your suspicion is confirmed when you see his silhouette prominent against the bright backdrop of your otherwise dark apartment window. 

He sits still, patiently. His eyes are focused on something you can’t tell due to the darkness. 

“What are you doing here?” you finally let your breath go and you didn’t even know you were holding it on for so long. 

You turn on the lights, slip out of your shoes and coat and walk towards the couch where he is sitting currently. He turns his head to look at you. 

“Why? Expected someone else?” Jeongguk stands up on his toes and takes a few steps towards where you are standing. 

His dark jeans, dark shirt and dark expression, everything complements the dark aura he is oozing right now. But he looks beautiful regardless. 

You scoff, “Is it not justified for me to expect anyone but you? Especially when you are the one who has been ignoring me for two weeks and three days to be precise?” 

“You fucking ditched me during the party, Y/N! You made me a look like fool before my friends just because you got called at work! How would you treat me if you were in my shoes?” Jeongguk screams at your face. His height looms over your small figure. The weight of his gaze intimidates you but you know how to shake that off. 

He is angry, you know. But you also know that his anger is not justified. 

“I would have understood, Jeongguk.” you pause, taking a few steps away from him, “you need to understand that I lead a completely different life. I don’t have time to waste sipping champagne wearing over-expensive silk dresses. I am a doctor! And I need to sacrifice my personal time for the sake of my patients! If you can’t get that in your head, if you can’t respect what I do then just fuck off! Let’s break the fuck up!” 

Your voice feels hoarse instantly. You have hardly ever screamed so much. This is so unlike you, you can’t recognize yourself. Jeongguk really pulls out the worst of you. 

Jeongguk scoffs, then he is grinning and then he is laughing at the loudest possible volume, “What? What did you say? You are going to what- break up with me?” 

You hate this side of your boyfriend. 

When you first met him at the hospital, he had minor scratches and a set of big puppy eyes. When he cutely told you how he fell down while snowboarding, you couldn’t help smiling. 

Only if you knew he is just like other rich brats sporting a “I want it, I get it” attitude, you would have resisted his bunny smile and big doe eyes, you would have stayed professional when he asked for your number, you would have turned him down when he asked you out. But now you are here, 8 months into this relationship with Chaebol Jeon Jeongguk, standing on the verge of the end because you just can’t stand being with him anymore. 

“Jeongguk please… Please just stop treating me like a possession. I am not your shiny new car. I am a human being! If you don’t love me, just- just let me go.” your voice comes out weaker than it should. Even though it has only been 8 months, even though Jeongguk is not the most ideal boyfriend, even though you two have hell and heaven difference between you, you still fell for him regardless. And you know it’s a mistake because there is no way you are more than just a fancy doctor girlfriend for him. It hurts but you know rationality is more important than your feelings right now. 

You are so busy gathering your own wits that you don’t notice the heartbroken expression that takes over Jeongguk’s beautiful face. 

“I- I don’t love you? I don’t treat you like a human?” his voice weavers. The tremble in his words makes you look up at him. 

“No you don’t.” you say briefly. 

“Oh?” his eyes start glistening with moisture and he diverts those away from yours. Running a hand through his hair out of frustration he groans, “then why do you think I am with you?” 

That’s a million dollar question, you don’t know the answer properly. So, you reply with what you think is the most appropriate answer, “it makes you look cool. A normal working class girlfriend to a millionaire chaebol… What a good match!” 

As soon as your answer ends, you see Jeongguk taking fast steps towards you. He grabs you by your neck and pulls your face closer to his. You stumble, being unable to keep up with his actions. 

“I love you, Y/N. You better get that inside your head. I am not letting you go, not now, not ever.” he breathes on your face, pinning you down with a sharp, piercing look in his eyes. 

You don’t know what to feel, not when you see a weird determination in his eyes, not when his mouth is crashing on yours, not when Jeongguk is devouring your lips fervently. 

Minutes pass and you find yourself naked in your bed, with Jeongguk in between your thighs, kissing your mound, licking your clit and saying “I love you” in every interval. 

You don’t know what to feel when he pushes his girthy length inside you but refuses to wear a condom claiming to “shoot his babies inside you”. 

You don’t know if your stomach is filled with butterflies or fear or is it just Jeongguk’s bulge, when he fucks you relentlessly murmuring how much he worships your body, how he wants to fuck you every day after marriage. 

You don’t know whether to kick him out of your apartment or keep him with you forever when he cleans you up, places a kiss on your forehead, tells you that he loves you again and again and gradually falls asleep beside you. 

You only know that you and Jeongguk are completely different individuals from every possible aspect and there is no future of this relationship but you can’t push him away, not when he only wants to come closer to you. 

[tranquilpetrichor]

lesson learned

synopsis: in which a tutoring session turns out to be much more in disguise.

cast: tutor!gunwook x fem!reader ft. gyuvin and ricky (briefly)

genre: high school!au, f2l

wc: 2.2k (2225)

warnings: suggestive, making out, yn’s outfit has a skirt, gunwook kisses yn on neck, they call each other "cute" and "hot, they r nerds, please don’t do this in a study room, barely proofread and edited help

a/n: i swear why is finishing stuff so hard, this could be so much better but i'm happy i managed to finish it. also it's kinda hard not writing from y/n's perspective but it shre is interesting. i wanna make longer fics lol but for now enjoy this bc i love writing about nerds and especially ones who are down bad.

be sure to reblog and like to support your creators!

bright sunlight filtered in through the windows of the empty study room as park gunwook typed away on his laptop, trying to get homework done quickly.

outside, some students were walking across campus, birds were flying freely, and there were a distinct lack of clouds in the sky.

he would probably be there too, but he was supposed to be tutoring you soon. as boredom was slowly starting to set in, he double-checked the time. it was one minute after your appointment was set to begin.

odd. you weren’t usually late to anything.

before he could ponder it further, you walked into the room, sighed and put your stuff beside him, apologizing for being late. “i was talking to another professor about something, and i didn’t expect it to take that long. my bad…”

something seemed a bit different about you, but he wasn’t sure why. he shrugged the thought off and chuckled quietly.

“it’s no problem, y/n. one minute is nothing. do you prefer the curtains open or closed?”

you waved a hand at the window. “let’s close them.”

he got up and pressed a button on the light switch panel near the doorway, and the curtains automatically came down. this private school sure spent money on interesting things, but at least they were occasionally useful.

cute outfit, he thought.

was that a new pair of boots? it paired nicely with the skirt you were wearing. you managed to look hot and adorable at the same time.

how unprofessional to be distracted by your appearance—he frowned.

snap out of it. it’s time to do math, not stare like an idiot.

luckily, you didn’t say anything, even though he swore he saw a tiny smirk on your face, which you quickly removed in favor of a more neutral expression.

that was weird, he thought as you got your tablet out—the one you liked to take notes on during the calculus class you two had together.

he wasn’t sure of your exact grade in the class, but he heard it was quite high. you were smart, but didn’t seem to have problems asking for help if you needed it. in his opinion, that was pretty admirable.

gunwook noticed that if you did need help, you’d go to the teacher or try and talk to him. the two of you exchanged numbers eventually, texting each other for study sessions.

he loved being able to talk to you more, slowly learning little things about you—like how you wore a certain necklace on big days for luck, that your go-to snack was nuts (he couldn’t help but think of you as a squirrel after that), and that you had a dog named citrus.

he got the feeling that you weren’t the biggest on socializing with many people, preferring to only keep compaany with a few friends. he’s mutual friends with a few of them, like jungwon.

it was refreshing compared to his large friend group (although he loved them) and the many people who were merely interested in him for his looks.

of course, he wouldn’t mind if you were interested in his looks, but hopefully you also liked something beyond that.

you probably did—who else would end up chatting about precious stones or logical fallacies with him? he loved seeing you excited and passionate.

god, his face was probably going to be red if he kept this up.

“i see you said you wanted to look at stuff from the last lecture when you were booking the session,” he said, trying to banish certain thoughts from his head. “series can be difficult, so i get it.”

you nodded, offering him a sweet smile. “yeah, i just wanna go over a few of the divergence and convergence problems on the first practice problem set. i have the problems listed here.”

you pushed your tablet in his direction, and he picked it up.

he glanced at your solution for the first one, nearly written. “i mean, it looks like you applied the test correctly. just to make sure, how did you know to use that one?”

you didn’t hesitate to answer.

“given series is a p-series where p is equal to three. p is greater than three, so the series will converge.”

as expected, you kept up with his questioning. of course you probably knew what a damn p-series is. he’d just wanted to hear your voice some more.

speaking of voices, maintaining a professional tone with you was a miracle. gunwook’s composure and eloquence were paramount to getting him through student council meetings, debates and tutoring sessions, but those skills seemed to want a temporary vacation.

“do you want to move onto the next one?” he said, defaulting to his standard tutor voice.

“mhm. i remember our teacher said there was more than one way to do it. i never tried to figure out the other ways, but now i’m curious.”

gunwook flipped to a certain page in his notebook. “do you want me to show you how i did it? it’s definitely a different method, but we got the same answer.”

you shrugged. “sure. take your time.”

you were twirling your stylus pen in your hands and swiftly tucked it atop your ear. fuck, did you not know how cute you looked? your hair was neatly parted near the middle right now, but he wondered what it’d be like to see you disheveled. at this point, he might be thinking with something other than his brain.

you spent another few minutes talking with him, bringing his memory back to previous tutoring sessions. he remembered you said once that having to justify your reasoning on a topic was one of the best ways to deepen understanding, and that he was skilled at identifying the holes in your arguments.

“that’s why i would hate to lose a debate against you,” you had admitted. “it’s always more fun when we can work together.”

the offhanded comment could’ve had another meeting. as an friend, gunwook couldn’t quite discern your intentions, though. whether you just wanted him at arms length or in your arms was just another guessing game he played.

he was aware that the balance of power was always shifting between you two, but at the end of the day, you two were pretty much equals intellectually, keeping things in equilibrium. however, his underlying feelings of attraction threatened to ruin the balance.

as the session continued, you had a satisfied smile. you asked him about unrelated math proofs and got him off track. why did you want to discuss all this when your sessions were usually more focused? something was definitely off.

“well, that was actually everything i wanted to ask about,” you said to him suddenly, packing up swiftly. “i was just going to go if you don’t have anything else.”

he frowned.

no, please don’t.

what was wrong with him?

“unless, you wanted me to stay..” you continued, a smirk on your face. your laptop was closed and all of your study materials were neatly filed away.

you were definitely teasing him, and it was working, your behavior making him somewhat flustered. there was no turning back if he let himself escalate things right now. he could just let you leave—that’s what rational gunwook would do.

fuck it. rational gunwook was not in the room right now.

he reached out and grasped your arm. “and if i did?”

you smirked and stepped towards him. “then i’ll make sure you don’t regret your choice.”

with that, you pressed your lips to his, surprising him. gunwook quickly recovered, his arm snaking around your waist, pulling you in more.

no wonder you booked the session for an hour and a half.

if anyone opens this door, i’m definitely getting kicked out as a tutor. at least these walls are pretty soundproof.

he pulled away for a bit to catch his breath. "wow, did you come here just to kiss me?”

you laughed, gazing at his eyes. "it wasn't only for that, although i'd be happy to do it again. let me clarify. i have feelings for you.”

you continued. “i’ve honestly thought about it. you’re hardworking, and not just in the classroom. when i see you practicing or studying, you dedicate yourself fully, and it inspires me to do the same. you're kind, even to people who don't deserve it. on top of that, you’ve always been a good person to talk to about anything and everything. i trust you.”

“oh, and i guess you’re cute. and hot.”

you added the last part with a small smile. after each reason, he found himself surprised by your sincere words.

gunwook groaned. “y/n, you have no idea how down bad i am. i don't even remember exactly when it started, but what i do know is that i met someone interesting, someone who challenges me and jokes with me. someone who's beautiful in every way. i'm so fucking into you."

he paused, before deciding to tease you a little. "i have a question about one thing, though. you ‘guess’ i’m cute?”

“well, did you want me to say for a fact that you’re cute?” you asked.

he pouted slightly. “would have been better.”

“fine,” you said, taking his hand. “it is an undisputed fact that you’re cute.”

“thank you.”

"and hot."

"i guess so..." you rolled your eyes, an amused grin on your face. “now can we get back to kissing?”

“i was acually trying to be professional, even though i had feelings for you too,” he whispered against your ear. “but since you insist, i’ll give you what you want.”

not wanting to rush despite his boyish excitement, he leaned down and slowly began to kiss you again, running one of his hands gently through your hair. you closed your eyes.

“want you to take control, gunwook,” you said, your breath hot against his skin and your arms wrapping around his neck.

how could he say no? he was so screwed whenever it came to you. wasting no time, he brought your hips closer to his, enjoying the proximity.

he’d never seen you like this, so blissful and carefree. all he wanted to do in this moment was to make sure you kept feeling that way.

he got a small idea.

“hold on, i’m going to lift you,” he said, and you tightened your hold on him, lifting your legs so that they wrapped around his waist. you looked like a koala, hanging on so protectively to him like he was a branch.

you let out a tiny laugh of glee—it was the cutest thing he’s ever heard.

he moved over to a chair, and carefully sat down with you in his arms. your skirt was spread across your lap, contributing to the newfound messiness of your appearance, and your legs dangled off both sides of the chair.

“let me know if you don’t like something,” he said in between kisses. “the last thing i want to do is pressure you.”

“of course,” you responded, squeezing his shoulders reassuringly.

as a surge of newfound confidence rushed through him, his kisses became more intense, trailing down to your collarbone. you tilted your neck slightly to allow him more access to the area.

shit, he was probably the luckiest guy alive right now.

“so beautiful,” he murmured, tracing your chin with one of his hands, “and you’re mine.”

damn, calm down now.

“wow, for someone who’s so sweet, you sure do have a possessive side.”

he winced. “is it too much?”

you laughed and smiled playfully. “not at all. i find it hot.”

that sentence alone sent a warmth through his body.

“that’s good to know,” he replied with a smirk. he was definitely going to do that more often.

soon, his lips found yours again, like a moth to a flame. damn, he could spend all day doing this (if they had no risk of getting caught).

in his pocket, his phone buzzed, and he sighed, looking at the notification.

gyuvin: r u coming to get ice cream with me and ricky? u said ur tutoring thing with ur gf ends at 4:00

the time was 3:44 pm. wow, were they really at it for that long?

gunwook smiled. gyuvin had texted “gf” as a joke, but little did the poor guy know.

“is it something important?” you asked, still on his lap.

he shut off the phone, looking back at you. “it’s gyuvin. during lunch, me, him and ricky made last minute plans to get ice cream—they’re asking me if i still want to come. i should get going soon.”

of course, his feet didn’t want to move.

you looked intrigued. “do they mind a plus one?”

yeah, they're going to tease me the entire time.

“i’ll ask,” he responded, face somewhat warm from embarrassment. "but one of these days, i’ll take you out on a proper date, just us two. you deserve it.”

your eyes lit up, and you smiled. “i’ll hold you to it, gunwook.”

his phone buzzed again.

gyuvin: yea sure bring her, we support

gyuvin: besides i have ricky he's gonna be my bf now

"they said yes," gunwook said, laughing silently at gyuvin's last message. "let's go in 5 minutes?"

you reciprocated, resting your head gently on his shoulder. "any longer and i don't think i could leave."

[chleem]

Flashing Lights #5

Series; actor Drew x actress reader

Summary: Drew gets involved in the worst scandal of his career. One way to solve it? Proving to the whole world that he’s the sweetest lover to exist. Who better to help than the one person he can’t stand? You, an A class actress with an alcohol addiction. So, will Drew clear up his reputation, or leave with a bigger mess to clean up?

Genre: fake dating, enemies to lovers(?, slow burn, angst, smut,

Warning: mentions of alcohol, swearing, mentions of k!lling oneself, mentions of rape & sa, mentions of drug usage, smoking & vaping,

⋆.˚ please dont copy, if inspired please tag me

⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read

♡⸝⸝ chapter4 | index | chapter6

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Mid-April 2024

What’s so fun about singing in a desert? 

The concept of Coachella always seemed ridiculous to you, yet here you were, walking to see the last performance of the day. Of course, hand in hand with Drew. 

The whole day the two of you were 'inseparable', looking at different shows. For most of the time, he’s kept an arm around you, whispering useless stuff in your ear whenever someone films the two of you.

Ever since stepping out of the car this morning, you’ve attracted a few stares, photographers hoping to take pictures of you and Drew. After all, this was your first time attending Coachella, and you did dress accordingly to theme.

The stylist definitely did it on purpose, making you and Drew match. You wore a denim skirt, a cute lace top, cowboy boots, and accessories from brands you’re an ambassador for. Drew wore a denim jacket, black pants, white shirt, with accessories. Oddly similar to yours. 

Good thing your sunglasses cover your line of sight from others, especially Drew. You didn’t want him to know that you’ve been glancing at his body since the you both stepped out from the car. But really, he must know that he's attractive, right?

The last time you saw him was at the yacht, and things…surprisingly ended well. You got drunk, which resulted in a relaxed you that was willing to pose lovingly with Drew. After that, the two of you headed back home in seperate flights.

Once you step into the VIP section, you let go of his hand. You feel him staring at the side of your face, but you just stare at the dimly-lighted stage. This whole day he’s been the one initiating intimacy, whereas you were just focused on getting as much free beer as you can (they were passing drinks out). And now, at this last show, you had enough of him. 

You down the last of your beer, handing your empty cup to a random bodyguard standing watch. He takes it with a confused face, to which you ignore. Gosh, the beer here was horrible. 

Drew attempts to hold your hand again, and you just cross your arms. “Why not?” He whispers in your ear, standing closely to you. 

“Because I don’t want to anymore,” you simply say, staring at the stage. When was this show going to start? You couldn’t be more eager to go home, and drink some beer that’s actually good. 

“But you held my hand for the whole day.”

“Yes, and I hated every second of it,” you turn over to him while saying this, looking right into his eyes. Even in the night his eyes are bright. How fucking annoying. 

“Well, so did I. But you don’t see me bitching, do you?”

“Because you know you have a career to save. I don’t-“

“Don’t remind me about what I’m doing. I know what I’m doing, but I’m not sure you do.”

“I’m right here, aren’t I?” You say, tapping his chest in an annoying way to show you’re in front of him. He looks down at you, poking his tongue against his cheek. 

“Stop touching me,” he says in a low voice, his eyes still staring into yours. 

“What are you going to do about it?” You taunt, and you push his shoulder as hard as you can, and he doesn’t flinch at all. You do it to the other side as well, gaining the same reaction from him. Is he a stone? 

You flick his forehead. Same reaction, his eyes staring irritatedly into yours.

You reach to pinch his cheeks, but he grabs your wrists and pulls you into him. He captures you into a forced hug, your head deep between his chest. You feel one arm around your waist, the other holding your wrist tight to him. What?

All you smell is Drew, and all you see is Drew (’s chest).

“Hug me back and smile,” you hear him say, his fingers tapping against your waist. 

“Fuck no,” you murmur against his chest.

“Everyone’s watching,” he says. 

Fucking hell.

You shake his hand away from your wrist, and you hug him. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his upper body down a bit. Resting your chin on his shoulder, you glance at the back. Okay. The front row all had their phones out and were shamelessly taking photos of you two. Gosh, can’t people mind their own fucking business? 

You stay like that hugging for ten seconds or so, until Drew’s hand slips a bit lower to the curve of your ass; you push him away. It wasn’t a hard push; but a push nevertheless. “Getting too comfortable,” you say, but giving him a smile since all the cameras were pointed this way.

“Hand slipped,” is all he says, before wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You furrow your eyebrows. “That hug was enough.”

“Wouldn’t it be weird if we stopped touching each other?” He says, his face close to yours, and his arm hangs comfortably around you. 

His breath hits your face, which you just reply, “your breath stinks.”

He purposely blows another breath in your face, and you flinch away in disgust. “I would slap you if it weren’t for all these cameras.”

You hear him laugh, and you just roll your eyes. You lean into him, holding his hand that’s over your shoulder. If you’ve got to play the part, might as well play it right. “When’s this show going to fucking start?”

“Why? You like Tyler the creator?”

“Who’s that?” Drew looks at you with widen eyes, the corner of his lips curled up. “What? Is he famous? Am I suppose to know who he is?”

“Yeah, we’re about to watch his show,” he giggles at you while talking, his shoulders shaking. You furrow your eyebrows at him, your grip on his hand tightening. You do not like his laugh. His smile. His smirk. The way his lips curl up. You do not like it. Especially when he’s laughing about you, or at you. 

Somehow, his smile grows when he sees your confused and hateful expression. 

“Stop laughing!” You frustratingly say, attempting to push him away. But he holds onto you tighter, pulling you closer to him. 

“Do you live under a rock?” He says, a teasing smile on his face. “Or are you too consumed with your own fame you forget others?”

“You wish you had this problem,” you reply, hoping that would get the smile off his face.

But it doesn’t. In fact, he ignores your comment. “Frank Ocean."

“Who?”

“Kali Uchis.”

“Stop.”

“Richard Jill.”

“I know him,” you lie, widening your eyes and nodding your head to act like you knew a bunch about this person. 

“Can you introduce me to him?”

“Well, he’s really busy.”

“With what?”

“Producing music, going on tours-“

He bursts into laughter, throwing his head back. 

What’s so funny now? 

“The fuck?” You curse, hitting his chest to get him to stop laughing. No one likes to be laughed at, and right now, he’s making you feel horrible. 

He laughs, and when his blue eyes stare into yours, there’s tears in them. You want to punch him so bad right now. “I fucking made him up, y/n.”

You push him away, and he actually stumbles a bit, still chuckling at you. Will he stop laughing already? People are staring, and that makes you even more embarrassed. The area is noisy, but you feel as if someone can overhear your dumb attempt to look smart. 

“You’re a fucking jackass,” you say a bit louder, which the crowd probably heard. 

“And you’re a fucking idiot,” he replies, his laughter dying but the smile still rests around his face. 

You want to leave. You don’t want to stay here anymore, you want a smoke. You want some beer that's actually drinkable. You turn towards the exit, ready to leave, but Drew pulls you back. He keeps one hand on your wrist as he starts to take off his jacket.

“Get your hand off me,” you say, while your eyes went down to his body. Woah, was he wearing such a tight shirt this entire time?

“Wear this. It’ll be great for the cameras.”

“Fuck no,” you say quickly. “You laugh at me, and now you want me to wear your shit?”

“It was a joke,” he says, taking the other sleeve off but not before switching hands to hold your wrist. Is he afraid you were gonna walk away while he’s taking off his jacket? “C’mon, just put this on.”

You stare at the jacket. Then you look back at him. No smile, no laughter, no curl at the corner of his lips. “Cunt,” you whisper to him, taking the jacket from him. You put it on, the sleeves sagging and the shoulders feel heavy, way too big. 

Smells like Drew. Again. 

“Right. I’m the cunt,” he says in a defeated tone. “But at least I know who exists and who doesn’t.”

You raise a hand to slap him, but he catches it and slips it into the pocket of his pants. “People watching,” he reminds you again, leaning closely to your ear. 

“Greater reason for me to slap you,” you reply, before pinching him real hard with the hand in his pocket. He groans, quickly taking your hand out and holding it. You resist, but he holds tightly onto it.

Suddenly, the screen starts, and it’s a video of a man in a van explaining stuff. 

“That’s Tyler the creator,” Drew tells you, pointing to the screen.

“I fucking know that, you dick,” you reply, eyes glued to the screen. 

"Do you?" He playfully whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

But then, calls for Drew are heard, causing the two of you to turn to the source. A group of friends at the front row, waving at Drew. You’ve never seen any of these people, but Drew seem to, because he walks over to them, and holding his hand, you’re forced to walk over as well. “What are you guys doing here?” He happily shouts, trying to be louder than the music. 

A short girl with messy curls smiles at Drew, “I should be asking you that! Why did you cancel on us if you were coming here as well?”

A man beside her says, “can’t you see? He’s on a date.”

The group looks at you, first eyeing your jacket, then at you and Drew holding hands. Then they stare directly into your face. “Shit, so this is real?” The short girl asks, a mocking smile on her face. 

You furrow your eyebrows at her. Weird.

“Yeah, um, Y/n, these are my friends,” Drew says, and he points at each of them. Firstly, he points at the short girl. “This is Odessa. This is Jay, this is-“

He tells you each of their names, but you get lost pretty quick, even though this was only a group of six people. They kept looking at you in awe (duh, you're an A-list actress) with warm smiles on their faces. Well, not all of them. The short girl, who’s name is Odessa, keeps her eyes on Drew the whole time, her hand going to touch Drew’s arm, even suggesting to watch the show together. 

Of course Drew says yes, telling security to let his friends through. You stay quiet; they were his friends, not yours. And you didn’t want them to get a piece of your mind, because who knows what you’ll say once opened your mouth. 

Drew seems to know what you’re thinking, because he whispers in your ear, “You’re not going to ask them to leave, are you?”

“I’m not that bitchy,” you shrug, eyes on the stage as Tyler the Creator is still in his cabin, on the big screen. “But you said my thoughts.”

“Aren’t you the nicest,” you hear the sarcasm in his voice, and he drops your hand, now wrapping his arm around your waist, under the jacket. His thumb rubs in circles on the bare skin, and you hate how it causes your goosebumps to rise. “Besides, my friends won’t judge you.”

“Judge me?” You turn to him, and when you do, you release how close he was. You glance at his lips, but quickly look back into his eyes, hoping he didn’t catch that. “What is there to judge about me?”

“You reek of alcohol,” Drew says, his tone teasing. 

“Everyone stinks here.”

“But you stink everywhere,” Drew shrugs, turning his focus back on screen. 

Then, Tyler the creator jumps out the screen, which shocks you. Your eyes widen, mouth open. The crowd goes crazy once the music starts. The music is good, and you bop your head lightly to it. Crazy how you’ve never heard of him or his music before. 

But you weren’t able to fully enjoy the show. 

Drew and his friends are talking, at a slightly loud volume. So, even if you didn’t want to, you can hear their conversations. His friends mostly asking how he’s doing, catching up about big events in each others’ lives, etc. 

You wanted them to shut the fuck up and silently watch the show. 

You looked over at Drew, trying to show him your discomfort, but all you see is sincerity on Drew. A smile on his lips, nodding while listening, and just…just talking about whatever with his friends. He makes funny faces, impressions, and jokes that makes them laugh. 

His friends seem to enjoy his company as well, listening to him talk and adding teasing comments in-between. Their bond seems deep, and sincere. 

You don’t have any friends; so you didn’t know how this felt like. To have someone to talk to, talk about whatever and talk whenever. 

You turn back to the stage, deciding to leave Drew and his friends alone. Your grip on his hand tightens though, but you’re sure he doesn’t realize it, too into the conversation between his friends. 

——

Early May 2024

The PR team obviously thought a relationship would solve you and Drew’s negative images, but it wasn’t enough. 

You were seen at a yacht, in Miami, right after the F1 grand prix. You weren’t careful enough, which lead to you being photographed with another A-list actor, touching, laughing, feeding each other food. It looked real couple-y. 

Not only that, but you were photographed sharing bottles of wine together. From anyone’s point of view, it was a date. 

Fans attacked all your social media platforms, urging you to explain yourself.

Well, your company addressed it. Saying that it was a casual hangout between friends and how the wine was just to 'pair along with the food'. 

While you were out drinking with another guy, Drew was at the Met Gala. And it happened to be the day after the photos were leaked. Poor Drew. But he handled it exceptionally well, steering away questions about the relationship. 

One thing for certain now, Drew was committed to this relationship, unlike you. You, who cooperates entirely based on your mood, and go around creating as much trouble as you possibly could. 

Maybe the public was right. Right for years. You are still just an immature kid, who still has white powder up her nose. 

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

word count: 2.5k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: thx for reading this chapter! things are getting...interesting 🙃 and youll realise that i didnt write out the date on the yacht...(cause i got lazy) bc it would just be yn and drew bickering. and every chapter will be like this, months/weeks apart. anyways, thx for reading! and thx for liking not a big deal (did not expect it to blow up) and due to popular demand, part 3 is in the works!

[seneon]

IN MEMORY, YOU LIVE ──── ghost¡touya × fem¡reader.

about. in which, the dead lives by the memories of the living, and you're here to remember his soul. touya is deceased soldier from WWII. reader is a christian who prays. this is a bittersweet romance with religious themes, japanese culture, and lots of dialogues. touya might be ooc in some parts. inspired by coco and a whisker away. wc of 3100+

notes. in commemoration of all souls day, in which i celebrate. honestly i wrote this after remembering a sunday school class i had about purgatory and prayers LMAO. so it's kinda self indulgent. i miss my grandfather dawg.

THE SUN KISSED YOUR SKIN as your eyes are shielded shut from the bright sunlight. with your palms pressed against each other and your thumbs making a small cross, prayers ran down your tongue in a quiet voice.

time isn't of essence. it never was, especially when you spend your time praying. forget about time whenever you pray, it was never important. they could drag out to minutes and to hours and you would forget all about time as if it never existed in the first place.

with your knee that started to numb after having kneeled on one cold pavement for so long, you finally moved to sit, your eyes slowly opening to land on the tomb laid out right in front of you.

it's an unknown tomb, belonging to a soul whose history or family you do not know of. there's only a name, dates, and a simple insignia of the military carved onto the stone of the tomb.

touya todoroki, the name bearer of this tomb.

this disheveled tomb is covered in nothing but mere grass and dirt that stains it dirty. you tried your best to clean it up. it seems it's been here for a few decades and no one in his lineage exists to care for it anymore.

what a bittersweet ending. a soldier of the military army decades ago is left to rot in his grave and to have his existence wiped off from the face of the earth. not even an image of him continues to live on in this world.

touya todoroki must be sad to be forgotten.

“. . . . all this i ask through Christ my Lord, amen,” you gave the grave a little bow before signing a cross to end the prayer. then for the rest of the morning up until the twelfth hour, you sit in silence to gaze upon the tomb of this forgotten man, soft strings of words flows out.

heaven knows why you are so attached to this specific tomb. you remembered it as clear as day— how you happen to be walking by in boredom after praying to your deceased ancestors for all souls day. your feet carried you to the path back home, but it felt as if your soul was being pulled by the strings of the tomb bearer.

curiousity strikes you in that moment, like a spear that was driven through your chest to keep you steady. this man— touya todoroki, his tomb and the area is so unkempt you knew it was untouched for decades. he must've lost all ties with his family.

it's the fourteenth hour now. you've eaten your fair share while absentmindedly staring at the grave of the unknown. to not come across as rude to the dead, you left a fresh box of soba noodles and a clean set of chopsticks beside the candles which had been melted over the course of a few hours.

“i bid you good-bye now, mr touya todoroki,” you softly said and stood up to brush the cemetery dirt off your clothes. with one last glance that promises the dead that you will return for the next visit, you turned your feet away.

yet you could not even blink. not even a second passed. it felt as if the speed of light did not exist at that moment. your footsteps walked into a world that did not exist before up until a few milliseconds ago.

your heart fell from a cliff into a pit of fear as you are now greeted with a rather mountainous view. fogs and mists veil the atmosphere, along with a single torii gate in sight as your eyes travel everywhere but behind you.

all because you felt a presence right where your blind spot is. a presence so heavy that you felt eyes burning into your clothes to carve your bare skin with piercing eyes underneath with its gaze.

“leaving so soon?” a deep voice echoes through your ears as you slowly turn your head at where you heard the voice coming from. your throat is dry as your sights are landed on a man sitting on the tomb of touya todoroki, the deceased soldier who has no more place in this world.

“g-get off there,” you choked out, fingers curling to compress any visible fear that might crawl up to twitch at your nerves.

the man simply tilts his head at your words. he's so attractive, handsome. your very first few thoughts about this mysterious man. white hair, scars that gnaws deep into his skin, that turquoise eyes.

if anything, this man is the epitome of magazine beauty. his choice of clothing is odd though, who still wears army clothing these days?

“and why should i get off?”

“because that grave belongs to somebody.”

a chuckle escapes from that man's lips as he leaned his arms on his knees, eyes digging his existence into your presence. “i am that somebody. this is my grave. don't you see that? you talk to me all the time when you come to this shitty graveyard.”

“you're ly—”

“you just prayed for my forgotten soul, sat down, and stared to me for at least two hours. what lie are you speaking of?”

your silence hugs you tight as his words slowly sinks into your mind, finding solace in your soul as you tilted your own head and let out a small “oh.”

“mr touya todoroki? why are you visible, and speaking to me now?”

curiousity clearly reeks in your question and tone as the said man stood up from his tomb, his figure enveloping you as if you are nothing but a mere rat when a cat is chasing your tail.

“because… sweet praying girl, you're either dead, or in the process of dying.”

where's the sun when you need it to give you a sweet, warm hug? where's the brightness of the day that kisses your skin so gently? where is the light of day in this foggy, misty area?

when you looked behind touya, only his grave seemed to exist in this cold, mountainous place. the same old grave that you always sit or squat in front of to offer up the humblest of prayers. you don't even know this soul, yet you still pray for his soul to be free and for God's mercy to be poured upon touya.

now the utter reality is slowly being punctured into your mind. it felt like rocks being thrown at your head, then boulders slowly falling down the top of the mountain to crush your skull as reality sets in.

“walk with me as i brief you about the land of the dead. well at least, this land of the dead belongs to the eastern asians. explains why it's all fogs and mists and mountains,” touya walked ahead of you, his hand moving to wear his military cap, covering his beautiful white hair.

you could recognise that cap anywhere. it's the pillar of a japanese soldier's uniform. the star in the middle is all you needed to know that this man is of honour. or at least, honourable in some ways.

“when you say i’m either dead or dying, how do i know of it? what does that even mean?” your feet carried you to walk beside touya.

“if you're dead, you'd know what impacted you at the last second before you wake up here. when you're dying, you're connected to the dead. heavily connected.”

the dead man walks through a forest. he seems to know so much of this place, having spent probably decades in this afterlife. his presence is quite strong, you can feel him as if he were a real, living being. touya seems to read your mind with your little analysis.

“your prayers have brought me back,” touya said and held up a falling tree branch, ushering you to walk ahead before he went after you and dropped his hands.

“how? also, i don't think i have been impacted. i simply took a step away from your grave and suddenly i’m met with this .. mysteriously new place.”

the man proceeds his journey ahead, leading you to wherever he desires as you follow behind, millions of questions swarming your mind.

“when you die, you live again in the afterlife with the memories of you back in the living world. if nobody remembers you, you disappear for some shitty reason. and why you are here? well i don't know. figure it out yourself as you spend the rest of your day here.”

touya's chin gestured towards the clearing of view from the forest. it's now set into a view of a busy village. it's still afternoon, you supposed, since the day is still bright and just a tad bit warmer now than the mountain.

as rural as it can get, everyone who exists in this moment seemed to wear clothing throughout history, some even foreign to you.

there's a descending staircase that seemed to stretch on forever. yet touya still walks down anyways, expecting you to trail behind him as he leads you into this village that has buildings and homes stacked up everywhere.

there's a tree, similar to yggdrasil of the norse, the tree of life. which is connected to the heavens and earth. this tree, however, seems to provide shelter for every soul wandering into the land of the dead.

“it's like… a super duper big treehouse…” you murmured under your breath, taking in the sight of this worldly view as you descended the staircase and slowly presented yourself to the afterlife.

“it's where the dead people live. unlike the mexican afterlife which has sprinting colours and music and all the cultural stuff, we have a rather calming afterlife. just like how every eastern asians prefers it.”

after what felt like over a decade of descending, your footsteps came to a halt. first step onto the ground, and the sky is all dark with warm lights that emitted the atmosphere. it was breathtaking. that was all it meant to you and all you could say in this moment. your eyes widened in awe, lips curving upwards in a huge smile.

at first, you expected to be greeted with the agonising pain of tiredness from descending, but there was only peace and tranquility. this scenery that brought you all kinds of warmth on the inside had sucked in any negativity you were feeling— both physically and mentally.

“dead people things,” touya reminded you as he marched forward to immediately blend into the crowd of dead souls and busy streets. “mr touya, wait!”

“catch up, praying girl. or i’ll lose you easily,” he glanced back, and his words went straight to your heart. they're meant to mean that he'll lose you easily in the crowd and this busy afterlife, but to you it sounded more personal. like when you were leaving his grave just a moment ago but ended up here.

you apologised and quickly went to his side to hold his sleeves so your distance wouldn't be separated again. touya's traditional, you assumed, since he's not the type to let girls hang on his sleeves.

he must be quite reserved and stoic back in history, considering the way he tugged you off his sleeves to hold your hands in a loose grip instead. “don't let go,” he said as you nodded in compliance, squeezing his hands a little tighter as touya led you through the bustling streets.

the two of you walked, walked, and walked for what seemed like forever in this solace of a giant tree until he stopped in front of the foot of the giant tree. you paused to admire the size for a moment, the roots spreading down into the earth and possibly even touching the opening of hell.

touya walked, and you followed, approaching the edge of a big lake that surrounded the tree as if to protect it. much to your displeasure, he unhooked his hands from you, leaning down to look at his reflection at the surface of the lake. you followed him, looking at your own reflection, before stealing a glance at his reflection.

such a reflection that speaks of sorrow and silent suffering. it tugs at your heartstrings how a soul could look so sad.

“sit down,” touya says, and you obey to sit with him on the grass, gazes still locked onto yourselves in the water.

“this is the lake of prayers. it's where every prayer ever said to a soul is stored,” he explains. “each soul has a colour assigned to you. it wraps around the prayers like a glowing ball of light.”

“what is your colour, then?”

touya leans forward to dip his fingers into the waters. very quickly, a small amount of ball-like glows of turquoise surfaced from the bottom to surround his fingers, gently dancing in the water. he then caught a glow and allowed the ball-like shape to melt in his palms.

words fell onto his palm, overflowing onto the grass as your voice filled both your ears, causing your eyes to slightly widen.

“it's my voice..” you trailed off and touched the grass where your prayers have spilled onto.

“yes. your voice. your prayers,” he allows the ball to fully melt before he reaches into the waters to take out a few more, all of them melting onto the grass. and all of them echo the faint sound of your voice. down until the last glow.

“they're all your prayers,” turquoise eyes attempt to seek comfort in your own eyes as you look at the todoroki. “you're the only living being that prayed for me,” touya's voice drops to a whisper and you frown at his words.

lonely soldier whom no other living being prayed for, touya todoroki. his existence is only relevant after so long where you randomly stumbled upon his disheveled grave.

“but that's— that's not fair,” your reply is soft, and touya finds that comforting. “why, mr touya? this is awfully sad.”

“it isn't when you serve in the military and die in war. all you get is a name on your tombstone. they won't even retrieve your body from the battlefield.”

you watched as the man closes his fist after all the words have melted and he dips his whole hand into the waters to wash off the words.

“as i said before, i was about to fade away in forgotten memories, but you, sweet praying girl. you brought me back here.”

there's an unexplainable feeling that starts to swell deep inside your heart at this man's words. he's a random soul you just happen to keep praying for when you pass by his grave. it looked like nobody prays for him, so you took up the simple act of doing so.

but to hear as he utters such words out from his mouth, it makes you want to clench at your heart and squeeze it until it explodes.

“this isn't heaven or hell, right?” your question makes touya nod. “this is purgatory. the waiting room that lies between heaven and hell. this is where all prayers are heard, and where all sins and judgements are accessed. this is the garden for sinners.”

“how long have you been here?”

“longer than i could count.”

his hands are retrieved from the waters as he flicks them dry, shifting just a bit so he sits next to you with his gaze on the tree. “its not very nice to be forgotten. especially if you're the last one standing on the battlefield before being betrayed by your own army.”

you glanced at him. “betrayed by your own army…?”

“i’m a colonel, serving as the leader of my regiment. touya todoroki, as you know. to lead my regiment onto the battlefield and to be the last man standing before the other colonels strikes you down is hell. these scars all over me will always be a painful memory. i hate them.”

just a few minutes with touya was all it took to know all about him and his life. what a truly sorrowful story his life has led him on. the more you listen, the more your heart twists with sympathy.

he was a soul you didn't even know existed, yet now as he speaks of this large tree of life that rests, you can't help but feel the desperate need to embrace him. so as he runs his mouth, you shift close to wrap your arms around him, cradling his head to your chest like he is a child of some sort.

to feel a hug in what felt like an eternity definitely has touya freezing in shock, eyes widening as he stops speaking.

“it's okay,” you whispered, and he crumbled beneath you, his body melting into your warm embrace and his eyes shutting to wrap his own arms around your figure.

“nobody deserves to be forgotten. that's for sure. even in life or death, no one should be left alone,” you softly said, words wrapping around touya like a comforting veil as he lets your voice bring him to his own peace and tranquility.

when your fingers weaved themselves into his soft and snowy white hair, he let out a contented hum. it's so overwhelming for him that he can do nothing but bask in your sweet comforting embrace. you feel like your prayers which have been uttered to him back in the world of the living.

touya feels as if he doesn't need to wait for another eternity in purgatory just to disintegrate into nothing anymore.

“what's your name? touya asks you as he stands across from you. it's hours later, you believe, and you're back at where you first stepped foot in.

“it's y/n,” you replied, and he nodded. his fingers slithered to curl around your fading ones, having spent so long on this other side has caused your existence to be comfortable as if you are one of the dead. his thumbs brushes against your knuckles before he steps closer to lean to your level.

“thank you, y/n. for everything,” he leans close to gently press his lips onto yours before pulling away, a smile forming onto his scarred face. his fingers uncurled and he gently pushes you towards the torii gate.

“go. the living awaits you.”

you looked at him one last time before smiling on your own. “i won't ever forget you, touya. it's a promise. i hope to see you again.”

“me too. farewell now, y/n. and thank you again.”

as you step through the torii gate, the scene of the misty mountain disappears into the living world where the graveyard still exists. your eyes immediately travelled back to touya's place of resting, feeling a small smile forming on your face.

your fingers which have gone back to normal gently touched his tomb, letting your touch linger for a moment before you leaned down to kiss his tombstone, saying your farewells before walking away.

the memories of touya todoroki lives on, along with the lingering kiss on your lips which makes your eyes grow glossy at those memories. it appears your soul is just very attached to his, granting you one visit before touya takes his next step in the afterlife.

© SENEON 2024 ♰ do not repost, alter, or translate.

[mercuriians]

I feel like a fic about Atsumu, Oikawa, and Bokuto finding their s/o reading fanfic about them would be hilarious

(You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to <3)

Have a lovely day and thank you if you end up doing this request <33333

a fantasy world

content info — gender neutral! reader, fluffy hq!! drabbles with some crack & hurt/comfort (sounds weird but bear w it, all separate). a teeny tiny bit suggestive in atsumu's part cuz he's a little shit.

word count — 1.9k words.

author’s note — holy HELL this is so late 😭 anon i hope ur still here, i made this pretty long so that's my way of apologizing. im also praying that atsumu is in character because this is only the second time ive written him. anyway, tysm for requesting!! hope u all like this <3

MIYA ATSUMU

your eyes are obstinately glued to your phone, wholly transfixed by the words that were typed across the screen. not a single soul knew about your little hobby and quite frankly, it was likely better that they remained oblivious. you wouldn’t know how to react if anyone found out, but really, there was one particular person who absolutely had to stay unaware.

as it turns out, they were also the very subject of the story you’re currently reading—of course, none other than your sweet, beloved boyfriend, atsumu. not that the term ‘sweet’ was an especially fitting term for him. ooh, that was a sick burn.

now, obviously you loved the boy. atsumu was bold, intelligent, thoughtful, hardworking, and affectionate to the point where osamu and the rest of his team often complained about how shameless he was in front of them. his spirit burned bright with fiery ambition, glimmering red and orange and yellow, and he introduced a kind of light into your life that you had never quite experienced before. at first you were a little wary at first, a little blinded by how much he shone, but because you were just as stubborn as he was, you soon grew used to it.

if anything, you came to learn that atsumu was undoubtedly one of the most inspirational people out there. motivating his peers was like second-nature to him, and even if he didn’t consciously put in the effort to inspire them, he still ended up doing so anyway. his love for volleyball was blatant in its authenticity, in its obsession. so when coupled with his charisma, and, yes, his boyishly good looks, atsumu developed a serious kind of gravitational pull. it was no wonder so many people were drawn in—yourself included.

but, inevitably, something had to be sacrificed. your boyfriend’s devotion to the game often meant that you two didn’t get to spend much time together. if atsumu wasn’t practicing at the gym, then he was either thinking about doing it, on his way to doing it, or—this happens only under the direst of circumstances—recovering from doing it. he was, in every sense of the word, a workaholic.

you were fine with it for the most part, mostly because you had a busy schedule to deal with yourself. if you weren’t doing homework or studying for an upcoming exam for the sake of staying on top of your classes, then you were either fulfilling your duties as a student council member, playing your respective sport, or taking care of things at home.

regardless, there were still times when you wished atsumu was with you. it didn’t matter if he was spewing volleyball jargon, or forcing you to pepper with him, or anything like that. you just wanted to spend time with him, to actually see him and his stupid face and his stupid smile that you want to kiss so badly.

maybe that’s why you’re so zeroed in on the fanfiction you’re reading—to try and make up for what you’ve been deprived of for days on end. a very palpable twinge of sadness tugs at your heart. you push the unwanted sentiment to the depths of your mind, trying to focus on reading the story again.

god, what sentence were you even on? and why was the door suddenly opening—

“hey baby, did ya miss me?”

your soul leaves your body.

before you even have time to think, a shrill scream rips from your throat as you scramble to hide your phone underneath the covers. atsumu's jaw drops, completely and utterly befuddled by your behavior. after a moment he raises his hands in mock surrender. "jeez, darlin', it's just me. your boyfriend, remember?" atsumu says, brow raised. there's a mixture of emotions written across his face—slight concern, palpable amusement, even some suspicion. "what are ya hidin' there on your phone, anyway?"

finally, you seem to find your voice. "n-nothing important," you mumble, clearly and very intentionally avoiding the intensity of atsumu's hawk-like gaze. "i didn't even know you'd be visiting today.. thought you would be busy with practice again."

maybe it's because your boyfriend knows you so well by now, but he catches the hint of bitterness in your tone. his face softens, and he takes one, two, three steps toward you until he's taking up the space on your left. "coach called in sick, so mister perfect decided to just cancel practice for today," atsumu shrugs. you're still somewhat upset, but you can't help but smile at the setter's nickname for his captain—kita shinsuke, the closest embodiment of perfection that anyone's ever seen.

"i'm pretty sure i texted ya that i would be dropping by," your boyfriend adds, glancing over at you. cautiously, you pull out your phone again and open up the messages app. lo and behold, he did in fact text you, but you were too busy with your fanfiction to notice.

your face burns with the weight of your embarrassment.

a small chuckle escapes from atsumu's mouth. "wow, i haven't even done anything and you're already blushin' for me," he teases. you hit his chest halfheartedly, muttering about how mean he's being. you fail to notice the calculating glint in his eyes. you also fail to notice his hand wandering.

a second later, atsumu grins smugly, your phone held securely in his grip.

"what the hell, 'sumu?!" you screech, trying to retrieve the object in vain. "how did you even—"

"i'm good with my hands," he winks, and you don't even have time to scold him for the clear innuendo because he's typing in the password to your phone. all you can do is accept your fate as atsumu discovers the story you were reading.

as expected, he laughs. loudly. it's almost like the laugh he lets out whenever he wins a bet against osamu. you turn away, shame and humiliation gnawing at your chest. there's nothing more you want than to be swallowed by the floor beneath you.

however, when atsumu's laughter dies down a few moments later, you feel him wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "baby," he begins, voice still a little breathless from all his cackling, "why are ya reading this when ya got the real thing right here?"

you look up at him, a confusing mess of emotions swirling within your stomach. "because we don't seem to spend much time together anymore," you admit, lowering your eyes to the ground. "laugh all you want, but these stories are there for me whenever i need them. you probably think it's stupid, or pathetic, or whatever, but.. i miss you, 'sumu."

you close your eyes, preparing to hear another round of thunderous laughter. it never comes.

"open yer eyes for me, babe," atsumu's voice is unexpectedly soft, tender. hesitantly, you do, and your gaze meets his. your boyfriend reaches out, resting a calloused hand against your cheek. his touch is so familiar, so comforting, that you can't do anything else but lean in and welcome it. "i didn't know that ya were feelin' this way, and i'll admit that it's my fault for not noticing. but hey, you wanna know somethin'?"

"what is it?" you whisper.

"i miss ya too," your boyfriend confesses. he leans in, placing a soft kiss against your lips. "and tomorrow, i'm taking ya out on a date."

OIKAWA TOORU

"oh my god, this is so cute," you sigh dreamily, swinging your feet in satisfaction as you indulge yourself. it was fanfiction, for crying out loud—can you really be blamed? this particular story practically reeked of fluff. you had just received flowers from the male lead, with you two having confessed just a few days ago. now you were on the first date, entering the doorway to a beautiful relationship that made every reader jealous.

the fact that the male lead—the infamous setter of aoba johsai, fanboy of iwaizumi hajime, hater of ushijima wakatoshi—also happened to be your boyfriend was just a minor detail.

you continued reading, the outside world completely irrelevant as you immersed yourself in the story. soon another squeal leaves your lips as oikawa, the male lead, bends down to kiss your hand. he says something swoonworthy, causing you to giggle like a madman. "that's it, i'm marrying you," you say, as if he can hear you through the story.

"marrying who?"

you let out a defeated sigh as your boyfriend pops his head into your room. there's a pout on oikawa's face, his mocha eyes filled with mock betrayal. still there's a part of you that knows he actually is a little bit jealous; he just doesn't know that technically, he's jealous of himself. "who are you marrying, babe?" he asks you somewhat accusingly. "i think it's a bit too early for—"

"shut up please," you groan, a bit sad that your reading session got interrupted. "i'm reading this fanfiction of you, and in the story, you're actually nice to me."

you immediately hear an indignant gasp from your boyfriend. he puts a hand to his chest, his pout now even more prominent. "excuse me, i am nice to you," oikawa scoffs as he walks over, squinting at the story you're reading. "i'm way better than him!"

"you are him," you deadpan.

"exactly! why are you reading that when i'm right here? i'm hurt," oikawa says in disapproval, shaking his head at you. "now move over."

you blink—once, twice. "wait, what?"

"i wanna read too," oikawa says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, "so i can list all the things they got wrong about me."

BOKUTO KOUTAROU

maybe reading fanfiction about your boyfriend wasn't the best idea. it's not that the story wasn't great because it really was—the characterization was on-point, the writing style was smooth and elegant, and the plot was creative. it's more about your boyfriend himself. particularly the way that he reacted when he found out.

"am i not good enough?" bokuto asked you quietly as he stared up at you. his golden eyes were absolutely despondent, his shoulders were slouched, and even his owlish hair looked like it was deflated. you didn't need akaashi to understand that those were all signs of an emo bokuto.

and it was all because of you.

man, the guilt was unbearable.

"koutarou," you say softly, reaching out to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. "baby, you are more than enough for me. you're amazing, okay? you're my anchor, and you make me smile when no one else can. compared to you, this fanfiction means nothing." you pause, placing a tender kiss against his warm cheek. "seeing you sad makes me sad, you know?"

"i'm sorry," bokuto mumbles, burying his face in the crook of your shoulder. "i thought i'd let you down or something, like i wasn't being a good boyfriend. it scared me."

his words make your heart hurt even more. you pull away from the hug, letting your earnest gaze meet his. "from now on, you don't have to be scared," you tell him seriously. "i'll stop reading fanfiction, and every day, i'll remind you of how much you mean to me. is that fair, kou?"

bokuto nods, and it's at that moment that you start to see the gloomy aura around him disappear. "i love you," he says, and you can tell that he means it. he always does.

you pull him closer, your fingers combing through his hair soothingly. he hums quietly, enjoying the feeling. "i love you too, koutarou," you smile. "and no story will ever change that."

you let a few moments pass by, simply listening to the comforting sound of his heartbeat. slowly, you let your eyes close, your boyfriend's strong embrace lulling you to a light rest. after a few moments, though, bokuto's voice breaks through the silence. "can i ask you a question, babe?"

you open your eyes. "anything."

he pulls away, his expression completely serious as he looks at you. "can we get something to eat?"

[autisticsupervillain]

Autistic Avatars not realizing that they're Avatars because they're just "like that": a thread

The Eye

Special Interest in the supernatural = constant food for The Watcher

You know about Interest? TELL ME EVERYTHING

"Hey man listen to me infodump about this horrifying ghost story I read for twenty minutes, alright?"

I need to Know everything about something before I partake in it.

"How did I Know that? Eh, I probably hyperfixated on it at some point."

I cannot be misunderstood so I'll beam the facts into your brain.

The Web

I must plan everything 200 steps in advance before doing anything.

I have prepared for all possible outcomes, I can now have this one conversation.

If I set up all these variables long in advance, then I can do everything correctly and Win the social interaction.

I cannot do anything before The Plan says to.

"I practice my social skills by talking to my spider friends." -Martin "Autism" Blackwood

The Stranger

I cannot socialize without being Uncanny.

If my socialization seems like an act, that's because it is. I practice it in the mirror every day.

Theater Kid

How do you Normal Human?

The Anatomy Class.

Assuming fellow Stranger Avatars also just have the 'Tism. They're not trying to be creepy, honest.

Can't do faces. Doesn't notice when you get replaced.

Being subtly off is too subtle for me.

The Lonely

"I have failed the social interaction. Let the fog reclaim me."

Talking to people is draining my batteries even faster than ever. I need to be alone for approximately 384,400,000 years.

Nothing can overstimulate me in the cool, blinding fog.

Nothing unpredictable can happen in the fog.

The fog is your friend.

The known connection between autism and depression feeds the fog.

The Dark

Why is the sun so god damn bright? I'm going to blow it up I swear.

Night Owl.

Everything's decently quite at night and people leave you alone.

Same overstimulation preventatives as the Lonely tbh. Dark and fog are good concealers.

The dawn is your enemy.

The dread florescent lights shall never bother me again. They break upon my arrival.

Can and will infodump to the monster under my bed. Even now it feels like it listens.

The Spiral

Autism makes getting other mental illnesses recognized hard.

Autism dissociation from body and mind. When did it become 3 AM and why do I hurt? Why am I grumpy? What vital self care task did I forget?

Literal mind doesn't often match reality. Reality is specifically unspecific.

Spaced out and wandered off. Where the fuck am I?

I'm not a mental baby, please stop treating me like it.

I'm not inherently dangerous, please stop treating me like it.

Memory problems my beloathed. Did that happen? I dunno.

What Is Time?

What Is Me?

The Gender

Why do things only make sense to me? What does no one else make sense?

The Flesh

Autism Genderfuckery = Flesh fueled dysphoria.

Meat is the only texture that's palatable. Especially the Mystery Meat.

Will never try any other foods. Too picky.

Infodumps about the horrors of meat processing at dinner and ruins the meal for everyone. More steak for me.

Hates PETA.

Double the arms means double the stim. You weren't using them, right?

Working out is a great stim.

The Corruption

Practices social interaction with the bugs who live in my walls.

"Insects are disgusting. I love them!"

Will protect endangered insects by any means necessary.

According to all known laws of aviation-

Relationship boundaries struggles.

Difficulty noticing sickness symptoms.

Is that nausea or am I overstimulated? *Accidentally causes supernatural plague outbreak*

Difficulty getting diseases diagnosed because of both Autism and noticing too many symptoms so the doctors assume they're faking.

Forgot vital hygiene needs.

The Bugs Are My Friends! They keep me company when I'm sick!

The Buried

Weighted blankets are insufficient, I need the Earth to reclaim me.

Avoid social interaction by tunneling everywhere like a mole.

101 facts about worms.

Forgor hygiene again. Time to become dirt.

Digging a hole is good stimming.

That guy who had to be buried alive to sleep properly. What do you mean you don't want to be buried?

The End

Aradia Megido from Homestuck.Com

That's it, that's the list.

The Desolation

The Autism Temper.

Losing relationships and friendships to ableism and your own disability constantly.

The Fire is a wonderful stim board. Watch it crinkle.

Just watching candles melt for hours.

The fire and thrill gives my life passion again.

Jude Perry.png

The Vast

Accidentally terrifying people by infodumping about the horrors of nature.

The stimulus of falling.

Nature/Space/Weather Documentary on in background always.

Okay, but from how high did you fall? I want to calculate your velocity as you fell through the void.

Weirdly enough... power scaling?

Power scaling is just the art of determining how easily your favorite characters can destroy mankind so... yeah, I can see it.

Brain empty, only terminal velocity.

The Hunt

Cat Autism

The inherent hyperfocus of the hunt. The chase. Your prey.

Studying the habits of your latest hyperfixation/Hunt assigned prey for days at a time.

I've spent so much time hunting in the woods that I forgot about human society. The Missing Person's Bureau have written you off for dead.

Returning to society to sell your wears and realizing you aren't human anymore.

That's okay. Social interaction is random. The Hunt makes sense.

It's black and white. Predator and prey. Humans hunting monsters. It Makes Sense.

The Slaughter

The incredible human WW1 documentary.

"Did you know?" *Describes horrible historic warcrime*

Takes apart puts back together guns from their collection.

The list of known casualties from this war is incomplete. With my help, they can expand it. :)

The Extinction

The world is spiraling towards its end and only you seem to care.

It hurts to be this passionate about a lost cause.

You Will Make Them Care.

[laviefantasie]

[ Starry Eyed Barbie ]

Pairings: Highschool Senior Student! Gojo Satoru x Highschool Senior Student! Reader

Summary: When you are head over heels for Gojo since middle school, he can’t understand why it suddenly bothers him when you start to avoid him.

| Masterlist |

Gojo Satoru had given up a long time ago trying to figure you out.

He rolls his eyes as he feels you squeeze his arm before letting go, as if warning him you’d do so, and raising your hand. The professor gives you the right to answer whatever it is that he asked, making you smile brightly with glimmering eyes as you thrive in the attention given. Staring at the clock he debates whether sleeping is possible, knowing you it was; you had always been a teacher’s pet, tending to ask as many questions as possible before hurrying to discuss every little thought on your pretty head with your teacher.

Maybe he had once thought it was adorable, but then you had started clinging to him and his thoughts had changed.

Sighing, Satoru gives an exasperated look to Suguro before spreading his thighs to lean more in his chair. You haven’t stopped talking. He drums a finger on his desk before glancing at you. You look ecstatic, starry bright eyes shining as you hear every word the teacher is saying. You probably have no idea that you are making the whole class sleepy.

It was annoying. Such a know-it-all.

You nod and smile brightly before thanking your teacher, smoothing your pink leather pencil skirt before sitting back down besides him, making sure to wrap your arm around his again, giggling and blushing as you do so.

“Toru, how does going for some boba later sounds? I heard this new place opened close and I thought you’d probably lo—”

“Can't”

There’s bite in his answer, also a hint of annoyance, but that’s not his problem. You’re not his girlfriend, not even his something, so he sees no need in playing along to your little game.

Your sweet smile remains but the bright light in your eyes dims slightly, before coming back brighter than ever.

"Then, we go tomorrow”

"Oh, look at that! We have a presentation soon” he says, nodding to the teacher.

He was just trying to get you off of him, but it was a cheap trick, especially with how much of a nerd you actually were.

You giggle softly, “No, silly! He was just talking about the Laws of Thermodynamics. You’re not listening again, have you even written any notes?”

Why would he when you never fail to send him your rainbow-colored ones?

He sighs, leaning his face on his hand. He was too tired to deal with you for longer than needed and the day had barely started.

The bell rings and he waits not even a second in getting out of his seat, not caring about the gasp that escapes your lips or the hurriedly way you try to grab your things as you ask him to wait for you.

Suguru analyzes the situation before shaking his head in disappointment once Satoru reaches him. So, instead of letting Satoru keep walking, his hand grabs his backpack string making him halt. Groaning as your arm latches onto his, he realizes his best friend betrayed him by giving you the time you needed to catch up.

Geto deliberately ignores the glare Gojo sends his ways, as you hum contentedly at his side.

You all make it to lunch where Shoko waits for you since you don’t share that class together. Utahime and Mei Mei are at her sides, as well as Nanami and Haibara.

They all smile at you as you invite yourself over to sit at his side.

With an excited smile you get out your pink bento box and matching water bottle. He frowns as he feels you get even closer to him.

“Hey girls! Guys!”, you smile brightly at all of them.

Satoru rolls his eyes at your perkiness, taking a sip of his strawberry Ramune drink. You pout in an adorable before taking it away from him, ignoring the ice cold look he gives you and the silence that surrounds you now.

“Don’t give me that look, this has too much sugar!” his glare deepens making my your shoulders drop, “Look… it’s bad for your health. You drink so many of them, even though you eat a thousand of sweets a day!”

He scoffs making you slightly panic. Playing with your fingers as you feel yourself become anxious; you turn to your bag looking for the Digimon bento box you made for him and the matching bottle.

“Here” you smile brightly “Made you some homemade food… and sweets” you slide the bento towards him, “Some Daifuku… also made you a strawberry and blueberry smoothie…”

He hates that his hands reach to grab both things and how his eyes brighten once he sees the strawberry and chocolate flavored Daifuku you made.

“Oh!” You gasp, looking through your bag until you get another pink container out “I also brought some chocolate chip cookies and strawberries for everyone!”

Haibara cheers while Utahime and Nanami thank you kindly; Shoko and Geto smile at you as a thanks, while Mei Mei settles for winking flirtatiously in your direction.

Satoru, on the other hand, eats the sweets you made him quietly.

“Is it good?”, you ask him eagerly, eyes all bright as your hands fiddle with your hair nervously.

It’s not the first time you bring him food or sweets for the matter, so he doesn’t understand the need to ask his opinion every single time.

He settles with shrugging with indifference.

Suguru hits the back of his head from beside him making him groan, nevertheless he ignores the pointed look he gives him. He’s not in the mood to play your little game.

Instead of deflating as everyone around you expected, you smile softly before grabbing a tissue and softly cleaning his mouth with it, getting rid of the white powder.

You don’t expect the way he smacks your hand out of the way, as he had never once done something like that.

“YOU FUCKI—”

Your hand reaches for Utahime’s as she stands to defend you, smiling sweetly at her to tell her it’s okay.

Satoru frowns slightly as he realizes what he did. He had never done something physical against you, did this mean he was reaching his limit?

Shoko clears her throat, “You guys heard about Sukuna’s party?”

Mei Mei smirks, “Obviously. Heard there’s gonna be good booze. All in?”

“But…” you tilt your head, “Isn’t it today? It’s Thursday” 

Mei Mei smiles sweetly at you, loving your naivety. You eye each of them only to see all of them not really caring about partying on a school night.

Was this what being a senior meant?

“I don’t know, there are a few assignments I have to work on and midterms are happening soon” you hire your lip, turning to Satoru “Are you going?”

He shrugs, “Sukuna’s booze is good, why not?”

You scoff slightly before turning to Nanami, “Are you going too, Kenti?”

The blond teenager sighs, “Lost a bet to Haibara, so yes, sadly”

“How could you not go? Yuri is here representing her school, she’s gonna see us there!” Haibara exclaims with excitement.

You see them all smile at the reminder making you shift uncomfortably in your place. Hinata Yuri was a childhood friend of them. She wasUtahime’s closest friend. They all were inseparable, yo had known that since you had met them during your last year in middle school. Sadly, Yuri had gone to high school in her mother’s district since her parents divorced.

They all had history. One which you weren’t part of.

Playing with your food you consider attending, it felt kind of intrusive considering it was a reunion, but you missed Yuri too.

Satoru knocks your thigh with his, “Pick you up at eight”

You smile brightly, nodding in agreement. Any hesitance in going disappearing as soon as he touched you.

You were so excited, humming to yourself as you ate, that you didn’t notice Utahime’s worried gaze on you nor the way she glared ferociously at Satoru.

Eight rolled around rather quickly and you found yourself sat on Satoru’s black Acura Integra, rich boy privilege. He buckled you in as you were too busy fixing the skirt of your Bellini Bustier pink mini dress that you had paired with a white cardigan.

You start fixing the pink bow that ties your half updo as you thank him, almost choking on your own saliva as you see him.

He looks god made.

His black shirt was illegally stretched across his chest, his pecs shamefully bulging out, his arms immorally straining on the sleeves of his shirt. His grey pants fit perfectly against his muscular thighs and—

Flustered, you look away. It was too much, he was too much.

You play with your hair and nervously move your ballerina flats around during the drive. Trying to hide the way your face became red with each glance you stole.

The party was already at full swing when you both arrived, the blasting music and the many swaying underage teenagers making it a given. The two floored house had its windows flashing in neon lights. The outside was pretty empty, aside from the cars haphazardly parked by irresponsible teenagers and some of those said irresponsible teenagers puking in the bushes.

You scurry next to Satoru the moment you get out of the car, groaning as you try to keep up with his long strides.

He opens the door and heads inside, not noticing the way his strength makes the door close in your face. You push the door for yourself as fast as you can, ignoring the pain in your nose, afraid to lose him in the crowd. Thankfully you manage to grab his arm in time.

He leads you inside and you struggled to avoid being pushed around by sweaty party animals. Maybe you should’ve worn heels instead of flats, maybe then you wouldn’t feel so small.

Finally, you find yourself sitting with the whole group in the terrace. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, you let your shoulder drops in relief.

“You okay, doll?” Yuri smiles kindly at you, hugging you tightly before offering you one of the drinks in her hands.

“Oh! I’m so happy to see you!”, you exclaim, giggling before letting go, “I’m fine. What’s this?”

“Well… if you keep being the innocent cutie you’ve always been, it’s just fruit punch” she smiles brightly with mischief, “Unless you grew some thorns, little rose, and want something to spike it up?”

You laugh while shaking your head, taking a sip after doing so. Yuri had always been kind to you, and seeing her reminded you to the many time she’d make sure you felt at home in the group.

Sadly, you also remember how close Satoru and her used to be once you see him give her a hug and how flustered she becomes.

Oh.

You take another sip of your drink as you try to remind yourself they were just friends. Really close friends. Begging yourself to forget the way Satoru used to have his attention on her every second of the day during middle school, even when you were always there.

No, you were going to have fun and catch up with your friend.

And you did. You weee truly enjoying chatting with everyone and hearing Yuri’s stories. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel a little out of place when the childhood memories started to surface. You weren’t friends with them during your youth, you had officially joined them at the end of middle school.

You hugged yourself as you listened to them laugh as they recall their shenanigans. It was honestly sweet to watch, yet you couldn’t help to feel slightly bitter. You shake your head to get rid of those feelings.

Sighing, you look at your empty cup. Maybe you should get another drink.

You stare at how crowded the inside of the house is before grabbing Satoru’s sleeve, wanting him to go with you.

“Toru, I need a refill”

He shrugs your arm off, “Then, get a refill”

“Will you come with me?”  

Satoru’s jaw tightens, glancing at Shoko and Geto before harshly turning to you and whispering, “Could you not be annoying for just one second? I’m not your damn babysitter”

Your hand that had been trying to reach for him once again halts, frozen midways before falling to your thigh. You look away as you feel your eyes sting and your nose itch, you were about to cry.

“Fine”, you whisper, head hanging low as you stand up

Satoru resumes his conversation with Yuri, Geto and Shoko. You frown as you see the way he smiles at Yuri, biting your lip as you feel the way your chest clenches.

You turn around, prohibiting yourself from crying in front of them. Satoru already thought you were annoying, you weren’t gonna give him more reasons to think so. You had always known you went to far in the ways you showed your affection, but you just couldn’t help it.

You sigh as you brush the tears that had fallen down your cheeks, slipping your way downstairs.

The party was even more alive than when you had arrived. You see Sukuna in the kitchen drinking a line of shots against Choso, which makes you frown in pity. Silently, you look for a bottle of water before heading out.

You were knocked around as you went, but thankfully you soon managed to get out of the suffocating atmosphere.  

The night breeze softly kisses your skin making you shiver, yet you smiled softly as you take a deep breath. You stare at the starry night, loving the way the stars shine brightly against the darkness that surrounds them.

Sighing, you let yourself sit on the stairs of the porch, taking a drink of your water as you keep on staring at the night sky. Your chest ached.

“Party became too much for you?”

You gasp, startled.

Smiling slightly at your reaction, Nanami sits beside you, “Sorry if I startled you”

“Uh… it’s okay” you stutter, “I’m good, just… wanted to cool down. I was planning to go back”

“Sure about that?” He asks knowingly, making your shoulder drop, “It’s a nice night”

You smile, hugging yourself, “It is”

“You like the stars?”

You nod, “Used to watch them with my dad when I was young. That one…” you point at the brightest one, “is called Sirius, like the character from the Harry Potter books. It’s part of the Canis Major constellation, its name means glowing”

“You seem to know a lot. It’s impressive” he nods softly, “What other stars make up Canis Major?”

“Muliphein, Mirzam, Wezen, Aludra, Adhara and Furud” you point at each one as you named them, “it’s special because it has many bright stars, as well as Sirius, the brightest”

“Wow”

Your smile falters as you hear something break inside, reminding you where you are. Nanami notices making him sigh before pushing himself to stand up.

“How do you feel about going for a drive?”

You look at the water bottle in your hands, tightening your grip on it before standing up with determination.

“I think that sounds like a great idea”

He offers a hand and you take it. His Range Rover comes to view and he hurries to open the door for you. You halt in surprise before smiling softly.

“What?”, he raises a brow.

You shake your head, giggling softly, “Nothings. It’s just, you’re really a gentleman”

“This is the bare minimum”, he states, “You shouldn’t expect less”

Your smile falters, but he doesn’t mention it.

Nanami drove around while you told him every little fact about the stars that came to mind. His interest in it as he asked questions made you get more excited with time, making you rambled nonstop.

You were really having fun.

It was on the way back to the party that you realized that if you went back your mood would turn sour, so you kindle asked him to drive you back home if it wasn’t too much trouble. He kindly agreed.

You smiled at Nanami once you got out his car, “Thank you, Kento, really. I had fun”

“I had fun too, Y/N. Thanks for the Star facts”

He waited until you got inside your house before leaving, making you smile softly to yourself feeling your heart warm because of his sweet nature.

You take off your shoes and quietly go to your room, taking off your clothes before going to your private bathroom and jumping in the shower to quickly clean yourself. Once you are dressed in your silk pink pajamas, you grab your phone from your purse and connect it to the charger.

Turning around to lay down, you halt as you hear your phone ring to announce a text.

Toru <3: Where are you?

Y/N: Home.

Toru <3: What?

Toru <3: Who drove you?

Toru <3: You should’ve told me if you wanted to leave.

Y/N: Didn’t wanna annoy you.

Toru <3: You can’t leave without saying something.

Toru <3: You have to let me know.

You frown. You dont know if it was the emotional or the physical exhaustion, but you found yourself punching letter by letter of the message, not second guessing before sending it.

You don’t even bother checking if he texts back, locking your phone before throwing yourself on your bed.

Y/N: You’re not my boyfriend, I don’t have to do anything.

Satoru frowns as he stares at the text you just sent him, writing and deleting as he tries to decide what to text back. But end up with his mind totally blank.

You were right. He wasn’t your boyfriend, you didn’t have to tell him if you wanted to leave or give him an explanation for the matter.

So, why was he feeling so… weird?

He scoffs. He didn’t need to dwell on it too much c tomorrow everything would go back to the way things were.

Except they didn’t. You weren’t in his usual parking space when he arrived. He frowned, looking around, before shrugging. You must have fallen asleep, you weren’t used to going out on weekdays after all.

He nods at Geto and Shoko once he gets to his first period, letting himself fall in between them.

“Where’s Y/N?” Shoko asks, looking at the door expecting your smiling face.

“Late” he shrugs.

Nanami and Haibara join them as soon as the words leave Satoru’s lips, making a small smile grow on Nanami’s face.

“Sure about that?”

Satoru frowns, but it is Geto who asks, “What you mean?”

Nanami shrugs, serious face back on as he starts getting his books out.

But Satoru didn’t appreciate his secrecy. He had been kept in the dark by you last night, he wasn’t in the mood for that anymore.

And then it clicked.

“You were the one who drove her home, am I wrong?” Gojo asks Nanami, almost accusingly.

Nanami raises a brow, “And if I did?”

Satoru rolled his eyes but he stayed quiet.

Shoko and Geto share a look before glancing at Gojo. But Satoru had never been easy to read, always nonchalant and charismatic, never wavering. So it was a shock when they both realize the way his jaw tighten slightly before letting go.

Interesting, they thought.

You had been nowhere to be found by lunch, but Nanami had appeared with your usual pink container full with treats, smirking as he stared you sent them.

Suguru and Shoko had been eyeing Satoru warily as he seemed a second away from snapping with each second that passed. He kept bouncing his leg, without pausing, and clenching and unclenching his hand and jaw.

Everyone at the table remained silent as Haibara’s old words of reassurance of you probably being sick were squashed by Nanami’s appearance.

“Why isn’t Y/N here?” Shoko decides to ask.

Nanami grabs one of the brownies you made them this time, “She said she was gonna eat with the girls in her baking club. Was waiting near my locker with the treats”

Satoru’s hand clenches tightly. You had look for Nanami, but hadn’t even bothered to text him?

He hated this.

He hated more not knowing exactly why he hated it so much.

He saw you in Chemistry, but you didn’t cling to him as you used to. You only smiled at him from your sit beside his before burying yourself in your book. Asking questions and sneering them as usual. Taking colorful notes as usual.

But, not even glancing at him as usual.

What was going on?

He took a deep breath. It was Friday, he wouldn’t even remember this bitter taste during the weekend, which would make him go back to normal by the start of next week.

It’d be fine.

Except that by next Wednesday, he couldn’t handle it anymore. He had spent the whole weekend staring at his phone waiting for one of your texts reminding him to eat well or one scolding him to do his school work; he’d even accept one of your random visits to bring him a sweet you’d bake.

And it had already been three days since the week started and you kept ignoring him. Even when you decided to have lunch with them, you sat beside Utahime now.

His personalized Digimon bento box made by you had disappeared and only the container with sweets for everyone remained.

It was… upsetting.

He felt his chest ache and a sting in his eyes the more he thought about it. What had happened? What was going on with him? Why couldn’t he stop shaking his leg? Why did he kept glancing at the door for pastel colors when Nanami had told them you weren’t eating with them today.

“Satoru”, Geto calls him softly, “You okay?”

No. He wasn’t okay.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Shoko and Geto share a look, before the brunette sighs in defeat, “Hey, Nanami”

The blond one stops conversing with Haibara to listen to her.

“Did you see Y/N today?”

Nanami frowns, “Yeah… she said she wasn’t coming to lunch”

Shoko rolls her eyes before pointedly nodding towards Satoru’s lost gaze in his food and relentless fidgeting.

Nanami sighs, “She mentioned how she wanted to try the new vintage Library-Café near campus for lunch”

His legs stops moving, his jaw and hands unclench just as his foot shifts. Yet Satoru remains sitting.

Geto smiles faintly, before rising from his place nonchalantly, “I gotta go review for Calculus, midterms are soon after all”

Haibara’s eyes widen, “Oh, crap! I don’t understand a thing”

Nanami sighs, standing up as well, “Then, we’ll be joining you, Geto”

Suguro nods before guiding both boys out of the cafeteria with him.

“I need a smoke break”, Shoko whispers before leaving.

Utahime crosses her arms in defiance, understanding what all her other friends were doing but refusing to participate in it.

Mei Mei, though, was finding the situation really amusing.

“Let’s go shopping, ‘Hime”

“HUH?!”

Utahime is dragged by Mei Mei as she relentlessly voices how they can’t go shopping when they still have classes.

Satoru wasn’t stupid. He knew what they were doing, but he couldn’t find it in himself to truly care. Not when his body basically jump out of his seat as soon as Mei Mei and Utahime disappeared from view. Feeling ridiculous as he ran outside.

You thanks the waitress as she leaves the tray on your table. You smiled contently at the view. A Matcha Frappuccino, a blueberry cheesecake, and the new book you had just bought.

It was truly a sight for sore eyes.

You grabbed the fork quickly before taking a piece out of your cheesecake, hurrying to try it.

You moan in pleasure at the flavor, closing your eyes as you do so. You definitely needed to try to bake this one, it was true perfection. Not too bitter, but not too sweet, just right on the spot.

“That good?”

You squeaked in surprise, which Satoru found extremely endearing.

Grabbing the tissue and cleaning your mouth, you frown as your eyes meet his celestial blue ones.

“What are you doing here?”  

“Am I not allowed to come here?”  

You shake your head and scoff before lowering your gaze to your hands, playing with the rings on your fingers.

He never accepted to try any of these spots with you, so why would he come to them?

“You hate places like this” you mutter, “You never seemed to stop reminding me how dull they are, nor how annoying it is to have to sit in a place as you try not to bother others”

“Never said any of those things” he squints his eyes as if trying to remember, “Doesn’t ring a bell”

“I doubt you came for the books, who why are you here, Satoru?”

That stings.

And maybe is that pain that makes him sit right in front of you with the most sincere look in his face you’d ever seen.

“Not for the books, you’re right”, he taps his finger nervously on the table, “I actually came for the starry eyed Barbie”

You stare at him, dumbfounded, feeling your face slowly heat up before shaking your head.

“Why would you come for someone that’s always annoying you?”

He flinches at the reminder of his last words to you, “I… I didn’t meant that”

You scoff, “Yeah, right. I’m not blind, I know I annoy you. Which is why I don’t understand why when I finally leave you along, you decide to bother me”

His gaze moves to his fingers.

Silence.

Your appetite is now gone, so you grab your book and your bag before standing up. You give one step before being stopped by his hand on your wrist.

“I-i’m s-sorry” he softly stated, head lowered, “I didn’t mean it. I really I’m s-sorry, I just—I’m an idiot. I didn’t know what it was like—how it’d feel—I hate it… please, just—I’m sorry…”

You hug him, hating how his breathing grows in speed and how he starts to stutter as he tries to explain everything.

It wasn’t perfect, things weren’t just magically okay, but it was the right track.

That’s how next week on Wednesday during lunch, when raising their heads to say hi as they heard Satoru’s loud voice saluting them, Shoko and Geto freeze midway, before smiling, at the sight.

Because fire the first time ever, instead of them seeing you clinging onto Satoru’s arm desperately, he had it wrapped around your waist lovingly.

[wonustars]

𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘓𝘪𝘱𝘴 𝘛𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘦

Beomgyu Vers. | Yeonjun Vers.

Summary: You find Soobin alone at a cafe after he's been stood up. You can't help but comfort him, leaving you both crushing on each other after. Days later you ask him to study with you, but how much studying did you two actually end up doing?

Reposts are always appreciated/encouraged!! Tumblr works on reblogs not likes, Thank you for your support :)

Tags: friends? to lovers, blond!soobin, nonidol!soobin, university au, soobin is a very smart man, kinda more like aquaintances, the reader is kinda obsessed w soobin, soobin is also kinda obssesed with the reader, a little fluffy? yeonjun cameo (hint hint)

Warning: smut mdni! soft dom/dom!soobin, sub!reader, afab!reader, cum eating, mutual masterbastion (?), dacryphilia, public sex, bigdick!soobin, they have sex in the library..., pet names, cream pie, unprotected piv sex, they also have sex on top of a desk lmao, multiple positons, oral (m. receiving), throat fucking, breast play (lmk if i missed any!)

Wordcount: 4215

Note: you all voted for Soobin so i'm here to deliver! I hope you all like this one as much as the Beomgyu one! comment or send me an ask if you want to be apart of the taglist!! Yeonjun will be next if this one does well :)

happy reading~

Soobin sits at a table with two cups of coffee, except there is no one there but him, and the worker behind the counter. Unfortunately, his date had stood him up for Choi Beomgyu. He feels a little embarrassed and sad, he thought this date was going to go well. This was when you walked in, the bell on the door signalling your arrival. You look around and see that no one else is in here, it was too late to have a cup of coffee but you didn’t care. You’ve been craving that iced matcha latte all day. 

After grabbing what you needed, you’re about to leave until you see Soobin sitting alone. You recognized him from your biology class and you two had mutual friends but didn’t talk much. The window he was leaning against was fogging up from his breath, he looked upset and deep in thought. Your eyes immediately turned to the two cups left on the table, but there was no one else there. Putting two and two together you can’t help but feel guilt stir at the bottom of your stomach. He looks like he needs a bit of cheering up, you thought. 

“Hey, Soobin!” You call out, waving your hand. Walking towards him with a joyful bounce, you reach his table and take a seat across from him. Soobin moves so that his head isn’t leaning across the window anymore. He gives you a half-hearted smile looking down into his lap. 

“Hey y/n, what are you doing here?” He asks you, but he doesn’t sound so interested. Understandably, his mind is wandering to his date who went home with another man. The music of the cafe is gleefully ringing through the speakers, a stark comparison to Soobin’s gloomy attitude. 

“Oh you know, just wanted to get in my daily matcha fix,” you answer with a bright smile, trying to help offset his negative mood. Giving you that same sad smile, your heart aches. Soobin looks like a kicked bunny and you just want to see his cute smile again. His blond hair reflects the fluorescent light and it mimics a halo over the top of his head. You find him so endearing that you want to curse out whoever decided to stand him up like this. There was only one way to go about it, you’ll just have to tell him you know why he's so upset.

“I know you got stood up, it’s a little obvious Soob, but whoever they are, they’re stupid. I would kill to go on a date with a guy as kind as you,” you reassure him. 

Looking up at you, his eyebrows are raised, he looks like you just told him he won a million dollars. He was so handsome, especially with the way his heart-shaped lips curled into the most adorable smile.  

“Really?” he asks, sounding hopeful.

“Of course Soobin, you’re a great guy and not to mention tall and attractive. Don’t let this one date let you get down,” giving him another soft smile, you stand up from your seat and leave the cafe. 

Walking back to your place your mind can’t help but drift back to Soobin. This was probably the first time the two of you spent a good chunk of time alone. You’ve never taken an honest good look at him until now, but you found him to be so attractive. The way his dimples would appear when he would smile, and oh god, his lips. His lips looked so soft and they were the perfect shade of pink too. You’re smiling like a madman walking back to your apartment but you can’t help it. Soobin seemed like such a nice guy, and from what you’ve heard around campus he wasn’t terrible in bed either.

*·῾ ᵎ⌇So kiss me, kiss me, kiss me and tell me that I'll see you again 

It’s been a few days since you last saw Soobin, but he still plagues your mind. A once acquaintance has become a stupid little school girl crush.

 Currently you’re studying in the library for another biology test. With that you suddenly remember who is also in your biology class. A small smirk dances along your lips as you pull out your phone. 

me: hey what's soobin’s number again? 

yj <3: y? dont tell me you’re tryna fuck him too y/n.. 

You scoff at Yeonjun’s comment. Yeonjun being the one to say it is even more offensive, especially knowing his history. Being comfortable with having an active sex life did not mean you wanted to fuck everyone you found attractive. You’re a hot and young university student, sleeping around was not a bad thing. Even though you can’t seem to stop thinking about Soobin in that way, that doesn’t mean you’re lying about needing help with biology. Rolling your eyes, you answer Yeonjun’s question. 

me: no.. just need help studying lol 

yj <3: fine. here. 

*yj <3 shared a contact with you*

Once you had Soobins number you couldn’t help but smile in triumph. Having an excuse to spend time with him seemed to be the best way to get to know him. And maybe lead to something more…

me: hey soobin it’s y/n! i was wondering if u wanted to study in the library with me for the bio test this fri? 

soob: hi! sure i’d love to actually, see u in ten. 

Looking down at your screen; your smile reached your eyes. You turn off your phone and place it screen side down, anticipating his arrival.  After all those days of thinking about Soobin, you’re finally able to spend some alone time with him. 

*·῾ ᵎ⌇so sweet when your lips touch mine

Students have left for their next class and it seems to only be you in your secluded section right now, maybe you’ll even be able to have a conversation in between studying. This would be the perfect time to get to know him better. While anxiously waiting for him you start to organize all your things mindlessly. Your highlighters all in a straight line and your laptop in front of you already on the first page of the lecture slide. This is probably the first time you catch yourself getting nervous about a man’s presence. You weren’t sure what type of student Soobin was but you knew he was smarter than average, so you wanted to look equally as studious.

From the corner of your eye, you see a fluffy blond head of hair heading your way. He was dressed exactly like you, a hoodie and baggy jeans complimenting his frame, making him look so good despite the casual attire. Sitting up straighter you pretend to write down notes. While doing so you hear the chair beside you scrape its legs along the floor. You turn your head beaming up at the blond boy beside you. He gives you that same dimpled smile that you’ve come to love, and your legs can’t help but feel like jelly. 

“Hey Soobin, it's been awhile,” your body is now turning to face him, a shy smile finds its way across your lips. He’s already looking at you and you feel your knees weaken even more. Taking out his own laptop and notebook, he responds. 

“Yeah it has, I'm sorry I never reached out to you after the cafe. I’ve been wanting to say thank you for that day though. You really helped me lift my spirits after a shitty situation.” 

Soobin places a hand on your shoulder, and you can’t help but notice how large his hands are. Your mind starts to drift; now you can’t help but think about what they would look like on your body. The way they could easily wrap around your neck, or how big of a handprint it would leave on your ass. Mentally you’re shaking yourself trying not to let your thoughts get ahead of you. A part of you would be lying if you said you weren’t secretly turned on by him right now. He’s just larger than you in so many ways, feeding into your size kink even more. 

“Anytime Soob, I have a feeling you would have done the same thing for me anyways,” shrugging it off like it's no big deal.

 It was hard to focus on the conversation without wanting to glance at his hands every other second. As he turns back to his work, he lets you know that if you have a hard time with the material you could just ask him about it. Reciprocating his smile you turn back to your work as well. 

After an hour or two of studying you end up getting stuck on a practice question. You peer over to Soobin who’s scribbling down some notes from the lecture recording diligently. If you knew this is what he looked like while studying you wouldn’t have told Yeonjun that you’re not trying to sleep with him. The way he scrunches his eyebrows in concentration while biting his bottom lip was driving you insane. Subconsciously you’re rubbing your legs together, you just couldn’t help but think about what his lips feel like on yours. 

“Do you think you could help me with this question? I’ve been trying to do it for the past thirty minutes now,” you ask him and his eyes leave his notes. 

“Yeah of course I can,” Soobin leans closer to you to take a look at your paper. He's so close you can feel his breath on your cheek. Trying to inhale steadily you end up getting a whiff of his cologne. If you weren’t wet already, you’re basically a river down there now. The smell of his cologne was like soft laundry and a hint of musk and vanilla, it was so refreshing. If you could, you would want to spend the whole day just breathing in his scent. 

Soobin leans even more closer, dirty thoughts are still running rampant in your mind. The unsure feeling of if he reciprocated your feelings was gnawing your insides, so you haven’t made your move. 

Your faces are practically touching at this point, you can feel the vibration of his voice as he tries to explain the question. If you turned your head the two of you would be kissing, so cautiously you keep your eyes on your paper. His large hands pointing to the words you’ve written down, but you can’t hear a thing. The way his hands are moving and how it’s practically as big as your page is making your heart palpitate.  

A pair of eyes now on you, Soobin awaiting your reply to his little explanation. Craning your neck to look back at him you can’t help but look at his lips. Realzing what you had just done, you look back up at his eyes. To your surprise he’s looking at your lips too. The feeling in your stomach tightens and you know this is your chance. 

“Fuck studying for biology,” Soobin beats you to it, he takes your head in his large hands and pulls you in for a kiss. It's a heated, passionate kiss and you moan at the feeling of how good he feels against you. Especially with the way his large hand is holding onto your face. You feel dizzy, everything happening so fast, and this doesn’t feel the same way it usually does. Soobin kisses you so delicately, making you feel like you’re on cloud nine. But at the same time, there's so much passion in his actions and you can tell he’s kissing you with so much emotion. 

Gripping your waist now he stands up, lifting you and placing you on the edge of the empty part of the desk. Immediately your legs open to let him stand between them, you gasp into the kiss as you feel his bulge brush against your clothed core. Soobin takes this opportunity to deepen the kiss; while he works his tongue into your mouth you let your hands wander into his hair, tugging and grabbing it, causing him to groan. 

“You don’t know how much I’ve been thinking about this,” pulling away, a shocked expression washes over your face. You weren’t expecting him to feel the same way you did, and it makes you feel even more turned on. 

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that day in the cafe,” you respond as Soobin takes his time planting kisses against your jaw then your neck. Letting out soft sighs of pleasure, Soobin slowly moves back up to your face, smiling into the kiss. His hands find their way to the hem of your hoodie, going under to feel your every curve of bare skin. High on Soobins scent and his touch, you move away from the kiss to pull the hoodie off your body. 

“Please touch me Soob, I want you so bad.” you beg him, giving him an innocent look despite the filth that’s spewing from your mouth. He looks at you with so much lust that you can feel your heat dampen even more. There's a giddy feeling fluttering in your stomach, you were not expecting your study session with him to take such a turn but you’re not complaining. Soobin doesn’t need you to repeat yourself, he’s now back to kissing you with more energy than before. While he’s kissing you he places his hands over your bra cladded chest, feeling you up as much as he can. You’re moaning into his mouth again, not caring about who can hear. 

Moving his hands to your back, he unclasps your bra, swifty removing the material from your body. He takes one of your nipples into your mouth, swirling his tongue and using his teeth to lightly nip at your hardened bud. He doesn’t leave your other breast unattended, giving it the same amount of attention as the other. Hands in his hair again, gripping onto him for stability and out of pleasure. Reluctantly pulling away, he can't help but admire the sight before him. You look so good, your eyes lidded with lust and your lips are swollen from kissing him. He's so hard he could cum just looking at you, then you say something that almost actually made him cum in his pants. 

“Can I suck your dick?” you ask so politely, how could he refuse? Nodding his head his mouth dry with anticipation; while you’re already hopping off the desk and lowering yourself on your knees. Soobin convinced he really could cum untouched, especially with the way you’re looking up at him. This angle of you is just simply so addicting. He’s thinking about whether or not he’ll get to look at you from this angle again. The thought of it making his stomach tighten with excitement.

Cautious with your movements you slowly removed Soobin’s pants. His boxers followed and they pooled to his ankles. When you say he’s big it's almost an understatement, his dick slapping against his stomach as you set it free. The gasp you let out doesn’t go unnoticed and Soobin smiles down at you while gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail. You take his length into your hands and rub the precum over his tip. A groan comes out of Soobin’s mouth, his head falling back, gripping your hair tighter. You’re smiling to yourself, enjoying the way he looks as you pleasure him. 

“Fuck you’ve barely touched me and I already feel like I’m gonna cum,” his voice straining, another groan leaves his lips as you gather spit to lubricate his cock. Teasingly you pepper kisses onto his tip, his hands raking through your hair, holding onto you tighter. You decide to take your time, relishing in the way his eyes scrunch closed as you give his cock kitten licks. 

“Baby I can’t take this anymore, gonna fuck your mouth okay?” before you could say anything your mouth is filled with his dick. A muffled moan comes out of you, his hold on you like a vice. Soobin moves his hips back and forth, your throat trying to take all of him. The tip of his member is hitting the back of your throat, and his eyes are rolling to the back of his head as he feels you gag on him with each thrust. You could feel every vain on your tongue and the way his length is twitching in your mouth, seconds away from release. 

“I really don’t wanna cum like this,” Soobin says as he removes his still hard cock from your mouth. You get up from your knees, giving him a kiss on the lips before stepping back to take off your jeans. He’s watching you while stroking himself, and you feel your core dripping wetness down your inner thigh. Sitting back on the table, you lock your eyes with his. The look hes giving you makes you want to let him fuck you for everyone to hear. It was a miracle you two didn’t get walked in on yet. You open your legs, your hand travelling to play with your clit. Then you insert two fingers inside your wet cunt, pumping in and out. The sound of your sopping heat is making Soobin go feral, especially with the gaze you’ve set on him while you finger yourself.

“Fuck me Soob, please?” you ask so sweetly almost as if you’re asking for the most mundane request. As if you’re asking for anything but to get fucked by him right now. He groans as he watches you take your fingers out of yourself; you then bring your fingers up to your mouth, sucking on them with your eyes still trained on Soobin’s cute face. Still stroking himself, while making his way to you; he looks at you so mesmerized by how dirty you are, and fuck it’s such a turn on. He never imagined you in this way until the night of the cafe. His seemingly innocent crush turned into something more. 

“Be carful what you ask for love, because I’m gonna fuck you till you’re crying for me to stop.” he says at a volume barely above a whisper, his breath fanning your ear. You can’t help but whisper an equally filthy response, your arms now around his neck. 

“I want your cock inside me, want you to see your cum dripping out of me after,” you moan into his ear and he strokes himself up and down your drenched slit, your legs wrapped around his hips tightly.  Without a second to spare he pushes himself inside, a moan leaving his lips as he slides in inch by inch. The breath is knocked out of your lungs, you feel all of him fill you up, and he's not even in all the way yet. 

“Feels so good Soob,” the words are falling out of your mouth in moans, the feeling of him inside you overwhelming your senses. He starts to thrust into you with merciless speed, the sound of skin slapping echoing within the empty library. At this moment you don’t care about who can hear you, all you can think about is how good Soobin’s cock feels inside you. 

“Y-you’re so tight sweetheart, gripping me so fucking tight,” hes groaning into the dip of your shoulder and your neck, leaving love bites as he continues pumping himself in and out of you. 

The only thing you can do is keep on moaning while you hold onto his shoulders for dear life. You look down to see his cock slide in and out, a creamy white ring covering the base of his cock. It turns you on even more, your cheeks blushing at the sight. Suddenly you feel a loss of contact, Soobin has taken himself out of you, he’s breathing heavily while sweat starts to form on his forehead. Before you could whine about it, he takes you off the desk flipping you over. He forces you to spread your legs before shoving his cock back inside you. 

Even though you yelp at the sudden push into your wet pussy, you relax as the pleasure starts to come over you once again. Soobin loves the sound of your insides squelching from the way his dick is fucking you. Especially loving the feeling of his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust. He doesn’t know how much more he can take but he's on a mission to make you cum before he does. 

Lifting you off the desk again he wraps one hand around your waist, the other one snaking its way down to your clit. The feeling of his fingers rubbing circles into your sensitive bud has you seeing stars. Your bent over slightly still, Soobin able to continue fucking you while he gets you closer to the edge. 

“‘M gonna cum soon, don’t stop Soobin please.” you’re crying now, tears of pleasure running down your cheeks. He really wasn’t lying when he said he was going to fuck you till you were crying. 

“Cum for me baby,” is all he says. 

You’re saying his name over and over again, your moans now muffled by his hand. His hand is so large it covers almost all of the bottom half of your face. He’s towering over you making you feel so small. Your eyebrows strewn together tightly and your high is taking over you. Soobin is still fucking you from behind, his own orgasm slowly reaching the horizon. The muffling of your moans and the sound of your wet cunt getting fucked is still bouncing off the library’s bookshelves. 

“Please cum inside me, fill me up please please please.” you beg him, tears still running down your checks. Soobins moves you so you’re bent over the desk, his cock twitching in you. His thrusts begin to get sloppy but his pace is still at an unrelenting speed. Then you finally feel his hot cum spurt inside you, not planning to stop fucking you any time soon. Soobin’s groaning above you, his eyes glued to the sight of him fucking his cum back up into you. Although you're still recovering from your orgasm you can help but meet his hips as he keeps going. 

You’re whining as his balls slap against your clit, it was too much pleasure but it feels so good that you don't want to stop. Soobin is still hard inside you, coaxing another orgasm out of the both of you. 

“You got me so hard baby, gonna have to fuck you again okay?” Soobin’s grip on your hips is even tighter than before. You just keep meeting his hips over and over again, wanting to feel the rush of cumming again. Behind you, Soobin is moaning shamelessly as he continues on fucking you, his thrusts slower and lazier than before. 

You’re a lot more sensitive than now, the feeling of your second orgasm reaching you quickly. Soobin can tell you’re about to cum again because of how tightly you’re gripping his cock. He speeds up slightly wanting to reach his high with you. 

“Mmfph f-fuck,” you whimper as you feel the band in your stomach snapping once again. 

Soobin’s cum is filling you up again, some of it starting to run down your inner thighs. He looks down at your hole once more, your pussy spent and swollen from his large cock. Smiling to himself, satisfied, he finally releases his dick from your cunt. 

“That was so good,” you say as you turn around, taking some of the cum running down your legs and putting it in your mouth. Soobin looks at you with shock, his tired dick twitching even after all that had happened. 

“I would definitely go for one more round but I feel like we’re about to get kicked out soon.” He breathes, a hand running through his hair. You laugh and pull him in for another kiss. He immediately reciprocates even though he’s exhausted. 

“We can always continue this another day, maybe somewhere more private,” you suggest as you pull away from the kiss. He smiles at you with those adorable dimples once again, looking down at you he can’t help but feel warmth fill up his chest. You just looked so good,  hair all dishevelled, pink cheeks and swollen lips. Thinking to himself, he comes to the conclusion that wants to see it more often, and hopefully you feel the same way. 

“Lets clean you up and get out of here,” he replies, kissing your forehead so lovingly, as if he wasn’t fucking you like a whore a few moments ago. 

You both clean up, put on your clothes and pack your things away. Bidding each other good bye with a sweet kiss and a promise to text each other when you both reach home. 

As you watch him walk away you pull out your phone, texting Yeonjun while heading out of the library. 

me: ok maybe I did wanna hook up with him :p 

yj <3: i fucking knew it!! facetime me when u get home

me: okay fine! only cuz ure the one who gave me his number

After all the shameless sex you had, you can’t help but smile shyly thinking about the next time you and Soobin will be able to see each other. 

© wonustars

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 17

Warnings: angst, mentions of unrequited love, mentions of cheating, underaged drinking and drug consumption, break ups, mentions of injuries, mentions of pregnancy (it's just a joke)

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader, Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler, Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: You spend the night before your birthday with Steve and the same night, it takes a turn for him.

Word count: 9.5k

A/N: This chapter made me realize that my writing needs way more improvement, my words are too repetitive, please ignore. Also big shoutout to @hellfire--cult for throwing some really really amazing ideas at me, thank you, love. I appreciate you! @mysticmunson my angel, thank you for always helping me 🤍

series masterlist

-

You missed the warm nights, the transition from winter to spring and spring to summer, where every day it gets warmer and warmer. The sun gets brighter and the flowers adorn every field that you pass by. 

It’s only the end of April but it’s already so warm, this night especially. The breeze you feel on your skin is one that reminds you of a chilly summer night. 

Your eyes are closed, you are leaning back against the railing as you sit outside on your porch steps, waiting for him to come. A year or two ago, you would have waited for him in your room, you would have waited for him to climb through your window and surprise you with a present. 

This year, everything is different. 

You don’t want him to sneak into your room, that would only bring up painful memories again and you have had enough of those in the past few weeks, you know that seeing him tonight, will only make things worse. Still, you can’t help but feel excited to see him. 

You shouldn’t feel this way, you really shouldn’t. 

But you miss him, you miss what you used to have. 

The sound of a car pulling up and the bright headlights make you open your eyes. 

This feels so wrong. To let him back into your life so easily is such a huge mistake. You don’t know what prompted you to say yes to him when he asked you if he could come over the night before your birthday. Maybe it was the wish to uphold the tradition you have had since you were kids or maybe, it was your stupid heart that made you say yes. 

You should have said yes to Eddie when he had asked if you wanted to see a movie with him tonight. You shouldn’t have said yes to him. 

He gets out of the car and his eyes instantly lock with yours, his brows furrow, he is probably wondering why you are outside. There is something in his hand, you can’t make out what it is. 

“Hey,” he says when he walks towards you. 

You force a smile, to match the one on his face. 

“Hi Steve.”

The gravel crunches beneath his nike’s and he looks down, breaking eye contact for a moment. 

You eye him in curiosity. 

Isn’t this weird? 

To do this when he is with someone else? 

Does she know where he is, right now? 

He sits down opposite of you, leaning his back against the other railing. His breathing is a little unsteady and he clears his throat. The porch light is the only thing lighting up the area around you, it’s very dim but you still notice the flushed cheeks. 

“How are you?” He asks, nervously. 

Only as you hear the shakiness in his voice, do you realize just how nervous he actually is. 

You don’t know this side of Steve – you don’t remember ever seeing this side of him. The Steve you once knew was always full of himself, confident, arrogant and cocky. Never nervous. 

You haven’t talked to him in a while. The notes you have passed to each other in class don’t count. 

“I’m okay,” you say as you pull your knees to your chest and wrap your arms around them, “how are you?”

He hesitates and his eyes stray away for a few seconds, he looks down at your hands, staring at your rings. 

You notice the dark circles under his eyes and the way his features are etched with something that reminds you of something that you always used to see on your face whenever you looked at your reflection in the mirror, when he was seeing Nancy. 

“I-I uh, I’m good.” 

It’s a lie.

He usually used to avoid looking into your eyes whenever he lied to you. 

“Are you?” You ask before you can stop the words from spilling. 

When he looks up and you see his eyes again, you notice the frustration behind them. He wears the same look that you used to wear after every fight with him. 

Did they fight? Did she make him cry the way he made you cry? Is that why his eyes are glassy and red rimmed? 

He only nods. 

“It’s almost midnight.”

“Yeah,” you whisper and hold eye contact. 

You hate your birthday, god, you hate it so much. If you could, you would sleep the day away but you can’t.

“What’s that?” You ask, gesturing to the tiny box in his hand, the one he hasn’t let go of since he came here. 

He hesitates when he follows your gaze and looks down at the object in his hand. 

“Uh, it’s your birthday present.”

You raise your brows and you ignore the way your stomach flips at his words. 

“Oh?”

He nods and then scoots closer to you but he doesn’t hand it to you yet. He still holds it tightly. 

“What’s in there?” 

A smile tugs at his lips, “never the patient one, are you?” 

A breathy chuckle falls from your lips and you shake your head, “you know me.” 

His eyes skim over your face, your soft features and the light in your eyes that never died, even after everything he had put you through, the light is still shining brightly even when you can’t see it. 

“Yeah, I do,” he whispers. 

He places his palm on the ground beside you, he is closer now, closer than he had been in a while. His nike’s bump against your black converse, his fingertips graze against yours and the urge to feel his whole hand on top of yours is so strong. 

You look down, eying his knuckles, eyeing the scar. You know where it came from, you still ask, “what’s that?” 

He furrows his brows at your question, then follows your gaze to see what you are looking at. 

“Oh,” he mumbles. 

“I know where you got it from but, how did it happen?” 

You avoid his eyes this time. You never thanked him for what he did. It’s something that 

Steve doesn’t even expect from you, it’s not something you have to thank him for. 

He scratches the back of his neck, “uh well, apparently Ray is a fan of pocket knives,” he laughs. 

Your eyes widen and you stare at him in shock as your heart leaps to your throat. 

“What?” You gasp. 

Eddie told you some things but you know that he left a lot of details out. He didn’t want you to worry. 

Fear flashes in your features and you instinctively reach for his hand. The thought that something worse could have happened to him and to Eddie makes you feel so guilty. 

“It’s fine,” he whispers.

The worry in your eyes makes his heart flutter in his chest. 

You still care about him, you always will. He looks down at your hand, your touch is making his skin tingle and a smile tugs at his lips when he remembers all the times he was able to just take your hand and hold it without a second thought, without having to worry about anything, without having to feel guilty, without feeling like he’s doing some forbidden thing. 

He can’t just hold your hand now, not anymore. 

Not even when she – “No, it’s not! Something worse could’ve happened, Steve–”

“But it didn’t,” he says, interrupting you, “nothing happened to us. We’re fine. Please just, let’s drop this, y/n.”

“But–”

“No buts, I’m not here to talk about that asshole. What’s done is done, let’s leave it in the past, okay?”

Oh, how easy everything could be if that was possible. 

You begrudgingly drop the subject when he keeps interrupting you, not wanting to talk about it. When you try to pull your hand away, he stops you and holds it tighter – you let him. 

You lean your head back and take a good look at him. His hair has grown longer and there is a kindness in his eyes that had been missing in the last few months of your relationship. His touch feels more gentle, his presence makes you feel calm instead of anxious, he seems like the old Steve – the one who still loved you. 

She brought him back, she did something that you could not do. 

You weren’t good enough for that – he did not want to change for you. 

“Does she know that you’re here?”

He tenses up a little and for a moment, he frowns. 

“She wouldn’t care.”

What?

“She wouldn’t care that you’re spending time with your ex girlfriend?” You ask, confused. 

“No,” he says, cringing at the word ‘ex girlfriend’.

You don’t believe it, you can’t believe it, especially not after the way she talked about you after he had dumped you for her. Clearly, she can’t stand you and the thought of her not having a problem with her boyfriend hanging out with you, just seems a little too weird to you.

You would have a problem with that. 

“Okay,” you mumble under your breath. 

“Is everything okay between the two of you?” You ask, still looking down to hide your eyeroll. You don’t really want to hear him talk about his relationship but, you can’t help but feel a little curious. You know that the pain in his eyes isn’t for nothing. 

He hesitates and he tenses up, yet again. You feel it in his touch. 

“Yeah.”

“I know when you’re lying,” you mumble, glancing up at him to see him looking away. 

The chuckle that falls from his lips, isn’t one of amusement. He glances up at the darkening sky.

“I-I just, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“What do you mean?” You frown. 

As he looks back into your eyes, he sees everything that he is looking for – everything that he can never find in her eyes. 

“She is not you.”

For a moment, your heart stops beating, your blood stops pumping, the world stops spinning. Everything stops. 

How can he say such a thing? 

“She’s not the one that I want.”

How can he say this to you after he had told you that he fell in love with her? That he never loved you? 

How can he say this when he looks so happy with her? 

How can he say this when you had asked him to let you go? 

“Steve.”

“I know,” he whispers, frowning at the ground, “I know, I’m sorry. I-I made a mistake and I will regret it for the rest of my life.”

You hate the way your heart flutters despite the pain it’s in, right now. 

You hate the way you wonder about how things could’ve been if you never let him go so easily. 

You hate the way you feel so little again, the way you just let his words get to you, the way they are able to make you feel sad instead of angry. 

You feel like a fool again, the same fool who forgave him over and over again. 

“We both did.” Those three words spill from your lips before you can stop them. 

You feel stupid, you instantly feel so so stupid. You miss the anger, the coldness – the one that never let him back in. 

He looks up, a bewildered look on his face as he stares at you in shock and confusion. 

“What?”

“We both made mistakes.”

He shakes his head, you had never seen such a deep frown in his features, his lips are pursed as he tries to come up with words but he can only stare at you with a questioning look in his eyes. 

You blink, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the nervous feeling that is building up more and more. 

“I-I just,” you pause to take a deep breath, to give yourself the chance to say something that won’t ruin everything again but, something pushes you to say this, “I keep wondering how things could’ve been if I never let you go, how it would’ve been if I just fought for you.”

He whispers your name as he stares at you with eyes that soften the longer he looks at you. 

“I-I never did, I just let you go. I keep thinking about that night at Tina’s party. You spilled that stupid red wine on you that you didn’t even like.”

Steve nods slowly. He feels the bitterness on his tongue, the taste of the sour wine still lingers when he thinks about how much he had drank from it to gain more courage, to make it easier to lie to you, to break your heart. 

“You told me that you weren’t in love with me anymore and I just, I said ‘okay’ and then I left and that’s all.” 

You look back at him with glossy eyes and a frown on your lips. 

“Don’t put the blame on yourself,” he says in anger for himself, “I was the one who lied to you, I was the one who fucked up. Not you, y/n. Never you.” 

“But–”

“No!” He shakes his head, “stop it, where’s this even coming from?”

You shrug and it only confuses him further. 

“Would you have stayed with me if I didn’t let you go?” You ask, “if I fought for you?”

He feels ashamed, he feels guilty and so horrible. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, “I would have stayed with you.” Because this is what he wanted. He wanted you to fight for him, he wanted you to make him stay. 

You know that he is honest and it breaks your heart again. 

“But you shouldn’t have, it wasn’t your job to fight for me. I should have fought for you. You should’ve been the one to leave, not me.”

“What?”

“I was a fucking asshole, y/n. I was an asshole to you, every day of our relationship, I kept fucking up, over and over again and you tolerated it, you never left me. You never got mad at me, you never said anything rude, you never did anything bad, you were – fuck, you were perfect, you are perfect,” he holds your hand tighter.

The tear that rolls down your cheek is quickly wiped away with his thumb.

“And I’m sorry, I am so fucking sorry for what I did to you.” 

He hates the way your eyes continue to well up with tears. He hates the way your bottom lip quivers as you try to not break down. He hates the way you are still hurting because of him. 

“Steve,” you whisper, not wanting to hear his apologies anymore. 

He shakes his head, stubbornly. 

“I’m not just saying sorry for leaving you, for choosing her over you. It’s not just that.”

You sniffle quietly and you press your knees to your chest. Your hand is still in his and you don’t make any moves to pull it away. 

“I’m sorry that I acted like I wasn’t interested in the things you loved doing. I’m sorry that I didn’t show you how much I really loved you. I’m sorry that I didn’t hold you enough, that I didn’t kiss you the way you should have been kissed, that I didn’t take care of you.” 

You start crying before you can stop yourself from doing so. 

“I should have held you that night. God, I hate myself for what I did to you that night. You cried a-and I-I didn’t do anything, I just listened to you cry.”

You close your eyes when your vision blurs. Your heart drops to your stomach and a sick feeling rushes through you. 

You didn’t know that he was awake, you always thought that he fell asleep before you broke down. But he was awake and he heard you. He was awake and he listened to your cries, he just listened and kept his back turned to you when you needed him to just fucking hold you. 

Steve watches the tears rolling down your cheeks, one after the other. 

Back then, he could’ve just pulled you into his arms. He could’ve hugged you, he could’ve held you but he never did – now he wants to so badly but now, he can’t. 

He sees how much you are struggling, he sees how hurt you still are. All these months, he thought that you had moved on, that you had left him in the past, that you had forgotten about the pain. But he was so wrong about everything. 

You have not moved on, you have not left him in the past and you especially, have not forgotten about the pain that he had put you through. 

The girl he knew is still in there just like the boy you once knew is still in him. 

You both changed but, you are also both still the same. 

“I should have given you the locket,” he whispers as he turns your hand around and places the little box into your palm, “I shouldn’t have given you the fucking bracelet that you never wanted.”

To see you cry will always hurt. To know that he is to blame for your pain, will always make him hate himself. To see the way you look at him with so much sadness and still so much love in your eyes will always make his chest burn with regret. 

Your brows are pulled together, your lips are parted and you look down at the box with big eyes. 

You pull your hand away from his and you wipe your tears before you open it after a moment of hesitation. A tear drops on the beautiful locket that you have fallen in love with a year back. 

A present that would have brought you joy back then, only makes you sad now. 

He could’ve seen a smile on your face. He could’ve seen happiness in your eyes. He could’ve heard you squeal in excitement. 

He could’ve. 

You stare at it, a minute passes and then another, you stare at it in silence. 

“I-I didn’t put anything in there,” he mumbles, pointing to the locket, “I know you always wanted a picture of us in there but uh – I figured you wouldn’t want that anymore.” 

You take it out of the box, the heart shaped locket is engraved with little flowers – it’s beautiful. Despite the sadness and the anger that is buried deep somewhere, you smile. 

It’s something that Steve did not expect. The thought of gifting you the little piece that you have wanted for so long after he left made him anxious, it was a last minute decision – this was not the gift he wanted to give you but it’s something that he found when he took his room apart while searching for a box to put the original gift in. This is what you wanted. 

You wanted it for your last birthday but instead he put a bracelet around your wrist, one that you did not wish for. You still loved it, you still smiled brightly and stared at it as though it was the prettiest thing you had ever seen. 

He bought the locket three days before he left you, he intended to give it to you after Halloween but it all went wrong. 

Everything went wrong after that night. 

He chose her and you chose to act like he didn’t exist anymore which is something he isn’t mad at anymore, you should have done worse. 

You gave him the cold shoulder, the glares, the snarky replies whenever he talked to you, whether it was about the essay you had worked on together or something else. You were mean, dismissive and cold. It went on like that for two months until that night when you had parted ways after the party at Jimmy’s place. After that you just seemed unbothered by his presence, like he didn’t matter anymore.

Now you are showing him a side that he does not deserve to see – the vulnerable, loving side that he only got when you were still his. 

He hates that you think that you should have fought for him. He never deserved it. He never deserved you. 

He prefers it when you hate him – he deserves that more than your love. 

You are silent for the longest time, just staring at the locket in your hand and he watches you with a bitter taste on his tongue and a deep sadness in his eyes. 

“Thank you, Stevie.”

It’s been a long time since you called him that. 

You lift your head and turn to look at him, your eyes meet and he smiles. 

“You’re welcome, y/n.”

The smile that you give him makes him realize just how much he truly misses you. 

He misses the sound of your giggle, he misses the way your eyes lit up when you saw him, he misses the way you would smile into the kisses, he misses the way it feels to hold you, he misses being with you. God, he misses you. 

You look down and with a heavy sigh, you push yourself up, “I-I should go inside.”

The disappointment that rushes through him is deep, he doesn’t want this to end, he doesn’t want to say goodbye again, he doesn’t want to go back to a love that is forced. 

“Yeah,” he breathes, getting up as well. 

For a moment, you stand in front of each other, not moving, not looking away from one another. His hands itch for your touch and you long to feel his arms around you. 

Should you tell him how much you miss him? 

Should you hug him?

Should you tell him how he haunts you in your memories? 

His hair looks soft beneath the dim porch light, his eyes even softer as he stares at you, his lips – stop. You curse at yourself for letting your mind go there. He is not yours, he belongs to someone else. 

Steve sees the way you look at him; it’s still the same. 

And that little moment is enough for him to make a decision. 

“Goodbye,” you whisper. 

He hesitates. 

Once again, he finds himself here, not wanting to say goodbye to you.

“Goodbye.”

You tear your eyes away from him, you look down and walk towards your door. You lift your hand, reaching for the doorknob when you feel his fingers closing in around your wrist. 

“Hey,” he says softly. 

You’re met with a smile when you look back again. 

“Happy birthday, dolly.”

A breathy chuckle falls from your lips and you smile, “thank you.”

Last year he would have kissed you. 

This year he can’t even hug you.

You turn back around and he watches you hesitate, his hand is still holding your wrist and you turn to him once again. You let go of his hand and you lift the sleeve of your sweatshirt to show him something. 

The dainty pearls around your wrist make his eyes widen. 

“I love the bracelet, by the way,” you say with a smile before you walk into your house, leaving him standing on your porch. 

The warmth in his stomach is only there because of you, because of the love you still got for him – and even if you had no love for him anymore, he would still feel it. You could break his heart into a million pieces and Steve Harrington would still love you more than anything else in this world. 

He can push you out of his life, he can try to fall in love with someone else, he can replace you with another girl but no one will ever be you. 

No one will ever make him feel the things that you make him feel. No one can make his heart race the way you do. No one can make him feel so safe and loved despite the distance, no one but you. 

It’s always you, it’s always been you, it’ll always be you. 

There is no point to be with someone he can never love the way he loves you. There is no point in being with someone who could never love him the way you loved him.

It’s all just pointless, everything that has happened since Halloween night is pointless. 

His mind is filled with thoughts, ones that keep him so distracted that he doesn’t even notice that the light in his bedroom is on. Only when he steps into his room and he notices his girlfriend sitting on his bed, does he realize that he is not alone tonight, like he wanted to be. 

He instantly notices the frown on her face, the crossed arms and a look of anger in her eyes.

“Nance,” he mumbles with furrowed brows, confused by her presence. 

He takes a look around his room to find it a mess, messier than it was before. Books, clothes and notes are scattered all over the carpet, an open box lying on the floor, pictures of you and him spilling out of it. Your green scrunchie from cheer practice lying on the sweater that belongs to him, one that he had put into the box because it was basically yours, it smelled like you, it probably still does. 

Realization floods through him, but there is no ounce of fear inside of him. He isn’t scared of what is about to happen.

Nancy is holding one of the many notes and she looks at him in disbelief, scoffing as she holds it up for him to see. 

“I’ll throw it away later, huh?” She asks, mocking him. 

He doesn’t have to take a closer look to know which note it is. It’s the one she found in his car a few months ago, the one he promised to throw away.

He doesn’t know what to say so he just stands there and looks at her, trying to figure out what she is feeling right now. 

She is not hurt, he knows she isn’t, just angry. 

Her eyes have strayed away from him just a few weeks after he left you for her. The moment Jonathan stepped into her life, her heart was no longer his, she gave it to her supposed new friend. 

He saw the stolen glances, the lingering touches. He knew about the secret meetups, he knew about what she did when they had decided on taking a break. But, he never said anything, he never did anything about it. He tolerated it because he thought that he deserved it. 

She did the same thing that he did to you, just so much worse. At least, he had never slept with anyone else, he had never kissed anyone else. 

Everything that she did in the course of their relationship is something that he was afraid of you doing to him. He was stupid for even thinking that. You would never do that to him. 

“I wish I could say that I’m surprised,” Nancy mumbles, throwing the note on the ground, “but I’m not.” 

Nancy isn’t blind and she isn’t stupid either, she always knew where his mind was at when he was with her, when he kissed her, when he touched her, when he slept with her. He was thinking about you, all the time. 

When she came over tonight, she didn’t expect to walk into an empty house or the mess that he had left in his room. She waited and waited and he didn’t come so she decided to keep herself busy. She began to clean his room, she organized his desk, dusted his furniture and put away his clean sweaters into the closet when she had found that box. Normally, she wouldn’t have opened it but curiosity got the best of her and now she feels relieved that she had done it, despite the sinking feeling in her stomach. 

Steve is calm, that’s something he had never been when he had gotten into fights with you. 

“Are you not gonna say anything?” 

Steve walks further into the room, he looks down at the things that belong to you, the things that he should’ve never put away in the first place. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Nancy.”

She tilts her head as she looks up at him, “you lied to me.” 

He nods. He lifts his hand and runs it through his hair. 

“Yeah, I did,” he admits, “I lied to you.” 

He lied when he said that he moved on from you. He lied when he told her that he loves her. He lied so many times and still, he tried to be good for her because he really wanted to try and be with her. 

“Do you love her?” She asks, already knowing the answer. 

Steve doesn’t even hesitate, he is done lying.  

“Yes.”

Hurt flashes in her eyes and he doesn’t even understand why – he is not the one that she wants. 

“Was it all just a lie then?” She asks, throwing her hands up. 

He shakes his head. No. It wasn’t all a lie, only his feelings, they were a lie, his love for her, that was a lie. 

He likes her, he always did. He liked spending time with her, he liked taking her out on dates, he liked studying with her and taking her to the movies afterwards but that’s all it was, he liked it. 

“No.” 

“God,” she breathes, “you’re so full of shit, Steve.” 

Her eyes that held pain and disbelief are now filled with anger and rage. 

“It wasn’t a lie?” She asks, stepping closer to him. 

As he looks down at her, he notices that he isn’t scared of what she is about to say. He isn’t scared that the relationship will be ruined after what words will spill from her mouth. He isn’t scared of what he will feel once she’s gone because, even when she leaves, his heart won’t be broken. 

No one can break his heart, no one but you. 

“No, I really liked you, Nancy.” 

She nods, her eyes widen and she purses her lips as she looks at him through her lashes- angrily. 

“Liked,” she says with such distaste in her voice. She takes a look around the messy room, she takes a look at the things on the ground, your things. “This is such bullshit.” 

Steve tenses up at her words, a cold shiver runs down his spine as he looks at her. 

“Why did you – why did we even get together?” 

He doesn’t know, he won’t be able to give her an answer, he doesn’t even have it himself. 

“Why did you leave her when you clearly still loved her?” She asks, raising her voice as she begins to pace around his room, kicking away the book that once belonged to you, one that he never gave back. “Why did you lie to me and say that you didn’t love her?”

He closes his eyes and clenches his jaw. 

“Why did you tell me that you love me when it was all bullshit?” Nancy asks and suddenly halts in her tracks when she realizes that she did just the same. She told him that she loved him when her heart was somewhere else. “You know what, this is all bullshit.” 

“Nance,” Steve mumbles as he opens his eyes. He looks down at the ground. He can’t stand to hear these words again, it will always take him back to the night in your room, when he had almost kissed you, when he told you that he still loves you. 

“No!” 

She turns around to face him, she points her finger at him. 

“Let’s not fight.” He raises his hands up, trying to get her to calm down. “I don’t–”

“This whole relationship was bullshit, Steve! W-We kept acting like we’re in love when we–”

“When we aren’t in love?” He asks calmly, eyeing her slumped shoulders and the defeat in her eyes when she realizes that there is no use to fight. 

She doesn’t want to admit it, still worried about hurting him when she knows that no one could hurt him, no one but you. She looks at him, she takes in the sight of him. He is calm, even after what he found out a few days back. 

Suddenly, Nancy feels like a hypocrite for doing this to him. For taking his room apart, for getting upset over your stuff in his closet, for confronting him like this, for yelling at him when she was the one who got caught kissing someone else – she got caught by him and unlike her, he didn’t get mad, he just accepted it and then acted like nothing happened. 

Just like you always did. 

“Where were you tonight?” 

He doesn’t know why she is asking him that, they both know that this is the end. 

“I was with y/n. Her birthday is tomorrow. We have always spent the night before together, ever since we were little kids.” 

She raises her brows and nods, still feeling bitter about it, despite everything. 

“And you?” He asks, tilting his head, “where have you been? I dropped by your house earlier tonight and you weren’t home. Where were you?” 

Once again, she breaks eye contact, too ashamed to give him the real answer. 

Steve can tell the truth now. She can’t. 

But he is done with this, with everything. 

He sighs and he walks closer to her. 

Nancy crosses her arms over her chest, she bites down on her lip nervously. 

She is struggling to tell him the truth but he wants her to know that it’s okay. 

“Nancy, look at me.” 

He takes her hand in his, ignoring the way it feels so wrong to hold hers after yours. 

“Please.”

She looks up at him. 

Blue eyes filled with guilt meet the warm hazel ones, the one filled with sadness but also with calmness. 

“I know what happened with you and Jonathan, back in december,” he mumbles, trying not to roll his eyes.

“Steve..”

“It’s okay, Nance,” he whispers, squeezing her hand, “it’s okay.” 

“You should be with him.” 

Her brows snap together, her lips part in surprise. She blinks, staring up at him with confusion in her eyes. 

“We’re not right for each other,” he whispers, “you love him and I love her – and I can’t be with her but you can be with him.” 

Her eyes soften and the tension slowly leaves her body. She still feels guilty, for more than one reason. 

“It’s enough if one of us is miserable,” Steve says, trying to crack a joke. 

The smile on her face is forced. 

“We both know that this isn’t working, Nance. We keep pretending, we keep lying to each other, we keep acting like we’re happy with each other when we’re not. This needs to stop.” 

Her eyes well up with tears but she agrees with him. 

“Yeah,” she whispers and slowly removes her hand from his. 

“So this is it?” She asks, lifting one shoulder as she gives him a look of uncertainty. 

“Yes,” he nods, “this is it.”

“Okay,” she whispers. 

Both of them felt it coming. It’s been tense between them for weeks now, ever since the night you had called him.

When he and Eddie went after Ray and he walked out of the fight with injuries, with bruises on his temple and his knuckles, he had to lie to her to avoid the truth. She didn’t believe him when he said that a few guys from the basketball team had attacked him so she kept pressing him for answers, she wanted the truth, the truth that she never got. 

To this day, she doesn’t know what really happened. 

That put another dent into their relationship. 

But her lies were so much bigger and crueler than his. 

Still, he tried. He took her out on more dates than usual but both of them forced their happiness, their love and even their smiles. It was all forced. 

A heavy sigh falls from her lips, she wipes away the tear that fell down her cheek. 

“I-I guess I’m gonna go.”

He nods. 

They both take one final look at each other. Both of them knew that this would happen but neither of them thought that it would happen this soon. 

“I’ll drive you home.”

She shakes her head, “I took my mom’s car, didn’t you see it in the driveway?” She asks. 

“Oh,” he scratches the back of his neck. He didn’t see it, he didn’t really notice anything, his mind was with you, “right.” 

“Yeah, uh.. I guess I’ll see you around?” 

“Yeah, see you around.” 

The moment she leaves and he hears the front door slamming, he feels like a heavy weight has been lifted off his shoulders but at the same time, he feels this grief inside of him because he knows that now, he is truly all alone. 

His parents are gone. 

Tommy is gone. 

You are gone. 

And now, she is gone too and there is no one he can distract himself with anymore.

He is all on his own now. 

He drops down on his bed and he looks at the mess in his room. He stares at your things. Something shiny that glistens beneath the light in his room catches his attention. He leans down to pick it up. It’s your hair pin, the one that you wore on your birthday last year. 

He feels the coil in his throat, the sickening feeling when he thinks about what happened when he came back to you after he left you all alone on your birthday. 

He drank at Tina’s party, he drank so much, he was miserable without you, he was angry at himself for the way he treated you, for the way he had been treating you for weeks prior to your birthday. 

He didn’t party, he didn’t dance, he didn’t laugh, he didn’t even spend time with Tommy. He only drank until the bitter taste of whiskey made him feel sick and long for you. Without saying goodbye to his friends, he left and walked across town to your place. 

It was 11pm by the time he got there, he sneaked into your room to find you in the same state as him. You were sitting on your floor with a half empty bottle of whiskey, you were crying and staring blankly at the TV screen. 

“You gotta stop leaving your window open,” he said, startling you. 

Your head snapped towards him, your glossy eyes widened and you instantly put the bottle down, you jumped up. 

You stood there and stared at him with tears rolling down your cheeks. 

“I-I always leave it open for you,” you said with a shaky voice.

It was his fault. 

He hurt you on your birthday and he came over to fix it but he only made it worse. 

He kissed you. He kissed you so deeply and passionately the way he had never usually done anymore. He took your clothes off and you helped him out of his, before you both made your way over to your bed. 

He kissed all over your face, he kissed your neck, your chest. 

He intertwined your fingers together. 

He praised you. 

He told you how much he loved you. 

He made love to you that night – it was soft, sweet and perfect. And he didn’t realize just how much it was hurting you that he was doing that while he was drunk, while you were both drunk. That he was showing you a vulnerable and loving side after all the alcohol he consumed. That he was giving you something that he never gave you while sober. 

He gave you everything in that moment and then, he took it all away again when he pushed you off of him after you tried to lay your head on his chest. He pushed you off and he didn’t bother to look at you, he didn’t bother to look at the shocked and hurt look in your eyes when he turned his back to you. 

He pushed your hand off when you tried to hug him once again. 

He pushed you away twice. 

“Steve,” you whispered with a shaky voice. He knew you were on the verge of tears, he knew you were about to cry. 

You touched his arm, softly, carefully. 

“Don’t.” Is all he said to you as he shrugged your hand off. 

He heard your sniffle and the rustling of the sheets as you pulled away from him. You turned away from him too and you waited, you waited until you thought that he had fallen asleep before you broke down again that night. 

You tried to be quiet but you couldn’t, you cried. 

You cried and he did nothing. He just laid there, blinking away his own tears as he looked out the window, asking himself why he couldn’t just hold you. He listened to you cry and he did nothing, not even when his mind was screaming at him to just turn around and pull you into his arms. 

When your sniffles died down and he was sure that you had cried yourself to sleep, he did something that he couldn’t do while you were still awake. 

He turned around and he wrapped his arm around you.

-

“Are you ever gonna tell me where you’re taking me?” 

Eddie shakes his head, flashing you a smile. 

“Nope.” 

You chuckle and lean back, you look out the window. 

Eddie doesn’t know what day it is and you feel relieved about it. You will forever continue to be dramatic about your birthday, you like to pretend that this day doesn’t exist – which is impossible considering your family and friends know about it. 

“Are you hungry?” Eddie asks, “cause I’m hungry.” 

You hesitate and Eddie narrows his eyes to look at you. You lean forward, turning the volume up when your favorite Metallica song comes on. He knows what you are trying to do.

“I ate earlier.” 

“Ah, what did you eat, sweetheart?” 

Birthday cake. Your mom made it. 

“Toast.”

“That’s all?” He gasps. 

“It’s only 6 in the evening!” 

“Yeah and you only had breakfast!” 

“I wasn’t hungry.”

“Y/n,” he sighs. 

“Eddie,” you sigh, giving him a sweet smile. 

A look of disapproval crosses his face, he shakes his head at you. 

“I’m gonna make you dinner.” 

You snort when you look out the window. You are far from the trailer park and from your house. He picked you up in the afternoon and took you to the movies the way he wanted to the night before. 

He didn’t ask what you did last night and he didn’t ask where you had gotten the necklace from, the one that is now around your neck. 

He knows everything without having to ask and you don’t even know that he is aware of things that you are trying to keep a secret. 

When Eddie pulls up to the quarry, you look at him in confusion, “uh the quarry?” You ask, “what are we doing here?” 

You’d hung out at Lovers Lake, Skull rock, Lake Jordan and even at the hidden lake in the woods but you had never come out here. 

As you look around, you wonder why you haven’t been here before. It’s quiet with no people around, it’s a beautiful spot to come out here whenever you need a moment to yourself. 

The sun is shining down on the blue water, it looks good enough to jump in but it’s still not warm enough to take a swim.  

“Well, it’s about time we find new hangout spots!” He says with a grin. He turns off the engine and it falls silent between the two of you when the music stops playing. 

“Ready to get high, sweetheart?” 

You chuckle, “yes.”

He gets out of the van and you follow suit. Smoothing down your dress, you reach for your jacket before you close the door. 

Eddie walks around the van, bowing down before you, he offers you his hand. 

Giggling, you shake your head as you place your hand in his. 

“Dork.” 

He gives you a proud smirk as he pulls you closer to him, he raises your hand towards his lips and places a kiss on your knuckles. 

“Your dork,” he winks. 

You can’t help but laugh, unaware of the blush on your cheeks. 

“Definitely a dork,” you giggle, “a cute dork.”

Eddie wraps his arm around your shoulder, “come on.” 

The confused look on your face makes him smile smugly. That smile should have been enough for you to know. 

You look around, there is nothing but rocks, trees and the huge lake in front of you. Not a single bench in sight, nothing to sit down on but the hard concrete floor, “are we not gonna smoke in the back of your van?” You ask, “where are we supposed to sit?” 

There is an innocent look on his face but his eyes are filled with mischief. 

Maybe he does know about your birthday. Maybe he is mad at you for keeping it a secret. Maybe he is gonna push you into the water for not telling him – that thought makes you want to laugh. Eddie would never do that. 

“You’re not gonna push me into the water are you?” You joke. 

You can’t help but smile at the sound of his laughter and at the way his eyes shine so beautifully when he looks down at you. His curls aren’t as messy as they usually are, he is wearing a new shirt and a new cologne. 

It makes your stomach flip – you don’t know why. 

“You smell good.”

“Oh yeah?” He smirks despite the pounding in his chest. 

You nod. 

“New cologne?” 

“Mhmm.” 

“I like it.”

“You do, huh?” 

“Yes,” you smile. 

The look in his eyes suddenly makes you nervous, you have to look down to avoid the fluttering in your stomach. 

He leads you down to the little bay, one that is surrounded by beautiful pine trees and a secret camping place. He smirks at the sight in front of him and glances down at you to see you still looking down at your shoes, just as you’re about to lift your head up, he grabs you and pulls you against him, holding both hands in front of your eyes. 

“Eddie?” You ask, chuckling. 

He leans his chin on your shoulder and pulls your hair back, “not gonna lie, I’m a little hurt you didn’t tell me.”

You frown, “w-what?”

“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” he whispers and removes his hands again to reveal his little surprise. 

Your eyes widen, your jaw drops as you look around in confusion and surprise. 

There is a campfire, logs surrounding it, a boombox perched on one of the tree trunks. Coolers and snacks, along with a birthday cake that Robin is holding up with a grin on her face. 

Your friends are here, well, most of them. 

Heather, Chrissy and Robin are standing next to each other looking at you in excitement. Gareth, Jeff and Grant are wearing party hats, the sight of them makes you giggle. 

“Surprise!” 

“Happy birthday!” 

“Oh my god, are you kidding?” You laugh, clapping your hands together. 

“Happy birthday!” Chrissy squeals, being the first to run towards you and pull you into a tight hug. “I’ve been waiting for this all day!” 

You wrap your arms around her, “thank you, Chris,” you giggle, closing your eyes as you hug her back just as tight. Heather joins the two of you, hugging you from behind, she kisses your cheek. 

“Happy birthday, babe,” she grins as though she hasn’t been the first to call this morning, pulling you out of your deep slumber. 

“Can I join you girls?” Gareth asks, wiggling his brows at Heather who flips him off. 

“No boys in a girls group hug,” Chrissy says to him. 

“I can’t wait to give you my present, y/n!” Jeff grins as he is the next to hug you. 

“What did you get her, Jeff?” Gareth asks, “a poster of Eddie?” 

Grant bursts into laughter and so does Gareth, proud of his own joke. 

Eddie rolls his eyes with a blush on his cheeks. 

“C’mere, birthday girl!” Robin says to you, stealing you from Jeff, she kisses your cheek, “I can’t believe you thought that you could keep this from us!” 

“I can’t believe you guys are throwing a party for me,” you say, blushing. 

“That was Eddie’s idea,” she smiles, winking at you. 

Huffing, you turn away from her to hide the flustered look on your face. Eddie stands there with a smile, watching you interact with your friends before your attention strays back to him and your soft eyes lock with his. 

“Let’s party, guys!” Gareth claps his hands together, walking away from the group. 

Grant walks over to the boom box to put on some music. Jeff gives Eddie a sheepish smile, “I’ll get the drinks.”

“I’ll help!” Heather says, following him. 

That only leaves Robin and Chrissy who are still looking between you and Eddie before they look at one another. Robin smiles down at the blonde, “wanna help?” She asks, wanting to give the two of you some privacy. 

Chrissy’s brows furrow, she stares up at the tall girl. 

“With the drinks, I-I mean,” Robin mumbles. 

“Oh!” Chrissy giggles, “yeah, let’s go.” 

You and Eddie don’t notice the two blushing girls, you are too busy looking at each other.

“How did you know that it’s my birthday?” 

“I asked your mom,” he responds, quirking a brow as he looks up at the sky, “like, back in december.” 

Your eyes soften. 

He asked your mom about your birthday?

“Eddie,” you whisper, unable to stop yourself from throwing your arms around him. You lay your head on his warm chest, “you are the sweetest.”

His chest rumbles as he laughs at your words, hugging you tightly. 

“That title belongs to you.” 

“You didn’t have to do all this,” you mumble into his chest, “not for me.”

Eddie frowns at your words and he squeezes your arms. There is nothing that he wouldn’t do for you. 

“Sweetheart, you’re the only one I’d do this for,” he whispers before he places a kiss on the top of your head. 

You lift your head up and you look into his eyes with a smile, “thank you, Eddie.”

“You’re welcome.” He tucks a loose strand behind your ear. “I got something for you.”

“More?” You ask surprised. 

He chuckles, “yeah, come on,” he whispers. 

You follow him without question, letting him lead you down to the water for a little more privacy. 

The sound of music fills the air, drowning out the voice of the crickets and your friends chatter.

“You’re spoiling me today,” you giggle. 

“Gotta spoil my best friend,” he winks at you before he takes both of your hands and turns you around so you’re both facing each other again. “I got a feeling that your friends won’t let me have a moment with you alone so,” he pauses as he lets go of one of your hands, he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a little bag, one that is in colorful wrapping paper, “you’re getting this now.”

“Another birthday present?” 

“Of course,” he chuckles, “I’ve only been waiting for months to give it to you,” he says dramatically with an eyeroll. 

“Months?” You gasp. 

“Yeah, months!” 

You giggle, looking down at the little present in your hands. You unwrap it quickly and eagerly. 

Eddie laughs but watches you in anticipation. 

You scrunch up the wrapping paper and push it into his hands, making him laugh again. He stuffs it back inside of his leather jacket. 

You open the bag and gasp, “oh my god!” You squeal, jumping in excitement, “no way, Eddie!” 

You reach for the ring. The skull ring that you have seen in the window at the Gothic shop that you passed by when you spent a weekend in Indianapolis, back in February. 

“Where’s the other one?” You ask, knowing that it’s a set. 

He grins at you, motioning you to put the ring on your finger before he picks the matching one out of his pocket, showing it to you. “I’ve been waiting to finally wear it!” 

“Put it on!” 

He chuckles at your excitement, unable to fight the grin off of his face, he puts the ring on his finger and holds his hand out to you. 

“We’re matching!” You smile as you eye the ring on yours and his finger, “I love it so much, Eddie!” 

“That makes me happy, sweetheart.” 

He might not be able to give you expensive lockets or bracelets but, he still gets to make you smile and that is enough, for now. 

You cup his cheeks and stand on your tiptoes to give him a kiss on his cheek. 

His cheeks heat up at the feeling of your lips on his skin. 

“Thank you,” you whisper again. 

He can’t help but place a kiss on your cheek as well, making you giggle again. Neither of you notice the flash of the camera going off.

You are happy, you are smiling and this is all he wanted to see. He wanted to see you happy, especially tonight. After all your horrible birthdays, he wanted to give you one that you can look back on and smile instead of thinking of it with a heavy feeling in your chest. 

So he tries to make it as memorable as possible so it may be able to put a shadow over all the bad ones that you have had. 

And the night is perfect, this birthday is perfect. 

You laugh with your friends, you share a joint and you get tipsy from all the mixed drinks. You make s’mores and listen to your favorite songs. 

You unwrap the presents your friends had gotten you – including Dustin’s present who wasn’t allowed to this party. He of course got you a Hellfire shirt, the very persistent boy has been trying to get you to join their club for months now. 

And when it’s time for your cake, you can’t help but giggle when the guys sing out of chorus. 

“Who made this cake?” You ask after blowing out the candles. 

“Uh, the store!” Robin says, sheepishly as she gives you a crooked grin. 

“I tried baking one myself,” Eddie says next to you, “I almost ended up without a home.” 

“Wait what?” You ask, laughing but holding your hand to your chest, giving him a pout. He even tried to bake a cake for you. 

“I’m surprised you had a fire extinguisher at your place,” Robin jokes. 

Eddie clutches his chest, giving her a glare, “I’m insulted, Buckley.”

“You could live with me,” you giggle, leaning your head on his shoulder. 

He looks down at you with a smile while everyone else shares a look. 

Chrissy, who has a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, looks at Robin, who sits back down next to Gareth. Feeling eyes on her, she lifts her head to catch the pretty cheerleader staring at her. 

It’s dark out and the only light surrounding the group is the campfire. That is enough to make the red cheeks very visible, on both girls. 

Jeff glances at the matching rings on yours and Eddie’s hands.

“Nice rings, why didn’t you invite us to the wedding?” He asks, wiggling his brows at the two of you. 

“Did the invitation get lost in the mail?” Eddie chuckles, “sorry about that.” 

Gareth gasps, clutching his beer tightly to his chest, “you’re not pregnant with a Munson baby, are you y/n?” He smirks. 

You put your hand on your stomach, “oh yes, I’m having quadruplets!” 

“Oh my god, y/n!” Heather snorts, “stop joking about it or you’re actually getting them someday!” 

Eddie wraps his arm around your shoulder, “yeah so? We’re having our own band, the new Corroded Coffin.”

“No!” Grant almost yells. 

You and Eddie laugh at his sudden outburst. 

Chrissy and Robin fade out the conversation around them, their eyes are locked and the only sounds they hear is the crackling of the fire and their pounding hearts. 

As they are unable to keep their eyes off of each other, you and Eddie are unable to move away from one another. 

He puts a blanket around you when the night gets colder and you still scoot closer to him, reaching for his hand in search of more warmth and when he kisses the top of your head, a new pair of eyes catches sight of you with him.  

Steve didn’t plan to show up at your party. 

Despite how well things had gone between the two of you the night before, he still didn’t want to intrude, knowing that he isn’t welcome here. 

But he wanted to see you, even if just from afar, he wanted to see you and make sure that you are having a nice time, that you are having a better birthday, a better night than you have had in the year before. 

So, he showed up at your party. 

But he did not expect to see you in Eddie’s arms – not like this. 

He sees you smile and even though it breaks his heart to see you with him, he can walk away with a calm feeling in his chest because he gets to know that this night won't end for you in tears this time.

But for him, it does. 

next chapter

-

tagging friends & mutuals!

@mysticmunson @taintedcigs @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @screammunson @take-everything-you-can @trashmouth-richie @xxhellfiregirlxx @nemesis729 @somethingvicked @sherrylyn628 @chrissymjstan

[heartschampion]

september 30th — ethan landry

PAIRING. ethan landry x fem!reader

SUMMARY. in which you make a bet with your boyfriend, ethan, the night before the start of october. thirty-one days of sex.

CONTENT. no ghostface!au, ethan bailey is canon!!, established relationship, fluff, bantering, a little suggestive, no smut, basically a prologue chapter, no beta, not proofread.

WORD COUNT. 1.9k

previous. masterlist. next.

11:49 PM. 

It’s times like this where I find myself thinking — really thinking — deeper into life and its meaning. The closer I look, the more I start to realize how glorified life is. I follow the same routine day-in and day-out. Wake up, get ready, go to class, go home, and get ready for the same thing tomorrow. It’s like the only time I get to have a reprise is in moments late into the night, all snuggled up and ready to sleep. A sliver of freedom in a meticulously bland and boring way of life.

Not to be melodramatic or anything. Ethan often told me I have a knack for that.

The blinding light of my laptop screen hits my retinas with a harsh glare despite having set the brightness to its dimmest setting. Still, beggars can’t be choosers, so I tough it out. I scroll aimlessly through my Tumblr dashboard, skimming past posts until one catches my attention just enough for me to stop and actually read.

‘Mattheo Riddle x Reader, Niccolo Govender x Reader, Jack Ch—’

“Ugh,” a small groan sounds from beside me on the bed. With a quirk of a smile, I glance beside me at my boyfriend, Ethan Bailey, who is laid there in all his glory. He has his arm draped over his eyes, covering them from the light emitting from my laptop. For a split second, I feel bad for disturbing his sleep. Ethan lets out another groan before throwing his arm off to the side, his eyes flickering over to my figure. “Angel, can we please go to bed?”

I sigh as I hear the pleading tone of his voice and shoot him an apologetic look.

“Just a few more minutes, Eth. Promise.”

Ethan simply gives me a blank stare, not believing my words for a second. He rolls over onto his side, now fully facing me with a sulky little pout on his lips. As cute as he is, I can’t fall for his tricks and forget about the task I had assigned myself. Ethan raises his head from the pillow, craning his neck to peek at my screen. Curious, he asks, “What are you doing anyways?”

A soft smile crosses my face at his question, both amused by the innocence behind it and touched by his curiosity. I reach over to pet his messed up curls, a habit that I had developed ever since the two of us moved in together for the new semester. Immediately, Ethan melts into my touch, visibly relaxing at the contact shared between the two of us.

“Just waiting for all the October context to start being posted.”

“Why October specifically?” He asks while furrowing his brows in confusion, completely and blissfully unaware of what I was talking about at all. It was kind of cute that he didn’t know, especially considering Richie of all people ran an active and thriving blog. It was literally the worst kept secret ever. Even Quinn knew. “Something special happening?”

“Mmm, something like that…” I giggle, causing Ethan to raise his furrowed brow at me in question. Unable to keep a straight face at the overly serious expression that he’s giving me, I burst out in laughter, deciding to finally enlighten him to the world of Kinktober. After a few moments, I calm myself down, taking a few deep breaths, letting out some final snickers. On the flip side, Ethan just stares at me blankly, unamused. With a roll of my eyes, I softly scratch at his scalp, confessing the ‘dirty secret’ I had been keeping for so long. “It’s Kinktober. Y’know, when writers just shit out a bunch of written porn?”

“Kink…tober?” Ethan repeats back, his expression contorting into one of confusion. He repeats the word a few more times, looking deep in contemplation while processing the information I had just dumped on him. Without even trying to hide it, I coo at him like an owner would at their pet. Blinking, he deadpans, “So you’re up at midnight just to read porn?”

“Smut.”

“Right. Smut.” He corrects himself, but not without a dramatic show of rolling his eyes in faux annoyance. It’s now my turn to roll my eyes, removing my hand from his hair and flicking his forehead in retaliation. Immediately, Ethan swats my hand away from anywhere near his face and rubs his forehead, grumbling to himself as he gives me a proper stinkeye. In return, I simply give him a cheeky smile and stick out my tongue, albeit a bit childishly.

It doesn’t take much long though until he forgets about the whole ordeal and goes back to the topic at hand. He clicks his tongue, eyes brightening with an idea that I know could be no good and smirks at me. With a lazy drawl, he asks smugly, “Why read about sex when you have me?”

Not expecting that of all things to come out of his mouth, I’m taken by surprise. A snort escapes my lips at the suggestive implication in his words. Placing my laptop beside me, I prop myself up on my elbow and lean down to Ethan, squinting at him. “What’re you trying to say, Bailey?”

Like a predator stalking his prey, he gazes up at me, a tinge of seduction behind those innocent looking brown eyes. He eyes me with temptation, luring me in before he can swallow me whole. His larger hand stalks around my hip, caressing at my skin as he travels across its smooth surface. Suddenly, I’m pulled in, now on top of him and straddling his hips where I can feel him start to harden.

“There’s no way some dumb words could ever be better than…me.”

He’s right and we both know it, but a bigger part of me wants to challenge him on that. Maybe it’s his cockiness in his tone, or the fact that his growing boner is directly pressing against my clothed core as he grinds his hips. Either way, I raise my eyebrow, looking down at him from above. “Really, huh? Big words coming from someone who came within the first three minutes last time.”

At the reminder of the last time we had sex, his eyes widened and his face flushed in embarrassment. “That was an accident!” He vehemently exclaims, defending himself for his early ejaculation. 

If I were to be completely honest, I was kind of turned on from how easily he came from just being inside of me, not even fully engulfed. The idea was lewder than the circumstances surrounding it, but the prospect of him almost coming inside of me — Even though we were protected — was as enticing as it was terrifying.

“Besides, you know how good I can make you feel.” Ethan then attempts to wink, his eyelids not cooperating, leading to him blinking instead. Realizing that he messed up his attempt to be smooth, he shakes his head and instead smiles sheepishly.

I giggle at his silliness, brushing aside the curls near his eyes with a level of fondness I once never would have known to exist. He really was perfect for me. Pinching his cheeks, I keep poking at him and his cocky attitude. “You think you can keep up?”

“Babe, I know I can.” He states as confident as ever, a smirk playing on his face. Without another word, he starts to run his hands up my thighs, my skin prickling up at his electric touch. Reaching my hips, he starts to rub circles around my hip dips, fondling my inner thighs. I let out a deep sigh, both relaxing at his intimate touch, and tensing as his boner pokes into me. Unable to help myself, I grind my pulsating core against him, satisfying the need.

“So cute...”

I whine at his words, embarrassed at just how badly I needed him at this moment. He was the one who started it in the first place, yet I was the one here left to look like a mess instead of him. It was unfair. Continuing to grind against him, he suddenly stops his movements. I hiss out, “Eth, you annoying fuck…”

Out of nowhere, he flips the two of us around, the lower half of his body pressed against me as he looks down on me. I’m caged in his arms, each one placed beside me, trapping me as his prisoner. Ethan cocks his head to the side, an innocent look on his face. He speaks in a sickeningly sweet voice, “What’s the matter, angel?”

“You know what’s wrong.”

“Do I?” He asks, pretending to think about it.

“Eth!” I hiss, squirming underneath him. He’s so close, the only thing separating us being the clothes we have on. Never have I ever wanted to not have any on more than I do right now. I needed to feel him, all of him. Not just his warmth, but skin against skin to truly prove that he was right there with me.

Ethan lets out a chuckle, grinning at how needy I was being. I bet he really got off on that, huh? Knowing that he was in control, having me wrapped around his finger. Fuck, I needed him in me whether it was his fingers or his dick. He clicks his tongue, shaking his head at me like he was reprimanding me. “Thirty-one days, angel. You can wait a few hours.”

Just like that, Ethan shifts off of me and back to his side of the bed with a satisfied smile on his face. The sudden switch from before to now was jarring and it took me a few moments before I completely processed what just happened. I scoff, propping myself up on my elbows and looking over at him.

“Are you serious?” “Super.” The pain in the ass called my boyfriend responds, closing his eyes, ready to fall asleep.

“You’re literally cockblocking yourself!” I sputter out in disbelief. Ethan Bailey, the boy who couldn’t keep his hands off of me. The same boy who literally cried the first time we had sex — I did too. The same boy who was now laying in our bed with a rock-hard boner, yet doing nothing about it when he had the more than eager opportunity to. What a fucking idiot.

“Mmm,” he hummed, thinking over his words carefully. “I can handle it.”

I let out an overdramatic huff as I collapsed onto the bed. Looking over, I peer at Ethan’s ‘sleeping’ face. A few moments passed of me just staring at him with a blank expression before he opened one eye and looked at me with a questioning expression. “Can’t sleep, love?”

“Don’t even.” I warned, glaring at him and his feigned nonchalance.

He chuckles, and I can feel him shift in the bed. Soon, arms wrap around me and pull me into a tight embrace. My face is gently placed against Ethan’s nape where I often laid on nights like this. Without a word, I wrap my arms and legs around him like a koala with a tree, seeking any contact with him. I bury my face into his nape, taking in his cinnamon scent.

“Sorry.” Despite his words, Ethan lets out another chuckle, the vibrations of it throughout his body a soothing feeling against my tense body.

I grumble, “You’re not sorry.”

He huffs in amusement at my sulkiness, petting my hair. Pecks and kisses litter my face in a frenzy as a way of him trying to make me feel better. To his credit, it does work despite my attempts to not let it. How could I ever resist his kisses? Peering down at me, Ethan smiles softly before kissing my lips. Cinnamon chapstick and lemonade citrus.

“Happy…uh…Kinktober, angel.”

[tossawary]

You know, the more I think about it, the funnier I find the concept of Monkey D. Luffy /& Boa Hancock (especially paired with Aro-Ace spectrum Luffy and Aro-Ace spectrum Hancock) just for what it must look like from an outsider's POV.

For the record, personally, my favorite Luffy ship is Zoro/Luffy - also with Aro-Ace spectrum Luffy, that's basically non-negotiable for me, I don't care whether he's sex-favorable or sex-repulsed, but he's definitely ace. It is so funny to me to think about Luffy's incredible pull with aro-ace spectrum folks. People who once thought "sucks for you fuckers obsessed with sex and/or romance, I'm built different" (Roronoa Zoro, Koby, Trafalgar Law, Boa Hancock, Bartolomeo, etc.) find themselves fascinated by this little rubber man, who regularly declares war on the government and can swallow a roast chicken whole. Some of them are happier about this than others. Some of them WISH they just wanted to fuck or marry him, that would make more sense than this shit.

But, okay, back to Luffy and Hancock (as a friendship or queerplatonic situationship, whatever, doesn't matter). Like, let's pretend this is some kind of Modern College AU (Luffy is probably not IN college, tbh, he's just there to hang out with his friends and for any food anyone makes the mistake of leaving out). You are on your way to class and you see this woman walking down the street and she is - hands down - the Most Beautiful Woman In The World.

Super tall, with incredibly long, muscular legs in shockingly high red heels, a short skirt, artful cleavage, a waterfall of sleek black hair, beautiful face, striking makeup, gorgeous jewelry. Looks too old to be an undergrad student. She looks like if a martial artist became a supermodel. Walks like that too. The phrase "please step on me" comes to mind, but not to the lips, because that's sexual harassment, and also this woman looks like she could stab you through the heart with a kick and her shoe heel, killing you instantly.

She sees someone and her entire face lights up. She runs forward (how is she running in those shoes) squealing in excitement and embraces this guy you didn't even notice before, shouting about how much she missed him, and kisses him on the lips. He is... uh... three-quarters of her height at the tallest. A real Mr. Short King.

Wow, he has a babyface. And a scar on his cheek and on his chest, which you can see because he's wearing an open button-up, in eye-searing rainbow colors and decorated with monkeys, and jorts with fur at the cuffs. And mismatched flip-flops on the wrong feet. And a straw hat on a string around his neck. It looks like he hasn't brushed his hair today. It is impossible to judge his looks because his outfit is too distracting. Now the Most Beautiful Woman in the World is blushing bright pink as she clasps one of his hands in both of hers. Mr. Short King is using his other hand to pick his nose as she talks.

They walk hand in hand together over to where an incredibly expensive-looking bright red car is parked. Mr. Short King opens the driver's door for the Most Beautiful Woman and she apparently nearly swoons at this chivalry. She climbs into the driver's seat and he gets into the passenger's side (Luffy cannot legally drive and also cannot actually drive). They drive off together. What the fuck kind of Roger-and-Jessica-Rabbit-ass Sugar Mama relationship did you just witness?

Boa Hancock keeps a photograph of Luffy as her phone background and also on her desk at work. Everyone is always like, "Is that your... son?" And Hancock is like, "No, that's my number one choice of future fiancé! Isn't he sooooo handsome?" And people can only be like, "...Okay, but why are there police lights in the background? And something is on fire? It kind of looks like he's in the process of being arrested..." And Hancock responds dreamily, "They didn't catch him! He climbed into my exercise duffel bag and I carried him out."

[regretsofaghost]

I Couldn't Give What It Cost Me

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58929406

Who would have thought following Casper High’s lab safety protocols would leave him in the same place as if he followed his parents’, just infinitely more spooky looking?

Hell, Danny had even pulled out the worn piece of paper from their first class, the one that listed all the PPE needed to deal with a high school level of science and beyond! Sure, the tidbits about the different levels of HAZMAT suits were probably just fun facts, but his parents never fought him or Jazz on wearing their HAZMAT suits in the lab, nevermind the gas masks and goggles. If his parents’ research had any chance of radiation or burning them, he was wearing the PPE.

Sam and Tucker complained about the stiff suits, brightly coloured and stiff, all too large as they were back ups for Danny’s mom and dad. When Danny had pulled out his own, he was on some level happy that his white one was nearly the proper size, if still too large. It was always better safe than sorry in his parents’ lab, one too many chemical burns from unknown substances proved that.

“Y’know Danny, we could totally take these and trick or treat in them, they’re just creepy enough that we can pass as Pestilence, a horsemen of the apocalypse,” Sam said, voice muffled as she adjusted her mask.

“Oh, for sure, just after we explain why Pestilence is wearing a bright orange HAZMAT suit,” Danny pulled on his gas mask, breathing slowly as he got used to the odd, wheezing sound. He looked around the lab, huffing, “man, dad must’ve updated my suit without telling me. I think he added a welding shield on it, I can’t see anything.”

“Oh, don’t worry Danny, it makes you look spookier, especially with the white suit!” Sam smiled, though Danny couldn’t see it. “How about you keep your mask off till we get to the portal, then put it on when we get the picture?”

“Wait, we’re getting a picture?”

It was pointless to argue, so after getting to the portal and showing the waste of space off, and after a lot of directing, both Sam and Tucker annoyed at the small steps Danny took inside the portal, he was ready. He didn’t go too far into the tunnel, he kept mostly in the middle, he even smiled for Sam’s picture, decked out in his full suit, completely safe.

It wasn’t enough.

There was an unexpected jolt of electricity, sparks falling from the top of the tunnel that was the portal, and well, Danny couldn’t really see anything, so the sudden light was a surprise. It started him, and no one really ever talked about how hard it was to move gracefully in a full HAZMAT suit, especially one that was a size or two too big. He stumbled back, and wires that littered the floor tripped him. Danny’s hand fell against the wall as he tried to catch himself, tried to not fall onto the floor and embarrass himself, he couldn’t see the bright buttons that said ON and OFF, inside of the portal.

It was just pain after that.

Pain that flooded him so completely, overwhelming every sense until all he knew as pain. Bright, shocking, both burning and freezing, it was overwhelming all his senses, but it wouldn’t stop.

Sam and Tucker said it was a haunting sight when he stepped out of the portal.

Neither told him of how long they stood frozen, just listening to their friend’s death throes.

Being Phantom was easy. It was easier than it should have been.

He struggled yes, he phased through silverware when he was, alive, breathing, human, he wasn’t allowed anywhere near the beakers in chemistry anymore, his parents’ machines all homed in on him when he stepped through the front door. That was all part of his new, life, unlife, death? Not death. Scrodinger’s cat, a box unopened, was he dead or alive?

Fighting ghosts was easy, fun even.

Danny, Phantom, got pummeled often. He threw shitty punches and was hit with thousands of pounds worth of force back, he struggled with his powers, new ones appearing everyday. The Lunch Lady was hard, at first. Skulker, Technus, Plasmius, Box Ghost, Spectra, Ghostwriter, all of them. They were all hard to beat, at first. They all treated Danny, Phantom, like he was an adult, that he should be able to withstand them, should be able to survive their attacks, and he proved that he could. It was the first time in years that it felt like he could try his best, and that he could, and would, succeed. The ghosts pouring through his parents’ portal saw Danny, saw Phantom, and sometimes, it seemed like they were expecting his best too. They saw something more than a Fenton Freak, a boy who dreamed of the starts that were always going to stay out of reach.

People feared him, but they saw him.

They saw his ghostly form, the pitch black HAZMAT suit that he wore to death, the gas mask covering his face completely, the hood that covered his hair. Phantom looked like a harbinger of doom, a horseman of the apocalypse, something solely and completely otherworldly.

The threats got bigger and bigger, the stakes climbing as Danny, as Phantom, was the only person, the only thing, standing between the ghosts of the realm his parents opened, and the small town of Amity Park. As the GIW showed up, as mom and dad became more and more obsessed with Phantom, everything pouring and spilling on top of one another.

Something was bound to break.

Of course they captured him.

Of course they let him go.

Of course, they left the mask on until they had already cut him open, until after they had removed his organs, taken samples of his skin, broken bones and stole them.

Maybe they wanted to save his brain for last.

Maybe they thought if they touched his brain, he would dissolve like the others before him.

The Fentons never did understand cores.

Maybe, the fear in their eyes was more for what they had done than what they had seen under Danny’s mask.

He wouldn’t know, he never looked.

He didn’t want to see what death left under his mask.

Sam, Tucker, Jazz, they all knew. They respected his death enough to not describe it to him.

Maybe what laid underneath would be what sent him over the edge.

Mom and Dad, Maddie and Jack, the Fentons, they let him go, somehow. They helped him hide his trail from the GIW, somehow, and with help from Sam and Tuck, he made it to Gotham. From there it was up to him, with the equipment his parents, the Fentons, shoved into a duffle bag, and cash that Sam had been saving for him. It had to be enough to make a new life.

Now, Danny just had to deal with the ghosts and nightmares.

It was mostly wishful thinking that he could put Phantom in the past.

It was mostly wishful thinking that Gotham was going to be fine with its knights of the night.

It was mostly wishful thinking that he wouldn’t have to deal with the Bats.

A mysterious new meta who seemed to only target ghosts? That same mysterious new meta suddenly, without provocation, killing a new rogue?

What can Danny, what can Phantom, say. He really, really, hated Freakshow. That tended to happen when you mind control someone, especially when you made that person kidnap a Robin and threaten to have him walk a tightrope, one that was bound to break if it was anything like last time.

Danny was struggling. He knew, logically, that he should just go with the Bats, to explain why he did what he did, they were probably used to people blaming mind control for their actions, they had to know when someone wasn’t lying.

Right?

Danny couldn’t take the risk. Couldn’t chance them leading the GIW right to him while his guard was down. They were already sniffing around Gotham, he just.

He couldn’t.

Danny watched in horror as Batman’s gas mask was cracked, as the Dark Knight threw the person off, only in appearances trying to walk off the powerful punch.

Danny knew better.

He could tell Batman was holding his breath as he felt along his utility belt for something, anything, to filter the fear gas that was being pumped onto the street.

He knew he would find nothing.

If you asked Danny afterwards, he didn’t know why he went ghost, why he walked up to Batman, the very person Danny had been dodging for months now, and removed the ghostly gas mask from his face. He tried not to look at Batman’s face when he shoved it over his cowl, unsure how the fear gas will work on him.

Was it best used as an aerosol, breathed in and absorbed through the lungs? It had to work through mucous channels, maybe just less effectively through the eyes and mouth? It didn’t matter, Danny was dead, alive, Scrodinger’s cat, he could stop his breathing for minutes on end but eventually he had to take a breath, and that mattered less if the gas worked through mucus channels.

“Take it, don’t argue,” Danny said, surprised at how, normal, his voice sounded. He hadn’t thought about how he never really spoke when his mask was off, how it betrayed how young he was. Only just under fifteen, so close to his anniversary.

He couldn’t see any part of Batman’s face, the upper half covered further by the cowl and the visor on his gas mask, the lower now covered by the gas mask’s main components.

“Do you know if the gas works through mucous channels?” He asked, trying to maintain eye contact with the older man, unsure if he is even succeeding. Batman has never been known to be chatty, but this is concerning, not even a grunt in response.

“How old are you?” His voice was muffled by the gas mask, maybe it was a good thing, Danny was pretty positive that Batman wasn’t putting on the deeper voice he usually did.

“Doesn’t matter, I’m dead, not dead. Ughhh, think of Scrodinger’s cat, both dead and alive till you open up the box,” he never wanted to open the box, if he is completely honest, “Keep the gas mask on, don’t know how long it took me to get it to stop being in welding mode and don’t want to know,” keep talking, distract, “does fear gas work through mucous membranes? Do I have to keep my mouth shut, eyes closed?”

It was pointless, somehow, he broke Batman. Danny could hear the Scarecrow laughing somewhere in the distance, people screaming in fear, people fighting against things only they could see and understand.

Danny froze as he caught sight of white suits, teal and orange HAZMATs, through the crowd.

He took a deep breath.

Phantom had already lived his worst nightmare.

[jealousjersey]

𐙚₊˚⊹♡”fuck you”⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

ᯓ★ tags : gn!soft!dom!reader x sub!clapton davis. requested by anon.

ᯓ★ enemies to lovers (been wanting to write one of these for so long. tysm anon for bringing me back, i am so unmotivated rn)

ᯓ★ mentions : soft-dom reader x sub clapton davis, edging, degrading kink, vulgar language, unprotected sex, cream pies, both reader and clapton are of age. keep it 18+ guys, porn with plot, mostly just jersey horny rambling

everything is doing well in your last period AP biology class, except one thing. your lab partner is clapton davis. the one person in this school you don’t get along with. he annoys you and teases you whenever he can, honestly you don’t even know how he got into honors classes, you weren’t even sure he was going to college, but that’s none of your business right now.

“hey loser” clapton sits beside you and smacks his gum in his mouth. you hate when he does that, or anything really. “do you have any idea what we’re doing? i’ve been confused this entire time” he says genuinely. for the first time in his life he actually wants to ask for help.

“uh yeah, we’re just supposed to research stem cell differentiations. it’s easy don’t worry we can get this done in like 20 minutes” you say confidently. you actually have no idea how to go about this project but honestly it doesn’t matter.

“oh, okay. are we gonna do the project at my house or yours?” he asks, almost nervous to ask.

“mine is fine” you say as his face turns a light shade of pink from the invitation. he quickly hides his face, and especially the blush creeping up on his cheeks.

“you know, you’re pretty cute when you’re quiet” you tease. obviously trying to get under his skin.

“s-shut up. just shut up” he sutters, the pink still on his cheeks. this makes you giggle, seeing how he just melts when you take charge, when over something as simple as directing a project.

after the bell rings, you get out of your chair and pack your things up, clapton frantically says “hey, wait up-”

you take your earbud out and reply with a simple “hm?”

“am i riding with you- or-?” he asks, almost unsure about the situation.

“yeah, you can ride with me. just- wipe your shoes before you get in my car” you say as you lead him out to the parking lot to your forest green dodge charger srt. he’s almost in awe of your car. he now knows why you asked that of him.

as you two ride to his house, you notice something. is he fucking hard right now? you think as your eyes gaze at his bulge in his pants. you let out a small chuckle on accident.

“what?” clapton asks, repositioning himself to where his package isn’t on full display. he now knows you know, and god is he embarrassed. his cheeks are bright red as his leg bounces up and down

“you- you got something in your pants clapton” you laugh. obviously teasing him at this point.

“just- just drive, okay?” he says, face pink as a beam of sweat falls from his forehead. god he’s cute when he’s nervous.

as you both arrive at your house, he goes inside with his bookbag on. you lead him to your room, a minimalist decorated with colorful art on the walls. your room looks like a museum, well it a museum had a tv and a cd player- but nonetheless, your room was nice and clapton liked it. he especially liked the vanilla scent in your house.

“so- let’s address it, why did you get all hot and bothered in my car?” you mention, and it’s obvious now. he’s blushing like crazy, just like a little sub. it’s really adorable actually, but you just want to see how far you can take this.

he doesn’t respond, but his bulge is back. and you just have to take care of this, before any work can get done. “you want some help?” you offer as you smile teasingly. he just nods his head up and down acceptingly, he needed this, especially after you teasing him almost made him cum in his pants.

you unbuckle his jeans and he whimpers at the touch of you. god he was such a little bottom for you, just putty in your hands. as you get his pants off, you notice the precum leaking through his boxers and you immediately get turned on by the sight. you imagine the taste of his cum and how his dick would feel twitching inside of you.

you take his throbbing dick out of his boxers, he’s average but girthy. the tip is bright pink, soaked in precum. as you hold his cock on your hands you rub your thumb over his slit. he twitches instantly. “fuck, please- please fuck me” he whimpers. you smile at the sound of his groans for you. “you gonna be a good boy? gonna listen to me and do what i say?” you ask.

“fuck…yes i’ll be a good boy….just for you.” he says as he bucks his hips into your hands. you smile at his response, just what you wanted to hear. you sit on his cock and bouncing up and down, overstimulating him as his jaw goes slack as he moans softly “fuck…fuck yes…god you feel s’good” his eyes roll back in his head as his dick twitches inside you

“fuck, fuck- i’m- gon- gonna cum” he stammers. “cum inside, you’ve been a good boy.” you reply.

he shoots hot thick lines of cum inside you, filling you up. he’s so far inside you that there’s not even a chance of him for you to leak out. he basically bred you, but god it felt so good.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀