#at least three little guys in residence here | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

belokhvostikova · 1 year ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐎𝐮𝐭

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | Your secret fling with Eddie Munson hadn't gone entirely under wraps, particularly to the know-it-all, Dustin Henderson. With the help of Robin and Steve, the three conspire to reveal the truth, resulting in two of the most awkward people going on a date together...

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, slight crying, alcohol consumption, awkwardness, insecurities, closeted sexuality, implied coming out, secret relationship, and some explicit sexual content: fondling, mention of porn, mention of oral, and unprotected vaginal sex (fairly minor, not the focal point).

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | This piece has literally been sitting in my Google Docs since June 26th, because when rewatching Friends, I though it would be a cute idea for a fic, so you'll see a lot of lines and parallels from the episode (season 5, episode 14). It's devastatingly unfortunate Matthew Perry passed when I was finishing this up. So, in memory of him and a toast to friendship, here is this fic. Be safe, appreciate life, and enjoy <3 I love you all.

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

“Did you guys see that?!” A pointed finger of accusation was targeted against Eddie Munson, completely oblivious to his knowledge.

Steve Harrington had grimaced at the mush that was once a solid cheeseburger residing inside the slobbery mouth of Dustin Henderson, as the kid spoke with such urgency, clearly unperturbed by his lack of food etiquette and social decorum. But such skills could not be expected much from Dustin Henderson. That is unless, of course, an actual adult of authority had been in the presence, to which a gummy smile was expected to assuage whatever insulting comment about the need for manners that “The Hair” would proffer in disgust.

It was the second Saturday in a row that Steve’s been bombarded by the abuse of the children to let his residence be used for a pool party. He doesn’t understand how exactly he lost the backbone to say no to four teenagers, but the phenomenon had manifested into reality, and at the very least, a compromise was made for the young adults—of whatever weird mesh of a friend group this was between older teens, younger teens, crossover shebang—to tag along for a hot afternoon of relaxation.

“Yeah, Eddie’s hair totally looks like a wet mop.” Max Mayfield snickered between her sips of a twisty-straw-in-lemonade action. In truth, seeing lushes locks of black stick to his face and neck was quite amusing, especially when made worse as the metalhead re-calibrated like a dog, shaking his hair as a means of getting rid of the chlorine water that weighed down his head. One that could always get a good chuckle out of anyone.

“No! Not that! That!” The ghost trail that was of Eddie Munson walking inside the Harrington villa, as pointed to by Dustin as a means of evidence, did little to provide any context of support to whatever it was he was avowing about this time. In many instances, those close to him knew to just let his diatribes continue without interference. The kid’s standards were impossibly high; people’s mistakes of simple wrongdoings were always criticized by his superiority. ‘“Oh, I’m just gonna head to the bathroom real quick.’” Dustin mimicked, mocking the voice of his Dungeon Master with dramatic gestures of flailing arms. A testament surely to get his character killed in next week’s campaign, should he have been caught by the man.

“Yeah, Dustin, that’s kinda, like, a natural occurrence in life.” Mike Wheeler deadpanned with a patronizing voice to annoy, as it’d been known to exasperate his friend. It’d even gained a couple laughs from the lounging bodies strewn about in the breadth of the gardened backyard.

Lucas Sinclair had jumped at the opportunity to prod further, barking a deafening cackle. “Yeah, remember that bomb you dropped after the school’s attempt to serve enchiladas?” He slapped his knee with joy. “You had the janitor running from the stalls!”

That one really got a good laugh out of everyone. But before Max could even venture at an attempt to cater for further details, Dustin struck on offense to defend his honor from the sharings of his intimate privacy, definitively emphasized with an agitated tone of vexation. “No, no! You pinky swore that you’d never speak of it! Do I need to tell everyone what Erica found under your bed?!” Old reliable; blackmail, the bargain of a lifetime.

“The hell is under your bed, man?” Steve pondered, flipping a seared patty with a slab of American cheese ready to go. If it was anything like what was under his bed, he’d surely want no one to know.

“Nothing!”

“What I thought.” Dustin muttered with a glare, as Lucas shrunk in his chair to evade any potential threats of further questions that lay on the tips of his friends’ nosy tongues. “But again, that is not what I am talking about.”

Always the civil one out of the Wheeler clan, Nancy reassuringly stepped up to support her brother’s friend in need, settling everyone down. “We’re sorry, Dustin, go ahead.” It was to be expected she’d gain a heartfelt thank you from Dustin Henderson, himself, once the debacle simmered and the turbulence had passed. Nancy Wheeler always did have a special place in the kid’s big heart, particularly after the caring gesture of the 1984 Hawkins Middle’s Snow Ball Dance.

“How can you all be so blind?!” Dustin seethed. “You’re telling me none of you find it even a little suspicious that Eddie just so happened to go to the 'bathroom' right after Y/N’s excuse of wanting to 'change,' like, hello?!” He huffed. “They’re totally screwing!”

Dustin Henderson felt devastatingly vanquished when a unanimous vote of disbelieving what’s hurtled his way with no mercy. He felt useless- undermined. Like the bag of Fritos left behind when children would rather fight over Doritos or Sour Cream n’ Onion Lays, rather than appreciate the artistry of a simple corn chip, left alone and forgotten until a last resort when moms took too long to make dinner; never to be cherished in the dark corner of the bulk size box of Frito-Lays. Of course, they wouldn’t believe him. They didn’t witness what he had to tragically witness. He heard it so vividly. So hauntingly vivid. Sometimes, it kept the poor boy up at night. Last week- last Friday- Hellfire’s Friday, such an exhilarating night now befouled by the auditory version of what he learned in the ninth grade compulsory course of sexual education.

How naive of him to believe your actions stemmed from the kindness of your heart; offering your chauffeuring abilities to pick up the freshman after their campaigns, sauntering inside with a sickeningly sweet smile to pair with your tender greetings, and always wanting to lend a helping hand to the Dungeon Master, because “it just seems like so much to clean.” Puh-lease! The signs had been flashing in his face. The ulterior motives screaming in his ear. What sane person deliberately chooses to waste their time picking up three boys revved up with excitement and sweat after the thrills of Dungeons and Dragon? Jesus, shit, it was Friday night, don’t you have any plans?! Yeah, plans to stick your tongue down their Dungeon Master’s throat. Tainting the sanctity of Hellfire with your debauchery.

Dustin Henderson had forgotten his dice. Sometimes, he wishes he would have just let the damn things go.

“God, baby, a quickie- let’s just do it right here real quick.” Eddie’s begging voice vibrated behind the closed door of the drama department, seeping through the open cracks beneath the door, all for Dustin’s ears to hear.

And he tried to give him the benefit of the doubt- the kid really did. Pet names were far from unusual by use of Eddie Munson. The one instance the Byers dropped back into Hawkins during Spring Break, it was no doubt Will the Wise had to get a taste of the new man running the show, and when Eddie had given Byers the innocent compliment of being such a sweetheart, the kid blushed into oblivion, stuttering a thank you in return. Hell, not to mention the infamous “big boy” that followed Steve Harrington around wherever the man took on motherly duties. So, Dustin brushed it off. But the moment had quickly transpired into something cringe worthy to the fourteen-year-old who didn’t know better. It should have been his cue to run, but the fiery design of his dice cost him six bucks of his chores earning, and they weren’t about to be discarded, as if the sweat of his forehead meant nothing from an afternoon of bending over the mop bucket to clean the kitchen floors.

There are moments at night when he speculates if this is the doings of the heavenly man above that his beloved, Suzie Bingham, always mentioned; punishing Dustin in consequence of eavesdropping on a private matter that surely was not intended to be heard. But can you really call it eavesdropping when you were merely trying to retrieve your dice? No! You can’t!

“They’re already waiting for me in the car.” You whined against his lips. The figurine that was poking your hip was the last thing accounted for in your mind, as Eddie had showcased you onto the wooden table of the prop room. Lips smeared against yours, his hand had squeezed a chunk of your meaty thigh, bringing you forth to keep you in close company. “We can’t.” Can’t what, huh? Find the dignity to do it outside of school grounds?! Freaks!

“Little shits.” Dustin had appallingly gasped at the insult, feeling the stabbing wound of betrayal hit him in the chest as you laughed along, hand clutched over his heart to appease the pain of such affliction. The dramatics. “Come to my place after.” Eddie delicately kissed loving pecks to your lips. “That way,” his finger trailed up your thigh, “we can have our alone time, and I can finally get a taste of that pretty pu-”

Dustin Henderson knew to run away at that point. Safe to say, the kid never got his dice back.

“Are you insane?!” Motherly hand on the hip, Dustin didn’t appreciate Steve’s disciplinary tone of voice, sounding too much like his mother, Ms. Claudia Henderson, for his liking, as everyone agreed with Harrington’s proclaimed delusion against the boy. “Munson doesn’t have the skills to screw, let alone someone as hot as her.” He chuckled in disbelief.

Oh, boy, was he wrong.

“Mm, j-just like that, uh!” Your pelvis pummeled into the sink, tainting the precisely picked pristine porcelain by Mrs. Harrington, herself, as Eddie rutted his hips into the dampness that was your bikini bottoms to chase a release that was on the brink of snapping.

It was your fault he claimed; prancing in a top and bottom that left little to the imagination. Accusations of your outfit being chosen to taunt him were thrown your way, and your faux innocence only cemented it further. “Fuck- fucking take it—ugh, s-shit—take this fucking cock!” How could this ever be seen as a punishment when your boyfriend was lighting your body on fire with the ecstasy of abusing your g-spot?

Perhaps having sex in the bathroom of your mutual friend was far from the ethical rules of friendship, but the act of secrecy had bred a burning excitement that neither of you could contain. And, given the fact that four weeks ago, Steve had poked fun at Eddie’s singleness—not that Steve had any room to joke, though, at least, “The King” was relishing in the funness of meaningless hookups, something Eddie surely didn’t partake in, he lovingly had you—so seeking revenge in fucking his hot girlfriend in his friend’s bathroom had stirred something menacing in Eddie’s head to truly not give a single care in what he was doing was wrong.

“Yes! Yes! I’m gonna cum, fuck!” Fingers tightening on the edge of the sink, your heart soared watching the reflection of Eddie’s mouth panting with want, as he fucked your pussy, ready to release his load deep inside. His hands had snaked to grab handfuls of your bouncing tits, groaning as he felt your nipples poke through the coldness of your wet bikini top.

His hips harshly snapped against your rippling ass. “Cum all over my cock- shit! C’mon, pretty girl, fucking soak me- take all o’ me!” It barely felt as though he was pulling out, merely drilling in deeper and deeper. “I’m gonna cum- fuck, fuck, fuck, fu-”

“They are totally screwing!” The curls of Dustin Henderson’s head were on the verge of being ripped out in frustration; all that work he so earnestly dedicated night and day to maintain the silky bounce was about to be all for nothing. “They are! I heard them!”

Wrong choice of words. “You were listening to them screw?!” Robin gagged, triggering an onslaught of ew’s and perv’s- well, really, Max Mayfield had been the only one calling her friend a perv, doing it in the relaxation of her lounging chair, teasing behind her newly gifted heart-shaped sunglasses.

“No! No!” Dustin shouted in clarification. “I wasn’t listening! I heard them talking about it!” He agonized. “They’ve been doing it for at least a week! Behind our backs!”

“Oh!” Max ventured. “Let’s bet, I say they’ve been engaged for four months, and are pregnant!” She heckled, now clearly just taking the piss out of him.

“Has the water gone from your ears to your brain?” Robin laughed in his face. Surely the kid was mistaken, right? Aside from her personal himbo—Steve hated the nickname—you and Nancy Wheeler had become her newfound best friends. You know, a united front against the boys, girl talk, the whole shebang about girl code? Secrets weren’t a thing between your three! Granted, Robin, herself, was harboring a pretty large secret that only her himbo knew of, but that was different! Boys were nothing, she would gladly hear about all her friends’ boy problems, indulging in the drama of long distance or whatever the hell there was to complain about, but girls?! Yeah, that was, uh, that was just something- a topic still unbreached… at least, until she was ready.

“Fine!” The boy heaved, bailing out on defending his stance any further. “You guys don’t wanna believe, that’s just fine.” He snided. “But when they come back, and Y/N hasn’t changed out of her bathing suit, you won’t be laughing now!” Dustin Henderson ended his tirade with an embittered bite to his burger, dramatically dropping into his pool chair.

They’d all learn soon, and bow down to him.

So now, everyone waited. Waited for the fateful moment that would either prove Dustin Henderson right or wrong. And unfortunately- for you and Eddie, at least, your steamy escapade on the sink of the Harrington bathroom had left you too dazed and forgetful in the post-orgasmic bliss that was heavy breaths and loving touches of aftercare to keep up with the said excuse of “changing out of wet clothes” that got you alone with Eddie Munson in the first place. So when you marched out, glowing and relaxed—exactly two minutes and thirty-four seconds after Eddie’s “bathroom break” (so thoughtfully executed)—in the same damp bikini that had your secret boyfriend riled up to begin with, everyone gasped.

“What?” You looked around confused.

Unbeknownst to you, Dustin Henderson took a cheesy bite of his burger, loudly sipping a carbonated gulp of his cold Coke, ready to snap his fingers for another round of meals for his peasant friends to fetch.

He was right.

Robin Buckley confirmed it next.

That Monday to come, Robin was staggering over the words of Dustin Henderson, and trying to piece the evidence presented to understand what was transpiring in your double life. The events after your return from “changing” left you confused by the jarring stares of six pairs of eyes testing you. Nancy, with the softest approach, had questioned you on the lack of new clothes on your body, to which your knight in shining armor—or accomplice—stepped up to save you from the army of prodding friends. “A knot in my hair, yeah, I distracted her to help me get a knot out of my hair.” Sure, Eddie, sure.

During the uproarious minutes of lunchtime, you’d been ready to get an afternoon break from school to fork through Hawkins High’s poor excuse as to what constitutes consumable food, when the sudden scrutiny from Robin Buckley began. And, my god, was she persistent.

In the comical marching band she suited, Robin Buckley had rushed her attempt to the first approach. “Hey, Robs. You think I can borrow your notes for Civics, I-”

“So, I hear Jonathan’s coming back from California next week!” Something about rashly eating the served cut peaches seemed to play up to the normal act Robin was going for, but truthfully, it just made you eye her strange behavior weirdly.

“Oh.” You accepted the out-of-nowhere information. Maybe you won’t do so good on Mr. Vortroski’s test on Supreme Court cases as you originally thought. “That’s great for Nance-”

“Isn’t it?!” The enthusiasm she was exerting was truly taking it over the top. But Robin Buckley had a heart for caring, and perhaps the excitement for her friend was really bubbling up today. “Nancy said they’ve been planning, like, a lot of dates, you know, to catch up on lost time?” You casually nodded along. “Single dates, double dates… and then I was thinking, hey!” She perked. “Y/N’s young and good looking! She’s probably seeing someone! So are you, I don’t know, seeing someone? Anyone? Tall, dark hair? Anyone?”

“Uh…” Yeah, maybe the hastiness of Robin’s impetuous nature wasn’t the best route to go with. “No, um, no I’m not seeing anyone.” You gave a tight-lipped smile. “Nance and Jonathan are gonna have to find someone else to double date with- oh, maybe Steve! What’s that girl's name he’s been seeing, Brenda? Beatrice? Actually, you know what, it’ll probably be really awkward to ask your ex-boyfriend on a double date with your current bo-”

“You’re seriously not seeing anyone?!” Robin’s brows furrowed with frustration. You were lying to her face- you were lying straight to your best friend’s face! “Nobody? No one?” You begrudgingly shook your head. “No thing?”

“Robin,” you chuckled, “is there something you want to tell me?” There were lots of things Robin Buckley wanted to tell you. Like, for starters, the newfound revelation that she likes how she looks with mascara, after you left yours on the dresser of her bedroom during your sleepover two weeks ago. She had no plans of returning it back to you, either. Or, possibly the fact that Bridget—the actual name of Steve’s newest lover—stole his Farrah Fawcett hairspray- or the fact that Steve uses Farrah Fawcett hairspray. Maybe the other thing, as in the strange occurrence that happens to her heartbeat whenever Vickie from chemistry happens to be around. Or, the other other thing, like the fact that she spent an obscene amount of minutes staring at cover of “Scissoring with Seduction” starring Roxie Rockett and Viola Diamond, after organizing the adult films section at Family Video- actually, scratch that, she’d never tell a soul about that, not even Steve Harrington.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” She shot back with fervency.

“No…?” Your questioning answer had your friend igniting her dramatic flare, slumping in her seat with a defeated huff. Dustin Henderson would surely be owed a duly apology. At this point, you’d like to say this weirded you out, but you lived in Hawkins, Indiana. You’ve seen weirder.

Evidently not sufficed with your response, your friend sat up onto perched elbows. “Y/N, you know you can tell me anything, right?” A sincere approach. Undoubtedly better. “Like, you don’t have to be afraid to tell me stuff. I won’t judge or anything.” Robin solemnly smiled at you.

Your tender hand squeezed her arm. “I know.” You beamed. “I hope you know that the same goes for you, Robs. If you ever have anything you need to tell me, I’ll always be here to listen to you. Probably give you way better advice than Stevie.” You both chuckled at the expense of Steve Harrington. Robin Buckley understood the feeling of not being ready for the world to know, because knowing would change the dynamics of life, and having the world suddenly perceive you in a way they never have before was scary.

Having the world hate you for the tender love you caressed your partner with was terrifying.

You’d tell her when you were ready, just as she would with you.

With a nod to her head, she patted your hand. “You know, I asked Steve once on tips to upgrade my look, and he legit told me to do my eyebrows like Pamela Anderson.”

“The himbo, himself, is too unknowledgeable to know that Miss Anderson is the only one capable of pulling off the blonde bombshell look. Though, I would love to see him with pencil brows and blue eyeshadow.” You both laughed, before you reached over to pinch her chin. “Plus, your beautiful self doesn’t need any changing, Robs. Anyone would be lucky to wake up next to it.”

Yeah, she’d simply tell you when she was ready, just as you would with her.

By three o’clock, Robin Buckley had been worn down by the insufferable compulsion that was Mr. Heizer’s fifth period calculus class. With the last day of school being around the corner, Robin wondered what warranted Heizer’s balding head to be so miserable that he felt the need to subject his students with the abuse of derivatives. Trudging her feet against the pavement of the Hawkins High parking lot, Steve Harrington had came into view, where he brandished himself atop the hood of his car. Not the most irregular of sights, given the systemic routine of drop off and pick-up that had been structured for Monday through Friday, though today, Dustin Henderson had managed to find Steve’s BMW through the array of parked cars, and was found yapping his ear off.

So sorely critical-looking, Robin couldn’t help but tiredly chuckle. “What’s with the wrinkles, kid?” She approached.

Dustin huffed, letting his arms dramatically drop to his side in desperation. “Steve won’t go along with my plan!”

“What are you even doing here, Dustin, isn’t your mother, like, first in line at the car riders pick-up?” She laughed.

Steve exasperated. “He waved off his poor mother, like the lunatic he is, just to track me down and tell her I was giving him a ride!” He answered, propelling Dustin to gasp with a snide.

“So we can talk about the plan!” Dustin provoked the Italian—that he probably didn’t actually have—within him, as his loose fist shook in Steve’s vicinity.

“What plan?” Robin interjected.

“The plan to expose Y/N and Eddie!” Dustin stressed.

“Eddie and Y/N are not screwing.” Steve deadpanned. “What happened Saturday was just… some fluke coincidence, not proof to anything, okay? So let it go, Dustin. Just face it, you were wrong.” He chuckled a very much unappreciated chuckle in Dustin’s face.

“I am not wrong! I know what I heard! How many times do I have to be right on the money for you all to just trust me?!” Neither Steve or Robin appreciated the numerous stares the freshman was gathering from leaving classmates and faculty.

“Okay, just calm down, alright.” Robin shushed. “You're right-”

“Ha!”

“But I don’t think we should do anything.” Dustin heaved, scowling at Robin as if she just committed sacrilege.

“Are you crazy? Of course, we should totally do something!” Dustin retorted. “This is big news! Two of our best friends are dating! You know what this means?! I could have parents, Robin, and you know I don’t have a dad, do you really want to be the reason I never have a dad?” A pointed finger targeted her.

Her hand worked swiftly to smack his accusing finger away. “Eddie is not your dad, Christ, he’s not dating your mom.” She annoyingly sighed.

“Yeah, and also, I’ve known you for way longer. If anyone’s gonna be your dad, it’s gonna be me, not Munson.” Steve exhorted with ire.

Dustin mockingly laughed. “Please, you and mother have the same hips.”

Robin Buckley and Dustin Henderson were too engrossed in their conversation to bring any of their attention to Steve Harrington’s insulted gasp. “Look, Dustin, I already tried asking Y/N about it, and she’s just not ready to talk about it.” She explained. “Let’s just drop it until they’re ready to tell us.”

“Okay, but we can help them talk about it.” The kid returned with retaliation. “You know how great it was to see Nancy and Jonathan finally get together?”

“Which came at my expense, by the way.” Steve scoffed. “Don’t know why that brings you such joy.”

“Well, this is Y/N and Eddie, it’s even bigger!” Dustin smiled. “Look, all I’m saying is that a little encouragement never hurt anybody.” Call the boy annoying, he already knew that, but his intentions were coming from good faith. The notion of helping his friends find love- or more so express it, had him bubbling with excitement. “And the only way to get this love story rolling is if we get them to crack.”

Steve groaned. “Meaning?”

“Meaning, we have to make them break first.” Dustin was beginning to get his crazy eyes, something about conspiring a plan had him menacingly smirking his enthusiastic grin. “You know, trick them into telling us.”

Robin sighed, drilling the palm of her hands into her eyes. “Okay, you know what? Do whatever you like, Dustin, but I will not be a part of this plan.”

“Of course, you will!” Dustin implored with desperate hands grabbing at her arms to shake with emphasis. “You’re the one who’s gonna have to flirt with Eddie.”

Robin and Steve blurted in disbelief. “What?!”

“Well, Steve can’t flirt with Y/N, she’ll never go for it.” Dustin rationalized.

“Woah, woah, wait a second, what makes you think she wouldn’t go for me?” Steve plowed on, his ego taking an obvious hit by a child six years his age. “I’m a total catch, the ladies love me!” He argued. “And Robin, she can’t flirt with Eddie, she’s… uh, well, she- she just can’t!” He stepped up to try to help his friend, much to Robin’s appreciation.

Dustin sighed, placing a tender hand upon Steve’s shoulder. “Look, Steve, you gotta get over this crush you have on Robin-”

“I do not have a crush on Robin!” Steve flung Dustin’s arm away. “And back to this ‘Y/N not going for me’ thing, I can totally flirt with her to get her to crack!”

Dustin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, as though he was the adult in this situation. “Steve, c’mon, she calls you himbo behind your back, she probably thinks you have no personality.”

“I have personality!”

“No, you have hair!”

In the midst of the commotion, Eddie Munson had sauntered his way out of the double doors, cigarette in hand to relinquish the stress brought upon him throughout the day. Despite the matter that his van had been haphazardly parked on the west end of the parking lot for reasons being that your pretty self always used the end doors for the less crowded purposes—sue him, he loved the view—there was always something about Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson arguing that always brought happy entertainment for the metalhead.

“Trouble in paradise?” His croaking voice startled the group, as they all looked at him stunned. “Jesus Christ, what’s with the faces?” Eddie laughed, as his cigarette scraped along the wetness of lips.

“N-Nothing.” Robin awkwardly had to offer, forcing Eddie to raise a brow at her.

And then he spoke. Dustin fucking Henderson spoke. “Actually! Uh, R-Robin what were you saying about Eddie just now?” She snapped a deadly glare back at him, to which he gladly challenged with a grating smile that had Steve quietly laughing in the back.

“You talkin’ about me behind my back, Buckley? C’mon, I thought we were friends.” Eddie lightly jabbed, as he paid more attention to his lighter, which was taking multiple rounds of clicks until it ignited.

“Nothing.” She assured. “I said nothing.”

“No, no, you were saying something about his outfit.” Dustin encouraged. God, how ethical was it to beat up a child? “About how he… looks nice.”

Robin sighed, as Eddie gave her a lighthearted smile. “Thanks, Rob, I’m really liking those patches.” He pointed to her sweater, finding nothing but the innocence of friendship in her supposed compliment.

“A-And something about his large muscles.” A curl of his hair was absentmindedly twirled as to appear uninvolved in the scheme of his mischief, and right as Eddie’s eyes left Dustin with a confused stare, the kid’s arm shoved Robin’s back to coach her further.

So, Robin Buckley, simply accepted. Though, tapping into her retired career of one year in drama club when she got the gracious role of playing Mrs. Soames in last year's production of Our Town proved to lack any skills training, when attempting to flirt with Eddie Munson had her stuttering like a child learning to speak. Then again, playing Mrs. Soames in Our Town didn’t exactly require her to flirt with her friend’s secret boyfriend who was a man!

“Y-Yeah, Eddie, uh, that m-material.” Robin bunglingly smiled, as a stiff hand touched the leather of his coat. “O-Oh, well, hello, Mr. B-Bicep.” She mentally prepared herself for the moment Steve Harrington would belittle her to death for her lack of flirting skills whenever this mess was over. “You’ve been, uh, working out?”

Attempting to give her the benefit of the doubt, Eddie chose to assuage the painful discomfiture with his casual sarcasm. “Ah, well, I try to, y’know, squeeze things.” Eddie recoiled at her over-the-top laugh that appeared too similar to that of Heidi Wilson’s, when she ran into him and Steve in the food court of Starcourt Mall last week, looking to allure his friend with whatever screech that was. “You okay?”

“Uh-”

“She’s just having guy problems.” Dustin interjected, much to Robin’s dismay. Never. Never in a million years would Robin Buckley ever have guy problems. “Go on, tell him.”

Yeah, Dustin Henderson wouldn’t see the age sixteen. “Well, uh, you know how you’re s-sometimes just looking for something, a-and don’t even realize that it’s, um, right there in front of you... s-smoking a cigarette?”

Eddie looked down at the lit cigarette in his mouth, and quickly stepped back in panic, all while Steve Harrington’s cheeks puffed with laughter, as his sealed lips worked overtime to not guffaw out loud. “U-Um, yeah, okay, I’m gonna go.” Eddie could only spare a quick glance to Robin, before throwing everyone a small wave goodbye.

Robin Buckley watched him walk away for two seconds, before slowly turning to Dustin Henderson, where he was met with her twitching eye. “You have five seconds to run.”

His mouth fell gape. “But wait, Steve’s my ride-”

“Five!”

That Monday afternoon, Dustin Henderson spent forty-five grueling minutes walking the three mile hike to his home, as punishment per Robin Buckley’s request. And yes, she did wave him goodbye, when Steve Harrington’s BMW swiftly passed him on the way over.

Steve Harrington confirmed it next.

And maybe was a little asshole about it.

Benny’s Burger had become the choice of dinner for the mundane Monday night he was currently enduring, because Eddie Munson refused to hit up the bar, despite the common courtesy that buying beers had become for the twenty-year-old men. At the very least, greasy burgers with a cigarette to follow would be the accommodation Eddie Munson could offer, since Steve Harrington had lost his weekly hookup, because his personal wingman decided to fall into a secret relationship- presumably. Steve was choosing to balance on the fence of whether or not to believe the words of a fourteen-year-old, mostly because if he did, Steve Harrington would become subjected to the sanctimonious behavior of a cocky teenager.

And who would want that?

“Lemme do a double cheeseburger with extra pickles, uh, no tomatoes, please. Ooh, with a side of cheese fries, a strawberry shake, and I’ll get that with a Coke, too. Thanks, Benny.” Steve eyed his friend. God, that man could eat. The bustling fan that chilled Benny’s sweaty neck had proffered a wonderful alternative to the sweltering humidity that tinted the large windows with fog. Aside from the burly trucker consuming the two cups of coffee to keep him awake for the night, Steve had all respective authority to slyly grill his buddy on whatever friends-with-benefits-slash-potential-boyfriend-girlfriend dynamic he shared with you.

Fuck it. “Uh, might as well do the same, Ben, what he said.” The laminated menu went unskimmed, closed off, and collected for the owner to take.

Assuring the boys their meals would follow out quickly, they met Benny with gracious thank you’s for the service, and Steve Harrington rashly followed the movements of the older gentleman, until his being was out of ear shot, promptly snapping his head back to his friend. “Why didn’t you wanna go to the bar tonight?!” If a sign as to why Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington were soulmates, for whatever reason, needed to be clearer than it already was, the incaution- not so subtle “subtle” approach was reason enough.

“Uh,” Eddie hummed, forcing Steve’s eyes to narrow in return, “I dunno, just didn’t wanna go for drinks tonight.” He shrugged, flicking at a sugar packet he had no intentions of using.

Steve raised a brow. “Really?”

The incredulous tone was quite too bitchy for Eddie’s liking, who merely scoffed. “Can’t a guy care about his liver?”

“Ed, there’s a pack of cigarettes hangin’ in your pocket.” Steve deadpanned. “Think organ functionality is the least of your worries.” Unwelcoming to the implied suspicion of accusation behind Steve’s comment, Eddie simply chose to stay silent, finding more interest playing with the provided condiments as trinkets for his entertainment. Steve rolled his eyes. “Y’know, I saw Myra at the laundromat not too long ago.” He scratched his clean shaven chin, playing into his nonchalant bit, that only left Eddie to raise his eyebrows in confusion as to where this was going. “She looked nice; got her hair done, these pretty, little braids, y’know, with the gold cuffs and whatnot.”

Eddie’s head lolled, enjoying the simple task of his finger tracing the obscured lines of the faux granite table top, when the ketchup label had been read to its entirety. “So?”

“So,” Steve emphasized, “you coulda called her up, y’know, tell her to meet you tonight. How long has it been since you’ve seen her- or any girl for that matter?” He slyly asked.

“Not interested.” Blunt and suffice, surely enough to ward off anymore of Steve’s prodding questions.

But Steve merely scoffed. “What, in girls anymore?”

And in true Eddie Munson fashion, a shit-eating grin consumed his face, devious smile lines and all, as he leaned on perched forearms to invade Steve’s space. “Aw, why? You interested, big boy?”

Yeah, this conversation would be going nowhere.

As the sparing minutes filled to meaningless conversations, their full course dinners made the quick arrival, and Steve pondered at the various ways a confession could be pummeled out of Eddie Munson’s mouth, which was currently being stuffed to the brim with mushing bites of each food group—minus the vegetables, this was Benny’s Diner after all. There was the ex-fling route, but clearly Eddie wasn’t looking to explore that again; good news for you, at least. That is if anything Henderson claimed was actually true. Little shit-

But wait a minute, that was it! What would Dustin Henderson do?!

He could still hear his grating voice. "Well, Steve can’t flirt with Y/N, she’ll never go for it." As if. Steve Harrington could get you- hell, Steve Harrington could get anyone. Graduating out of the social hierarchy of high school totally hasn’t affected his game… totally. But digressing, if Dustin Henderson could scheme up a plan with no substance, Steve Harrington could, too. If anything, this would make so much more sense, given that Robin doesn’t even like boys. Dustin Henderson didn’t know anything, but Steve, yeah Steve Harrington was way more cunning than some snappy child with no regard for people’s business. Yeah, Steve Harrington could totally do this…

Eddie’s chewing slowed, brows cinched, as he wondered why the hell Steve Harrington had been silently smiling to himself for the past minute. And people saw him as a freak? Fucking weirdo.

“Hey, uh,” Steve cleared his throat, presumably back to being normal, allowing Eddie to continue to shove his face with a strawberry milkshake covered cheese fry, unperturbed by Steve’s judgemental grimace, “I’m thinkin’ of askin’ out Y/N.”

Suddenly caught in his throat, Eddie began coughing up the fry he just downed, as Steve smiled with such amusement at the torment he just caused his friend. Maybe Henderson was right. “W-What? You wanna what?”

“Yeah, been thinkin’ about it, and y’know, I’m really feeling her.” Steve cocked a smirk that had Eddie’s face scrunching with agitation. “Very smart, funny, really fucking pretty, so…”

“I d-don’t, um- you really think that’s a g-good idea?” Eddie adjusted in his seat, composing the bubbling feeling that stirred terribly with the monstrosity he had just eaten.

Taking a large bite from his burger, Steve grinned happily. “Why wouldn’t it be?” Hunger and entertainment wonderfully satiated on this peaceful, late Monday night.

Eddie shrugged, sulkingly throwing a stray pickle in his mouth. “I dunno, you’re just friends n’ all.” He mumbled.

“Oh!” Steve’s eyes gleamed with laughter behind them. “You don’t think friends should date-”

“No, no, no, no!” God, the last thing Eddie was about to do was inadvertently claim your relationship was some end all be all cataclysm, but did it really have to come at the expense of encouraging his friend to date his secret girlfriend?! “I-I mean, like, some friends c-can date, like, um, good friends-”

“So, me and Y/N?” Steve quietly chuckled to himself, as he watched Eddie fret with frustration.

“No- I mean, I dunno!” He exasperated, as Steve relished in his greasy food with a smile on his face. Eddie’s heart began sinking into his stomach. He understood how demeaning it would be to conclude you as the type to jump into Steve’s arms once he’d make the “inevitable” move. God, for once in his life someone with care to proffer promised him fundamental security, and there was no denying it, he felt. Felt it in your caressing hands, your saccharine words, your devoted kisses, your gentle touches- you touched with such love… at least, that's what it felt like. Does Eddie Munson even know love? He swallowed thickly. “D-Do you even think she would go for you-”

“I have personality!” Steve proclaimed, finger pointed and all, forcing Eddie to shove back in surrenderance, hands in the air, and a confused look to pair.

“Okay, I’m not sayin’ you don’t, geez.” Eddie clarified, as Steve huffed, raking a harsh hand through his Farrah Fawcett hairsprayed perfection. “J-Just maybe don’t. Like, um, i-if it doesn’t work out, it could get really bad between you two, a-and it would be fucking horrible not to have her in your life at all, you can’t lose her, man.”

Voice so small and eyes so distant, there was a deep inkling that perhaps Eddie was speaking his fears aloud. Because even in the greatness that was having the privilege of calling you his girlfriend, there was a world full of Steve Harringtons that could provide you with more than what any Eddie Munson ever could. Late at night, when the world could finally offer you both the peace to just be, entangled in arms and legs, Eddie would just stare at you and… know. Know that there is a feeling that scares the living shit out of him that he can’t feel for anyone else. A different type of feeling from the camaraderie of his club, who triumph against the evil of the universe. A different type of feeling from the shoulders he’s cried on of his uncle, because Eddie truly cannot thank him enough. You, you were a different type of feeling. One that left him just wanting to look at you, smell you, touch you, think of you all day.

This wasn’t just infatuation, god, it felt like pure fucking lo- shit, what would he know. Eddie Munson didn’t know love.

A sudden wave of regret washed over Steve, as he realized the saddened roundness of his buddy’s eyes. “Nah, man, that’s not gonna happen.” His calm voiced reassured. “I mean, it’s Y/N, why would she ever allow that to happen? Y’know, so what, things don’t work out between… me and her,” he explicated, “doesn’t mean your- I mean, our friendship has to change.” Steve watched, as Eddie nodded along, shoulders slumping in relaxation. “We talk it out, we understand each other, and we move on as friends. Together. We’ll still love each other like that. And, hey, at least we’ll both get a hot hookup out of it.” Okay, maybe he was still being a little shit, but he was only channeling his inner Henderson. Plus, the snapping glare from Eddie was quite priceless.

“Are you really gonna make a move on Y/N?” His jaw ticked with clenched teeth.

“I dunno.” Steve smiled, before snapping his fingers with a brilliant revelation, “Y’know what, I saw Robin flirting with you earlier today, how ‘bout we go on a double date?” Yeah, now he was definitely just teasing. “Hell, make it a triple one once Byers and Wheeler head back into town.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Robin was not flirting with me, she was just being… weird.” He pondered it for a second. What the hell was that that happened this afternoon? There’s no way she actually- no, impossible. Could she? No, that didn’t feel right. Well, maybe-

“Hey, do you actually think I have personality?” Oh, Stevie.

On Tuesday evening, the Family Video store saw the little customers it was regularly accustomed to; Mr. Fredrickson, only to be accounted for, slowly roamed the documentary section, particularly interested in the historical segment for his afternoon leisure.

The nub of his cane poked an indent into the carpeted floors, as his supported weight allowed for close inspection of the bolded titles that plastered in an array of colors. Luckily, the lens of his glasses were thick enough to provide him the ability of sight to read what was on display for night, leaving you to mindlessly thumb through this month's issue of Cosmopolitan. “Hm.” Mr. Fredrickson gruffed. “What d’ya make of the Franco-Prussian War, darlin’?”

The Proven Personal Approach to Permanent Weight Loss. An Incredible Shrinking Woman Tells How She did it! Christ. You found more interest flipping back to the written Cosmo’s quiz determining what kind of husband your current rendezvous would make.

“Uh…” Your back was beginning to ache from finding all support on your perched elbow digging into the counter, letting your cheek fall to your palm. “You did the Napoleonic Wars last time, no? Why don’t you give the French a break?” You skimmed the printed words of the glossy pages.

His wrinkled pointer finger shakingly racked through the tapes, as he took your word of advice. Your eyes were hanging onto the last bit of energy they were enduring to stay awake, but the weight of eyelids inevitably began to win, and it surely didn’t help that the liveliness of your thriving life was partaking in conversations with an elderly man who found amusement in learning about wars.

But before a potential write up—Keith never found the actual courage to do so, loved to threaten it, though—for sleeping on the job could be scolded, the welcoming bell of the front door rang loudly enough to alert some life back into your body.

“Welcome to Family Vide-euuawghh.” A guttural yawn ripped out of you, slurring your standardized greeting into an embarrassing mush of sounds.

With watery eyes scrunched from tiredness, a rushed apology to your incoming customer had proved to fall unnecessary, as a familiar chuckle addressed you back. “Aw, such rigorous labor, working my baby to death, huh?” Eddie Munson, himself, teased, as he leaned to hover over the counter and close to your sluggish face.

“Don’t tease me.” Your mouth jutted in offense, as you rubbed your eyes to the clear sight of being welcomed by Eddie’s bourbon eyes and a smug curl to his lips.

His rough-tipped thumb caressed the hairs of your brow to ease. “How can I not when it gets you to make that cute pout at me, hm?”

You piqued with giddiness. “Because I’m your girlfriend.” A label you quickly learned to adore. “And you shouldn’t be mean to your girlfriend.”

Eddie smiled a breathy chuckle, as he peered at your lips. “Yeah, you are my girlfriend, huh?” He proudly verbalized with a husk to his tone. His mouth was itching to say more, pour out all he felt for the girl standing before him, but a counter the size of the world divided the union between two beating hearts of devotion. And manifesting his words of love paved the way for the potential loss of you. But not doing so also did the same. Because he’s learned good things don’t last for Eddie Munson. And what a unless world it would be to lose the profoundness of you.

God, he wanted to punch Steve Harrington for last night.

Eddie took a deep breath. His bangs landed against your forehead, and scrunched under your nod of confirmation. You are his girlfriend. “Where’re the other two stooges?” He whispered, his breath fanning across your face.

“In the back doing inventory.” You gladly answered the words Eddie wanted to hear. He bashfully leaned in, though before his mouth could meet yours, you pulled back with furrowed brows. “Wait, ‘other two stooges,’ am I the third?”

Eddie barked out a boyish laugh, as he watched your faux face of aversion and shock. His large hands made your face feel small as he cupped your cheeks and brought you forth. “God, you’re so pretty.”

His lips crashing upon yours had wiped your expression of any annoyance you tried to playfully brat out. His mouth moved against yours so languidly, it had you falling limp to his kiss, as he expressed all that he felt with the touch of his lips. Eddie pulled away slowly, leaving you to quietly hum in retaliation and chasing his lips.

“Sorry.” He chuckled, providing you with one more loving peck. “But, hey, y’know, speaking of the other stooges, uh, Robin and Steve,” he cleared his throat, “you notice anything weird about ‘em, like lately?”

The cafeteria. “Um, yeah, actually.” You contemplated on the thought. “Why, did they say something?”

Nausea hit him like a truck, wondering if "The Hair’s" attempts to get at you were already happening quicker than expected. “S-Steve, he, uh, he said something to you?” Eddie felt his throat dry up.

“Steve? No, Steve’s been Steve, but I was mostly talking about Robin.” Jesus Christ, did you bring peace to his world.

“Oh, yeah,” He puffed a breath of relief, “um, weirdest thing happened after school yesterday, but I think Robin was hitting on me.” Confusion had been written all over your face, as you pulled back from the counter. “She was, like, totally into me.”

“What?” You chuckled. “No, not possible.”

“Okay, ow.” Eddie playfully rolled his eyes, as you laughed, rubbing a soothing hand down his arm in apology.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean it like that” you giggled, “but I’m sure you probably just misread things, you know? Robin finds you charming in a platonic way, like with Steve.”

Eddie straightened up. “No, I’m telling you, sweetheart, she was all over me.” He persisted. “I mean, for crying out loud, she was touching my bicep.”

A smug smile took over your face, as you arched your brow at him. “This bicep?” You teasingly squeezed his soft arm.

Eddie scoffed. “Well, it’s not flexed right now.”

The back storage unit of Family Video had been littered with an influx of tapes, both coated in dust to be long forgotten and pristine with the newest release of what Hollywood had to offer. This year’s box office hit Top Gun starring Nancy Wheeler’s poster boy, Tom Cruise, or the fourteen-year-old The Ruling Class with the musical humor following a priest’s death due to his autoerotic asphyxiation kink? Robin Buckley laughed. Always the latter.

“God, can’t believe Keith expects us to organize this junk.” Steve huffed, swiping his palms against each other, only to scowl at the specks of dust that floated into the air under the beaming sunlight. “I should be seeing Bridget right now, or Heidi, or taking out Linda, maybe Jeanie, haven’t talked to her in a minute.” Robin rolled her eyes at the endless sex-capades that was Steve Harrington’s love life. Christ, she couldn’t even get a clear sign that Vickie from chemistry wasn’t standing so straight. “Or-or maybe Y/N.” He chuckled to himself.

“What?” Robin prodded.

“Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you, last night I was completely bugging out Munson, and told him I was planning on askin’ out Y/N.” Steve laughed, briefly coughing as dust particles blew off the VHS tapes.

Robin was only left deadpanning in disappointment. “You did what now?” She scoffed. “You’re supposed to be on my side, I thought we were supposed to let it go?”

“You’re the one flirting with your friend’s boyfriend.” He argued.

“Because that little twerp forced me to!” The Ruling Class came hurdling to his chest, as she chucked it.

Shoving old movies aside, Steve grappled onto the box of new releases to shove into Robin’s arms, as he handled the second load. “Look, it doesn’t matter anymore, there are no sides, as much as I hate to admit it, Henderson was right about those two screwing.” Steve enthused. “You should’ve seen the look on Eddie’s face when I told him I was gonna make a move on Y/N.”

Robin huffed. “Okay, so let’s just leave it at that and let them screw in peace- or, even better yet, let’s just tell them we know, so they can have the freedom to do what they want.”

“Aw, but where’s the fun in that?” Steve whined.

Robin laughed at his childish mewl. “And, unless Munson gets rid of the thing in his pants and learns to grow a cup or two, I am not flirting with him again.” She playfully gagged, while reminiscing on yesterday’s events.

“Please,” Steve derided, “you can’t even look Vickie in the eye, I highly doubt if Munson suddenly grew some tits you’d become some sort of Casanova.” He snorted, opening the door. “Mr. Bicep?”

Before Robin’s sneaker could step foot back into the main lobby of Family Video, Steve’s grasp onto the collar of her shirt flung her back into the storage room, with a slam to the door. “Are you inane?!” She chastised, while attempting to find her balance with a ten pound box of VHS tapes.

“Munson’s out there!” He whisper-yelled into her face.

“Okay, so?”

“So, we gotta get in there, and stir the pot a little.” His brows danced impishly against his forehead.

Robin’s face dropped vacantly. “What about anything that I literally just said didn’t click for you?” A smack against his head from her hand had him reeling back in defense.

“Ow, okay, I get it, Munson doesn’t have boobs.” Steve huffed, rubbing out the dulling pain. “But, look, Dustin wasn’t that far off, a little encouragement doesn’t harm anyone. He thinks that you like him and that I like her, you’re telling me this isn’t even a little funny to you?” My god, did Steve Harrington have a charming way of flaunting that stupid smirk that had Robin hold back a chuckle. Because in retrospect, Eddie Munson believing his lesbian friend had a crush on him, while her partner in crime, her himbo, had a supposed liking to his secret girlfriend was quite funny. Funny like a priest dying from his autoerotic asphyxiation kink.

She sighed, giving him a pointed glare. “One time, Harrington. This is the one and only time I will ever flirt with a man again.”

Steve threw his hands up in defense, as a smile lingered on his face. “Highly doubt there will ever be a time in which I ask you to do that again.” He laughed, while slinging the door open. “Plus, it’s Munson. I’m sure his cynicism won’t even count it as flirting.”

“Well, Y/N's flirting surely worked.” She joked, as they stepped out.

“You think it’s because he has personality or nice hair?” Steve interrogated. “Because I sure as hell have way better hair than him.”

Despite your alluring face, Eddie caught a glimpse of Steve and Robin making their way over while looking past your shoulder, forcing him to make the regretful decision to back away from you. “Ed.” Your tiny pout of confusion made it all that harder, until Steve’s voice boomed out.

“Hey, y’know, as a customer, you’re supposed to actually rent something!” Him and Robin joined you both at the counters, where they sat the boxes of movies. “Or, you could, y’know, stock shelves with us.”

Eddie flipped him the bird, as he smiled. “Actually, I was just stoppin’ by to ask if Halloween is still rented out.” He turned to look down at you with a smirk. “Is it?”

“I can go check that for you.” Your sweet customer service voice had him biting back a grin, as you stepped away to the computer.

As Steve and Robin began displacing films from the boxes, his elbow nudged her side to grab her attention away from organizing. “Just keep it casual.” He whispered, as she rolled her eyes. “Look, I’m sure if you unfocus your eyes, the five o’clock shadow will go away, and he’ll totally look just like Vickie.” And he huffed right back when Robin rightfully scoffed at him. “What? They have the same eyes… just, y’know, different color… and shape.”

Robin waved him off before anything further could come out of his mouth. With The Fly nestled in her grasp, Steve threw her a nod of encouragement, before scurrying to the shelves with a small laugh escaping his lips.

“Sorry, Eds.” You clicked off the computer. “Landon K. beat you to it; no Halloween.”

“Should totally check out The Fly.” Robin slyly imposed, as she handed him the film. “Can never go wrong with some Cronenberg, right?” Eddie inspected the film with a shrug. “Sure, better than taking movie suggestions from Harrington.”

There came the inordinate laugh from Robin that had Eddie throwing you a knowing glance, and Robin, herself, internally dying inside. “Ha! Always so funny!” She clumsily fist-bumped his arm. “Uh- anyway! Better get back to work.” A large smile flashed both your ways.. “I, uh, I’ll see you later… handsome.” And following in the footsteps of her grandmother when she wasn’t screaming something batshit crazy, Robin Buckley pinched Eddie Munson’s cheek before running away to Steve Harrington.

“You pinched his cheek?!” Steve contemptuously chortled in her frazzled face that burned with embarrassment.

Robin’s hands smack her face, dragging the skin down, as she groaned. “Well, I don’t know how to do the whole flirting thing!” Her fist came smacking down at his chest.

Steve bent at the waist with a cramping stomach of laughter “Okay, yeah, but he’s not a baby!”

Your eyes followed Robin’s running figure until she disappeared into the maze of shelves, and you incredulously turned to your stunned boyfriend. With his mouth wide, and eyes bulging, Eddie fretfully spoke. “Okay, did you see that?! With the compliment, and the pinching?!”

You bewilderedly settled at the realization. “Actually, I did.” You couldn’t believe it. Your best friend was flirting with you boyfriend- well, technically, she had no clue he was your boyfriend, but still- Eddie? Not to sell your boyfriend short, god, he was perfect in every way, but Robin? Robin and Eddie?!

“Okay, so now do you believe that she’s attracted to me?” He persisted.

You thought for a second, and Eddie Munson watched your face drop with concern, as your hand clutched your chest. “Oh, my god! Oh, my god! She knows about us!” You cautiously warbled, as you began pacing about behind the counter.

Eddie’s face scrunched with distress. “Are you serious?”

“Robin knows, and she’s just trying to freak us out!” You belabored, anxiously looking back to where Steve and Robin could no longer be seen. Your hands dramatically dropped at the revelation. “That’s the only explanation for it!”

Eddie vacillated at the unwarranted insult. “Okay, but what about my pinchable face and bulging biceps?” He confidently pointed to his arm, before the lacking muscle of scrawiness suddenly hit him like a truck. “She knows!”

Your hand comically slapped the counter, as you chuckled in disbelief at her attempt to fool you. “Oh, man, she probably thinks she’s so slick for messing with us.” Eddie joined in, frenziedly laughing, completely feeling stupefied, though giving props to the mastermind, nonetheless. Impressed he was. “But, hey, you know what? She doesn’t know we know she knows, so…”

“Ah, yes!” Eddie piqued with interest. “The messers become the messees!”

“You sure you kids are alright?” Shrugging on his utility jacket for the night, the aging lines of Wayne Munson’s forehead scrunched with suspicion for the nightly activity his nephew and his supposed “friend” were going to be up to.

Sure, the sight of you over at his trailer wasn’t something peculiar, in fact, for the past months, you, in particular, were the only one of Eddie’s buddies who made a regular appearance to their humble abode. Why? Well that was a question that still went unanswered whenever Wayne tried to prod into the life of his nephew. But the way Eddie would blush, while simultaneously attempting to quickly change the subject, made Wayne’s throat tickle with a chuckle.

Who the hell were you two fooling?

But now, with much concern from Wayne, it seemed as though Eddie’s oddities had begun rubbing off on you, as you both strangely huddled around the yellow home phone, clearly waiting for the second Wayne would close the door behind, as he left for the graveyard shift.

Attempting to “casually” lean against the paneling of the wall, Eddie’s head was quick to snap up and down in return. “Yeah, yeah.” He rushed. “Better get goin’, don’t wanna be late for the bosses.” He threw an overcompensating smile, as you sat at the kitchen table, merely following suit to that of your “friend.” Wayne Munson couldn’t care less about the bosses.

“Alright then.” The old man huffed, picking up the keys of his pick-up truck, letting the humid spring breeze waft through the front door. “Get ‘er some dinner if you’re makin’ ‘er stay late.”

“As always.” Eddie threw you a sly wink, as Wayne left with a quick exchange of goodbye thrown from both parties, until the front door finally closed.

At the click, you sprung from your chair, snatching the phone out of the receiver to hand to Eddie, to which he happily grabbed with a maniacal snicker. “You sure she’s over at Steve’s?”

Your fingers were fervent with the harsh press to the buttons, dialing the numbers to phone the Harrington residence. “Uh huh, something about watching Fast Times with Robin.” The second your finger pressed down on the last digit, you were quick to maneuver the phone against Eddie’s ear. “Okay, just stick to the script.”

Eddie scoffed, flipping his hair back. “Sweetheart, please, I was able to get you, I sure as hell can get Robin.” Your hand met his chest with a chastising slap. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” He laughed.

Up the road, on the secluded sector of Cornwallis Street, Robin Buckley was anxiously plowing through a bowl of popcorn, as the fifty-second minute was fastly approaching, and suddenly Phoebe Cates was climbing out of the pool with the detrimental ambience of teenage horniness.

“Here it comes, here it comes!” Steve snickered, as he absentmindedly chewed on a licorice piece.

Robin’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “God, Steve, you don’t have to point out the obvious!” But after forcing her friend to endure two hours and thirty-four minutes of the satirical musical critique of institutional religion that was The Ruling Class, Steve decided to return the torture by subjection of… boobies.

“What I’m point out is the fact that Vickie lived through this exact moment, meaning she was staring at boobies, meaning-”

“Don’t say it!”

“Vickie likes boobies!” Steve implored, the largest grin on his face, as he watched Robin slap her hands onto her face at a brutal attempt to shield herself from the mortifying experience that was having Steve Harrington as a friend.

But, in slow motion, as Phoebe Cates’ fingers clutched onto the center hook of her bikini bra, the phone shrilled, allowing Robin to exhale a “thank god,” as Steve’s attention begrudgingly turned to the incoming call.

Swiftly jumping to the end table, Steve picked up the brick phone. “Yeah, hello?” He spoke, munching on another rope of his candy, surely missing the quick glances Robin was making back at the TV. Steve’s brows piqued at the static voice. “Oh! Yeah, she’s right here!” Turning to Robin, his hand cupped over the speaker, as he giddily shoved the phone to her. “It’s Eddie, he’s probably gonna cave in.” He whispered.

Rolling her eyes, Robin cleared her throat from any stray popcorn kernel, ready to end this once and for all. “Hello?”

Back at Forest Hills, your toes pressed against the linoleum tiling of the kitchen floor to push yourself up to his height, smushing your ear against the other side of the phone, as mischievous smiles consumed both your faces. “Hello, Robin… I’ve been thinkin’ about you all day.” Eddie channeled his most suave voice, forcing you to bite back a laugh, suppressing your mouth into his shoulder.

“Huh?!” Devious as ever, both you and Eddie almost broke at her considerable shock.

Steve raised a questioning brow, attempting to scoot closer, only for Robin to preserve her personal bubble and shove him back. Much to his nosey dismay. “Well, y’know that thing you said before, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued.” Eddie teased, as you nodded your head along to show your proudness for your boyfriend flirting with your friend.

Yeah, things in Hawkins, Indiana surely were weird.

“R-Really?” Robin choked, as the popcorn in her stomach suddenly turned at the uneasiness of male attention. Gross.

Ever the villain, Eddie smiled triumphantly. “Yeah, listen my uncle isn’t gonna be here tonight, so why don’t you come over, and I’ll let you, uh, feel my bicep… or maybe more.” You quietly chuckled. God, what a cute loser.

Robin grimaced, stuttering with concern. “Uh, you know, I-I’ll have to get b-back to you on that, uh, okay, bye!” She was quick to hang up the phone, while you and Eddie intimately celebrated in the lonesome of his kitchen with silly squeals and tiny jumps. “Oh, my god! He wants me to come over to feel his bicep and more!”

Steve Harrington was left speechless at Robin’s panicked announcement, as his mouth hung wide. “Are you kidding?!”

“No!” She gagged. “I know what I heard!”

Steve felt incredulously at the scumminess of his friend. “I cannot believe he would do that to… wait a second.” His brows furrowed. Eddie Munson nearly launched at the chance to shut down any ideas of Steve dating you, why on Earth would he suddenly- oh, shit. “They know!”

“What?!”

“They know that we know!” Steve clarified, as the gears in Robin’s head turned, until her face was enlightened with the fact of the matter which was that her best friend was trying to deceive her right back!

She gasped. “I can’t believe those two!” Instantaneously, any reservations Robin initially had for Steve and Dustin’s plan had left, as all she felt was dramatic offense at the idea of trying to be demeaned.

“They thought that they could mess with us?!” Steve proclaimed.

“They’re trying to mess with us?!” In disbelief, both friends chuckled with bewilderment at the unexpected slyness coming from you two. That was, until Robin Buckley schemed with realization. “They don’t know we know they know we know!”

Steve’s face scrunched with confusion, though nonetheless a team player, he nodded along, giggling at Robin’s wicked implication. Suddenly, a call to the Henderson household was in need.

Dustin Henderson’s calves burned under the rigorous strain of bike riding from the northern end of Cornwallis street to reach Steve’s house. Haphazardly disposing his bicycle in the driveway, Dustin had barged in with no warning, coming face-to-face with Robin Buckley, resident polyglot band geek, wearing Mrs. Harrington’s blue cocktail dress, as Steve Harrington, retired king of Hawkins High, played makeup artist with his mother’s newly bought red lipstick in hand.

It was undeniable at this point, Hawkins, Indiana was most definitely weird.

“Would you just quit moving, so I can put this on you?!” The vein on Steve’s forehead became pronounced under the immense pressure he felt. Being a makeup artist surely wasn’t easy, especially when your client was nagging about the intense blush placement of his work.

“Enough with the makeup, it’s Eddie for Christ sake!” Robin complained, enduring the endeavor of trying to shove Mrs. Harrington’s shoes onto her feet. God, why was the woman’s shoe size so small?!

“Really Steve?!” Robin and Steve jumped at the intruding voice of Dustin, as the kid stood with his hands on his hips, imitating the signature pose of the man before him. “That’s totally not her color, you’re making her look like a clown!”

Both parties scoffed, rightfully offended.

Robin pushed Steve away, rubbing her cheeks harshly to blend out the monstrosity that was Steve’s makeup skills. “Okay, this is plenty!” She stressed. “We’re gonna call him, we’re gonna get that date, and we’re gonna win!”

The boys cheered, Dustin more so heavily appreciative of this new Buckley mentality, as they circled around her when she reached for the phone. “Mm! You better grab a spring roll before I eat ‘em all.” Eddie’s crowded mouth of mashed vegetables spoke. Chinese had been delivered in the wake of your celebration, congratulating both of you for your—mostly Eddie—duplicitously clever work.

In the midst of diving into your tangled lo mein, the phone shrilled, which had Eddie springing from the couch. “Probably calling back to surrender!” You cheered, as Eddie snickered, sliding his socked feet into the kitchen. “Good job on creeping her out, babe!”

Eddie bowed, accepting whatever weird kind of praise that was, before answering the phone with a muffled mouth of spring rolls. “Hello?”

“Be sexy.” Steve encouraged, eliciting a scoff from Robin, as she turned her focus onto the phone call.

“Hi!” Both terribly displeased with her lack of commitment, Robin was met with strict glares from Dustin and Steve to amp it up… so, she did. Clearing her throat, she dropped an octave to obtain the sultriness of what she could only assume Roxie Rockett and Viola Diamond to sound like. “Uh, I mean, hey, you.” Robin Buckley wanted to puke. “So, Eddie, I’d love to come over tonight.”

A piece of pork was hacked from Eddie’s throat, as he choked on his food. “R-Really?!”

Watching his face drop, you stood with concern wondering what was going on on the other line. “Oh, absolutely. Should we say around nine?” Eddie checked his clock. In fifteen fucking minutes?!

But Eddie Munson wasn’t going to back down. Eddie Munson, Dungeon Master of the great Hellfire, who’s pushed his men to prevail against the nefarious dark lords of villages and towns alike, was not going to be defeated by Trumpet Girl. The man glared his eyes. “Yes.” He tested.

Robin Buckley accepted his challenge. “Good.” She smiled, as she watched Steve motion for her to crank it up a notch. “Uh, I’m really looking forward to you and I h-having sexual intercourse.” The phone hung up and flung from her hands the second the words left her mouth.

Eddie Munson’s face dropped. Dustin Henderson gagged. Steve Harrington laughed. And Robin Buckley wanted to crawl into a hole to forever perish in the depths of torturous hell.

Because that’s what it felt like to flirt with a man.

“Okay, showtime!” Dustin applauded from the backseat of Steve’s car, where Robin scrambled to effortlessly scrunch her hair around.

“Here’s the perfume.” Steve pushed down the nozzle of the stolen fragrance of his mother’s collection—thanking god for the moment that she wasn’t here—where his finger spritzed numerous doses against Robin, causing the car to invade with the nauseating scent of strong, overpowering flowers.

Robin coughed. “Alright, quit it! The kid has allergies.”

“I have allergies!” Dustin sneezed.

Steve huffed in annoyance, watching as Robin unbuckled from her seat. The beaming headlights that had once reflected off the vinyl-covered walls of the trailer had been switched off for stake-out purposes, as Steve’s car parked in the open area of the Munson home in the quiet night.

“Hand over the wine, Henderson.” Buckled next to the seat of Dustin’s—for protective measures—a bottle of his parent's stolen chardonnay rested like a passenger on board; Steve’s, ever the romantic, suggestion for the authenticity of a real date.

“Is this really necessary?” Robin truly had no room to talk, she most definitely hadn’t experienced the polarizing events of the dating scene, let alone ones of heterosexual realms (thankfully).

Scoffing, Steve was galled by the dig at his—for once—knowledgeable expertise of life phenomena. “Are you kidding, chicks go for this shit.” Surely, Bridget, Heidi, Linda, and Jeanie can attest to his opinion.

“Yeah, well, Munson’s definitely not a chick… unfortunately.” She mumbled.

“Huh?” Dustin asked.

Robin was quick to shut up in a panic. “Nothing!”

“Look, just get in there, and do your thing, alright?” Whatever attempt at a pep talk this was from Steve Harrington devastatingly fell short, as the last thing Robin Buckley expected to do on her Tuesday night was go out on a date with a man, who so happened to be her best friend’s boyfriend. Thing?! What thing?! She couldn’t even stare her crush in the eye for Christ sake, Steven! Robin Buckley has no thing! And Eddie Munson unfortunately does- the repulsing (to her) kinda thing that Robin Buckley doesn’t even like! She huffed. “Just take it easy. The second Munson lets you in, we’ll sneak up to the door, and hear through there.”

On the edge of his bed, Eddie Munson let your hands wander about, until his appearance was up to your liking; voluminous hair, controlled friz, straightened shirt, and a bottle of minty mouth spray that he coughed at, but necessary for the prevention of spring roll breath. “Okay, you’re gonna be great!” You motivated him with the words of encouragement, as you brushed away his stray hairs. “You just make her think you want to have sex with her, and it’ll totally freak her out.”

Eddie straightened up, shaking his body from any jitters, and stretching as if a marathon was in place. “Okay, so how far am I exactly supposed to go with her?” His face etched with concern.

You waved him off. “Relax, alright, she’s gonna give in way before you do!” If there was anything you learned about Robin Buckley in your months of friendship, it was the blatantly obvious fact that she would shrivel up in awkwardness before anything further took place.

Eddie Munson freaked at your sudden certainty. “How do you even know?!”

“Because you’re on my team!” You stressed. “And my team always wins!”

His face scrunched with fret. “At this?!”

Tentative knocking against the front door pulled you both away from the conversation. It was game time. “Eddie,” his head whipped back to you, “you’re the Dungeon Master, okay? This, this is nothing in comparison to dark lord wizard thingies.” God, he knew for certain you didn’t fully understand his interest in Dungeons and Dragon, but the time you took to support him was making his heart beat faster than any fake date with your best friend could ever make him feel.

You make him feel such incredible things.

“You’re the master here, you’re in control, you got this!” Jesus Christ, the corny shit your competitiveness was making you say was too fucking cute. “Just go get some!” You finished him with a quick kiss that had him yearning for more, but your body quickly scurried away to the bathroom.

Eddie Munson sighed. Cracking his neck, he rolling his shoulder. “I’m the Dungeon Master. I’m in control.”

Steve clutched a heavy hand on his steering wheel, as both him and Dustin peered through the windows. “Okay, just wait for it… wait for it… wait- get down!” The boys dropped their heads the second Eddie’s front door opened with a dramatic swing.

And there she was. Eddie cocked an eyebrow for whatever reason it was Robin Buckley chose to show up overly dressed like a middle-aged woman, and with an awkward smile to taint her image. But Eddie Munson was right there to follow suit with a strange grin to greet her.

“Robin.”

“Eddie.”

“Come on in.”

“I was going to.”

As the trailer door closed shut, Steve and Dustin silently crawled their way out of the car with their utmost quietest attempts of closing the doors shut behind them. With crouched stances like detectives on duty, the pair scampered their way to the top of Eddie’s cemented stairs, where their heads pressed against the front door to hear the muffled conversation from the other side.

“I, uh, brought some wine.” Robin held up the bottle, as Eddie was slightly taken aback. What the hell kinda teenager brings wine to a date? Probably the kind who’s a lesbian, and going out with her best friend’s boyfriend out of competition. “Would you like some?”

“Oh, uh, sure.” Making their way to the kitchen, Eddie secured two cups, as Robin popped off the protruding cork top, and suddenly she felt entirely even more stupid than the fact that she was on a “date” with a man, when Eddie proffered matching Garfield and Odie mugs for glasses of chardonnay.

The dreadful silence began to take over, and Eddie could only manage to fill it with thorny chuckles, as Robin filled the mugs. “So, uh,” she sighed, “here we are. Nervous?”

“Me? No. You?” He skeptically questioned.

But Robin Buckley was there to provoke him. “No, I want this to happen.”

“So do I.” Eddie cleared his throat, before their glasses clicked with a toast, and Robin and Eddie found themselves chugging down the mug-fulls of alcohol to hopefully forget the disturbing night they were about to endure. When cups fell empty, Eddie sighed and turned to the radio that rested atop of the washing machine. “Why don’t I, uh, play some music; set the mood a little.”

Call her inexperience, whatever, but Robin knew there was no way in hell the screeching voices of Slayer attested to “setting the mood” during date night. God, she felt bad for you- for straight women. “Maybe-maybe I’ll, uh, dance for you.” She dared right back.

Where Robin could judge Eddie on his music taste, Eddie could return the favor in her lack of mobility, as her body began clumsily swaying about in his kitchen, off rhythm to the already undanceable sounds to thrashing metal. Her contorting ankles in kitten heels paired with her jutting hips allowed her to mortifyingly saunter her way over to an uncomfortable Eddie, who was wielding the willpower to not bark a laugh in her face.

But Robin Buckley was not going to win this. Not when Eddie Munson’s pride stood in the way. “Mm, you look good.” He spoke so stiffly, as he defied back with a taunting grin.

“Why, thank you.” She forced out a laugh. “Y-You know, when you say things l-like that, it makes me wanna, um, rip that… Weird Al t-shirt right off.” Jesus Christ, Dustin made him get matching ones.

“Okay,” he cleared his throat, “well, uh, why don’t we move this to the bedroom then?” His brows pointed, eyes glared.

Robin immediately stopped her bizarre dancing. “Really?” Her panic settled in.

“Oh!” Eddie quickly stepped back with an impeding smile. “Do you not want to?” He urged.

“No, no.” Robin composed herself, waving him off with faux confidence. “I just, um, you know, first, I wanna t-take off all my clothes, and have you r-rub lotion all over me.” Is that what straight people do before sex?!

Eddie’s throat constricted with little air, and a tightening hand of embarrassment. “Well, that would be nice.” His voice raised a cracking octave. “I’ll, uh, go get the lotion.” Before Robin could respond, Eddie was already running away to the bathroom. Your gnawing teeth had bitten through your nail when Eddie came bustling through the door. “Okay, this is totally getting out of hand.” He fretfully groused, as he crowded your area in the small room. “She wants me to put lotion on her!” Eddie dramatically snarled.

You rebuffed his dread. “She’s bluffing!”

Eddie huffed. “Look, she’s not backing down. Jesus, shit, she went like this!” He suddenly gyrated his stiff hips harshly against you to mimic her dancing.

A couple feet away at the front door of Eddie’s trailer, Robin was in consternation, frantically rambling to Steve and Dustin. “He is not backing down! He went to get lotion!”

“You aren’t done yet?” Dustin heaved. “You’re supposed to be on my team, he should be cracking right now!”

Her angry finger flicked against his forehead, despite his insistent cries of pain. “This is all your fault to begin with!”

“Okay, will everybody just calm down for a second?” Steve hushed, where his hands found the relaxing perch against his hips, as if his motherly duties were calling. “Think of it this way, the sooner you get Eddie to break, the sooner this can all be over with.”

“Ooh, I like that.” Robin nodded along.

“Just amp the flirting, alright?” Steve coached. “Look, it took him weeks to actually approach a girl at the bar, he used to get totally flustered whenever he’d play wingman for me. How the hell managed to get Y/N? I don’t know, but all I do know is that just like you, Eddie Munson is a total dud when it comes to flirting.”

Her mouth fell agape at the insult that stung too much from the utter reality of the statement. It didn’t make her feel any better when Dustin shoved that patronizing look in her face. “Yeah, Robin, sweetie, you are not doing a good job right now.”

“How would you know? You’re fourteen!” She bellowed.

“And yet, which one of us is in a loving, committed relationship?” The kid snided.

Steve shushed Dustin away before a catfight could break out on the doorstep of Eddie’s home. “Look, you got this. Just make Munson uncomfortable! You’re a girl, you got this!”

“He’s a boy, he makes me uncomfortable!” She spat.

Ransacking his bathroom cabinets for a bottle of lotion, you hastily shoved the bottle into his grasp, and clutched onto his shoulders. “You go back in there, and you seduce her till she cracks!” Never in a million years did you think you’d encourage your boyfriend to do that. Though with this much commitment, he should really get you into Dungeons and Dragons.

“Okay, just give me a second.” He took a deep breath for composure, just as he got a good glimpse of his bathroom. “Did you clean up in here?!” Your eyes rolled, before grappling onto the doorknob, and pushing Eddie out of the bathroom. He slowly approached the kitchen, where his nervousness eased at the sight of Robin at the door. “Oh, you’re, uh… you’re going!” He smiled.

Steve Harrington's voice replayed in her head, and Robin cleared her throat to pull out the sultry crisp she was needing to flirt. “Um, not without you, lover.”

Eddie flashed her a tight-lipped smile, as he released a big sigh. “Well, uh, come here.” He beckoned. “I’m very happy we’re gonna have all the sex.”

Robin ignored the disgust in her belly to test him. “Y-You should be.” She smirked. “I’m very bendy.” Eddie’s eyebrows pulled with fright, as she stepped closer. “I’m going to k-kiss you now.”

And Eddie bothered her right back. “Not if I, um, kiss you first!” With a foot apart, Robin Buckley made her first move on a man, as her stiff hand latched uncomfortably to Eddie’s waist. Devastatingly following in line, Eddie’s fingertips barely grazed her skin, as they lightly rested onto her shoulder, neither party urging anyone to come closer. “Well, I-I guess there’s nothing left for us to do than to kiss.”

“Here it comes.” With rigid lips tucked inward, and tense bodies hesitantly pulling together, Eddie Munson genuinely began to realize how much of a idiotic idea all this was. A nauseating feeling struck him, as he understood what a lousy world it’d be to live in if he had to continue to disguise his feelings for you. I mean, going on a date with your best friend? This is the lengths he’s going to to hide something so perfect? And Robin. For the love of god, if picturing Joan Jett over Eddie’s face was needed to make this experience slightly less miserable, then, yeah, maybe this plan was stupid all along.

“Okay, okay, okay! Fine, you win!” Eddie pulled away, as Robin’s face astounded. “I will not have sex with you!” He huffed with exhaustion.

“And why not?” Robin smiled, as the victory was coming her way.

“Because I’m in love with Y/N!”

“You’re-you’re what?” The front door jolted open, as Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson hurdled their way in, but Eddie took no notice of the peculiarity in that. Not when he heard the bathroom door open behind him.

“Love her!” He proclaimed at the top of lungs. “That’s right! I love her!” Eddie pointed to you, as you made your way closer. “I love her! I’m in love with her!” And suddenly, the reality of you actually standing in front of him hit him, and Eddie realized the weight of what he just admitted to you… and his friends. Eddie took a deep breath, as he solemnly stared down at you, and in an instant, he felt his body calm at the sight of your smile. “I love you, Y/N.”

His hands took solace against your warm cheeks, where you stared up at with adoration in your eyes. “I love you, Eddie.” Your arms circled around his neck, as his desperate hands clung to your shirt to pull you into an intoxicating kiss that had you both mewling with tenderness. This was it. Eddie Munson knew love.

That was until Robin spoke. “Oh, my god, you guys! We thought you were just doing it, we didn’t know you were in love!” She gushed.

Steve shyly smiled from the back. “Dude!” He effused.

“Aha!” And then there was Dustin Henderson. “I told you! I told all of you! And none of you wanted to believe me! I was right and you were wrong!” He pompously smiled, before turning to you and Eddie. “By the way, I was the first to know! I’ve been knowing for a week after you freaks forced me to lose my dice!”

Eddie chuckled, as his hands stayed secured around you. “Actually, Dustin, Max was kinda the first to know. She found out four months ago, when she caught Y/N leaving my place at night.” He admitted. “Been blackmailed ever since; spent $20 on some damn heart-shaped sunglasses.”

“Are you kidding me!” Dustin felt gobsmacked, betrayed and abandoned, like those damn Fritos.

“Hey, but, uh, hats off to you, Robin.” Eddie smiled, offering a hand of congratulation. “Quite the competitor.” And she shook it proudly, another notch in whatever weird belt this was.

“I still can’t believe you never told me.” Dustin gasped. “I mean, seriously, Max out of all people.” Dustin Henderson, Steve Harrington, and Eddie Munson’s voices eventually faded into the background, as you managed to slip away from your boyfriend’s grasp to hold onto the hand of your best friend, while you whisked her away to the quiet corner of the living room.

“Hey, so I just wanted to apologize to you real quick.” You softly smiled at Robin. “I mean, going through all this just because I kept this from you,” you sighed, “I’m just really sorry you were forced to date my boyfriend.”

Robin laughed, as she squeezed your hand. “I’m sorry you’re forced to date him everyday.” She joked. “No, but seriously, you don’t have to apologize at all.” Her throat began to sting with the heftiness of her feelings, but she felt the warmth of fingers against hers, and Robin Buckley took her deep breath. “I understand why you did it- why you felt the need to hide.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.” She tearfully smiled. “I feel the same way, just a little different. I just, um, I know what it’s like to want to keep something to yourself, because having to come out as something you know the world isn’t going to love is scary. It’s really scary, Y/N.” Her hand tightened, as her voice cracked.

But in true Buckley style, that beautiful smile never left her face, as she told you her biggest fear. But what a shame it was that the world made her biggest fear her truest self. Your arms wrapped around her in a suffocating hug, where she let out a shaky sigh against your shoulder. “Robin,” you whispered into her hair, “I love you.” You implored. “Eddie does. Steve does. I hope you know that this town isn't worth being scared of.” You felt her shudder against you, as your hand soothed down her back. “Not when you’re so goddamn perfect.” Robin laughed, as she pulled away, clearing her eyes from any unspilled tears that threatened to stain her cheeks. “I know it’s easier said than done, but genuinely, don't waste your perfect self on what the world wants.” She digested your words, flashing you a thankful grin, as she steady to jumping nerves. “I mean, take it from the man himself, your date tonight, who’s univocally himself.”

You both turned to the kitchen, where Steve and Eddie had Dustin pinned, with a spring roll in hand, trying to shove it down the defiant kid’s mouth. “Jesus, I really am sorry you have to date him.”

You both laughed, as you watched the commotion take place. And you looked at Eddie Munson, how effortlessly beautiful he was, and how comfortable those around him came to be in his accepting presence. “He’s not too bad.” You smiled. “Now, c’mon, we have Chinese and chardonnay to celebrate!”

Finally letting the child go, Steve snagged the spring roll with a monumental bite of pleasure, before closely crowding into Eddie’s bubble. “No, but seriously, dude, how the hell did you do it?” Steve Harrington pointed to you, as Eddie Munson smiled.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #steve harrington #robin buckley #dustin henderson

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steveslevis · 8 months ago

Text

‘tis the damn season

AUTUMN

chapter contents/warnings: exes to whatever the hell this is, a little bit of smut, angst, weed and alcohol use, mutual pining, steve is an idiot and is afraid of commitment </3, barely proofread (sowwy)

w/c: 5.3k

The first big frost of the season blankets the town of Hawkins when you arrive on Wednesday night, the bits of ice glittering on the orange and brown leaves making the barren streets seem less intimidating as you make your way through your hometown for the first time in months.

There’s a sense of anticipation and dread that fills your stomach while navigating the streets you know so well, knowing you’re going to be asked the same mundane questions about college in the big city a thousand times over during the next three weeks. You know that’s not the only thing filling you with dread for the weeks to come, but keep telling yourself that’s all you have to worry about — right?

The first evening you arrive in town is jam-packed, since your friends insisted on having a so-called “Friends-giving-mas” as the night that you arrived, due to your anticipated absence on the aforementioned Christmas. You spend a few hours with your mom and dad before leaving, enlisting your mom to help you make some cookies for the party, promising you’d leave her and your dad some behind.

The clock hits 7 p.m. and you’re finally finished getting ready, having just thrown on a red velvet, long sleeved dress that hit just above your knees and your best black boots, Robin had requested everyone to look their best so she could take photos with her new camera throughout the party. You grabbed your secret santa gift and jacket, checking yourself in the mirror one last time before leaving your room.

“Alright, I’m leaving.” you call out as you bound down the stairs and into the kitchen.

“Don’t forget your cookies, sweetheart! They’re on the table.” she replied from her place next to your dad on the couch, watching some rom-com while he was dozing beside her, “if you need us to come pick you up, we will.”

You let out a laugh at her remark, knowing that you were only walking to the next house over on the road, so picking you up would be ridiculous.

“Oh, I think I’ll manage just fine.” you joke in return while grabbing the plate of cookies, “love you guys!”

—————————

The outside of the Harrington’s house is gleefully lit with warm string lights, wreaths already adorning the front windows and main door to the house in anticipation of Christmas in a few weeks. You always admired the way their house looked during the holidays, but knew it was only a cheery facade to hide the dysfunction that lay within the halls of the residence.

You knew the family all too well, having grown up next to Steve your entire life. You were the same age as him, grew up attending all the same parties as him, but ran in completely different circles than him — well, up until your senior year of high school at least.

Long story short, being best friends with Robin led to you ultimately becoming so-called friends with Steve Harrington as well. The two of you had what you now called a stupid summer fling before you left for Chicago in August, but the rest was history. The two of you had agreed to stay civil and not let the remnants of any unresolved feelings come between your friendship and the rest of the friend group.

So here you were, knocking on Steve Harrington’s front door on a random Wednesday in late November, cookies in hand as you stood there, shivering. You faintly hear Robin say that she would get the door, then hear footsteps pad towards the entrance.

You’re greeted by your best friend with the strongest hug you swear you’ve ever experienced, and you feel like you might not ever be let go if she has anything to say about it.

“Oh my god! I missed you so much.” Robin exclaims, the widest grin on her face as she grabs for your hand, “everyone’s in here, we’re just waiting on Nance and Jonathan then we’ll be ready to eat but come in! I have so much to tell you about everything you don’t even know—”

You follow behind her wordlessly, smiling to yourself as she rambles on about college applications and band and Vickie — who just so happened to be in the kitchen helping finish making the mashed potatoes so you had to be quiet — and everything that she can think to fit in a conversation to catch her best friend up on after months without. She leads you to the dining room after dropping off the cookies, where you hear two familiar voices having a very passionate conversation.

“I’m telling you, man, I’m cursed—“

“You’re not cursed, Harrington. I’m telling you, you’re just looking in the wrong place for love.” Eddie retorts to his frustrated friend, rolling his eyes at him.

“Oh yeah? And where should I be looking?” Steve snorts, haphazardly tossing forks, knives and spoons atop the napkin at each seat of the table.

“I’ve been saying ever since what happened this summer, you should be going after — oh shit, Y/N!” Eddie interjects, cutting himself off when you trail in behind Robin.

The metalhead pulls you in for a bear hug, whispering in your ear about how he promises not to ask you boring questions about college like everyone else. As you’re being engulfed in his embrace, you hear the sound of silverware tumbling to the ground from the other side of the table, followed by a string of mumbled curse words from the dropper.

You pull away from Eddie’s hug to look at where the noise is coming from, only to see Steve fumbling with a fork and spoon while trying to stand up from where he was just kneeling. Your gaze lingers on him for a moment too long, taking in everything about him that you told yourself you didn’t miss. Eddie gives you a knowing look and you roll your eyes, knowing that he’s trying to tell you to not make things weird, so you try your best.

“Stevie, how are you?” you call to him while walking around the table, putting on the best oblivious and excited face that you can.

“H-Hey, Y/N.” Steve says, feigning coolness as he pulls you in for a quick hug, nearly stumbling over his words when you use the nickname you always loved to tease him with, “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

His eyes flicker over to Robin momentarily, who shoots him a guilty grin before mouthing ‘sorry’ over your shoulder.

“Yeah, it was kinda last minute on my part, I just so happened to be coming home tonight since my finals were all at the beginning of the week. I kinda forced Rob to tell me when it would be so I could crash it,” you lie, trying to throw the blame on yourself instead of her, “sorry if I messed anything up, I-I’ll lay low and won’t eat if that messes up numbers or something—“

“No!” Steve rushes to retort, shaking his head at you adamantly, “I mean, shit—sorry. No, you’re not messing anything up at all, you know you’re always welcome here.”

The smile on Steve’s face is genuine as he speaks, but there’s a glint of sadness in his eyes while he scans yours for any sign of hesitancy. You give him a small smile in return, quickly moving your gaze from his to push down that sinking feeling in your chest you know is coming. Your chest aches as you focus your eyes downward, realizing that this night would be a lot harder than you had convinced yourself that it would be.

“Well!” Robin interjects, interrupting the growing awkward silence filling the air of the dining room where you stood. She reached for your hand while smiling over at you sympathetically, beginning to drag you towards the kitchen as she spoke, “gotta go say hello to everyone else before dinner!”

Your best friend whirled you around to the rest of the guests–which was just Nancy, Jonathan, and Vickie–who were all in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the meal.

A slew of awkward questions about Chicago ensued in the moments leading up to and during dinner, but you took them in stride as they distracted you from the bright eyed boy across the table who kept sneaking glances in your direction any chance he got. You explained your major, what you did for work outside of class time, and talked about all the new friends you met in the short few months you’d been gone. You could’ve sworn Steve’s jaw clenched at the mention of a date you went on prior to leaving for break, but you didn’t put too much thought into it.

Dinner goes by fairly quickly, and then it’s time for Secret Santa gifts in the living room. Robin begged everyone to participate, and even went through the effort of making sure you and Steve didn’t get each other, partly to not ruin the surprise of you being here and partly to diminish any awkwardness that might arise from it.

You had drawn Jonathan’s name, so you gifted him a few rolls of different camera film. Each person had to guess who their Secret Santa was, but apparently your gift was pretty obvious since he hadn’t been able to find any film like it anywhere near Hawkins, so he guessed you first.

Your turn rolled around and a small red gift bag was sat in your lap. You immediately knew who your gift was from, halfway from the grin plastered on his face and halfway from the smell lingering from inside the back in your hands.

“Thank you, Eddie.” you giggle out while pulling out four perfectly rolled blunts from the gift bag, courtesy of the best dealer in Hawkins.

“It’s always a pleasure,” he jabs back, “we can fire one up after presents if you’d like.”

You nod quickly at him, grinning widely before turning back to the circle where Robin was handing out gifts.

—————————

It’s not long before drinks are flowing and laughter is spilling through the Harrington residence, something that’s happened very few times within those halls. The night seems to go by too quickly, you notice how quickly when you check and it says 11 P.M. already, even though it feels like you’ve only been there a few hours. You’re sitting on the couch with Robin and Vickie, giggling their way through a story about some guy in the Hawkins band, when the sight of the back door sliding open and closed catches your eye.

You turn your gaze to see Steve stalking into the cold on his own, head turned down as he walks towards one of the ice-slicked pool chairs on the deck. A frown passes over your face as you furrow your brows, excusing yourself from the couple on the couch as you slip outside to follow him with your bottle of wine, one of your newly gifted blunts and a lighter in hand.

It’s the last thing you should be doing tonight, really. You shouldn’t be following Steve Harrington – the man who was too afraid to say he loved you and too afraid to commit to you – onto the porch. You should’ve stayed inside and drank some more wine with the rest of them and let yourself cut loose for once, but you just couldn’t do it. You just had to talk to him – you weren’t so sure what you wanted to talk about, but you just felt the need to.

“You alright?” was all you could slip out as you closed the sliding glass door, watching the brown haired boy from afar, making sure you weren’t making the wrong decision.

“Yeah–Yeah, just needed a little bit of fresh air.” Steve stammered, eyes widening for only a moment when he notices that it’s you that followed him outside.

You only hum in response, stepping closer to him as you sense no annoyance or anger in his voice, finding a spot on the chilled pool chair next to his. After setting down the bottle of wine you’d been nursing throughout the night, you took the blunt you’d brought as a peace offering between your fingers and waved it in front of his face.

Steve looked up for a moment, gaze shifting between the blunt between your fingers and your lips that curled up into a mischievous yet friendly smirk. His own lips perked up in a lopsided smile, raising an eyebrow at you when you brought the blunt to your lips, followed by the lighter.

“Would you like to partake?” you joke while puffing smoke through your lips, mixing with the cold puffs of breath coming from Steve’s.

“I’ll never say no to that,” he retorts, reaching to grab the blunt from your fingers.

There’s a breath of comfortable silence between the two of you as he inhales, then lets out a long exhale before focusing his gaze back onto the pool in front of him, onto the ice forming on the pool cover as a way to avoid your eyes.

“So, how’s the Stevie Harrington been faring since I’ve been gone?” you joked after a moment more of the quiet, shoving any nerves down that were threatening to force you to run back inside.

Awful, utterly dull and extremely depressing, was what Steve wanted to say.

He wanted to tell you how he fucked up so badly, how he hasn’t been the same since the last time he saw you, how he hasn’t even been able to look at anyone without thinking of you. He wanted to grab you by the cheeks and pull you in for a kiss and never let go. He wanted to scream and tell you how much he regretted ever letting you leave without knowing how he really felt, but he couldn’t now. It was too late, so he just said; “Oh, y’know. I’ve been fine. Just the same shit, different day.”

Steve wanted to kick himself for saying something so lame, something so uninteresting when the most interesting person in the world was sitting right in front of him.

“Does ‘same shit, different day’ just mean you’re stuck being the same old chauffeur-babysitter you’ve been for the last two years?” you tease, reaching down to grab the bottle of wine at your feet.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Steve chuckled, giving you a warm smile as he took another puff.

It only took a few moments to finally break the ice between the two of you, then things fell right back into place, right back into a comfortable normalcy. There was something that put you so at ease being outside with him, being able to talk to him without the looming thought of who would be the first to say “I love you” or who would be the first to leave waving over both of your heads.

The next hour went by in a breeze, and it seemed the party inside died down by the time the two of you decided to walk back in. Steve closed the sliding glass door behind you two and you noticed only Eddie and Robin were left standing in the living room. Vickie was presumably in the guest bed, where Robin was about to head to. Jonathan and Nancy had left twenty minutes prior, only popping their heads out to say a quick goodbye before driving off.

Robin said a quick goodnight to you before heading up the stairs, along with a promise to see you tomorrow for a girl’s day. Then, it was just you, Eddie and Steve in the living room, Eddie at the couch setting up his bed for the night while the two of you stood in silence by the sliding glass door still.

“I–I guess I should probably head home for the night,” you say, breaking the silence between the three of you as you start towards your bag and coat on the other side of the room.

“Why don’t you just stay?” Steve interjects a little too loudly, the weed and wine in his system instilling some false confidence in him. “It’s so cold out and I’m sure at this point your parents already think you’re staying anyways.”

You stop on your toes at Steve’s voice, cheeks heating at how interested he sounded in you staying there for the night. It’s not like it was a far and dangerous walk, Steve just wanted an excuse to be around you for longer. You turn around to look at him, then to Eddie, who was giving you a tired smile.

“We can have a sleepover on the couch,” Eddie chuckles, reaching for one of the pillows he was setting out for himself to move it to the other side of the couch for you.

“I don’t have any clothes,” you suggest, looking down at your velvet dress that would be extremely uncomfortable to sleep in.

“Oh, I’m sure Stevie has some clothes that you can sleep in!” Eddie says, shooting a smirk in his direction.

“O–Of course I do, I’m sure I still have your favorite pajama pants up there if you want them.” Steve says hurriedly, as if you would change your mind if he didn’t answer quickly enough.

You give the two of them a smile, pretending to contemplate the decision for a moment before nodding. You could’ve sworn you heard Steve let out a breath of relief at your nod, but he turned towards the stairs before you could acknowledge it. Without a word, you follow right behind him up the stairs, slowly realizing the effects of the cherry wine and weed are coming to the surface.

Steve steps into his bedroom and you follow behind him, a situation the two of you knew all too well.

—————————

You don’t know what led to this, but there you were, in Steve’s bedroom, him towering over your space on his bed as he pulled you in for a heated kiss. Tongue against teeth, hands against cheeks, legs tangled together, just like they were meant to be.

This wasn’t supposed to happen, you swore to yourself you wouldn’t come crawling back every time you were in town, but here you were.

Somehow coming upstairs for a stupid pair of pajamas led to Steve giving you that look of lust and utter desire, led to you becoming a willing participant in his games once again after swearing you would never touch him again, led to you letting him sneak his way into your heart – and pants – yet again.

Your head is spinning as he kisses you, his lips slotted into yours like they belonged there, a perfect fit. You’re unsure if it’s the wine, the weed or the sheer yearning that’s making you feel like this, but you don’t want it to stop any time soon.

There’s a gnawing feeling in your stomach when Steve props his knee up on the bed next to your hip, you know you should stop before he gets any further, but the ache between your thighs is outweighing any thought of what would come after he spreads you open.

Steve groans into your mouth when you pull him closer, fingers intertwining with and tugging the hair at the nape of his neck, and you only smirked against his lips in satisfaction. You knew everything about the boy who was turning to a puddle just from the touch of your fingers. You knew exactly how to make him tick, and him the same for you.

“Fuck,” Steve breathes when he finally pulls away from you, full lips parted as he stares down at you. There’s a twinkle in his eye that you haven’t seen in so long, one you used to mistake for love but now only know to be pure lust. “I–I’m sorry I just, I need–I need you.”

You stare at the desperate, doe-eyed man in front of you for a long moment, mind wandering to a place of fear as you think about what you’re about to do.

Instead of saying anything in reply, you close the space between the two of you once again, smashing your lips into his in a feverish and bruising kiss. Steve is on you in an instant, gently pushing you back and up on the bed, letting your head fall on his pillows. You can tell by the way he stumbles on his way up to you that he’s intoxicated — on the weed or the wine, or you, you’re not sure — but you soon realize that you are too.

A hand wanders toward the hem of Steve’s sweater, tugging at it quickly as he pulls away from the bruising kiss. He wastes no time in pulling the cable-knit up and over his head, tossing it to the side while sitting up on his knees to take you the sight of you in. Your skin was hot and your eyes were blown with lust, cheeks flushed and lips parted as you stared up at him.

You’d only been under him for a minute and had completely folded to his touch. You cursed yourself for letting your inhibitions crumble so quickly, but another part of you didn’t actually care, the same part of you that wanted to claim him as yours forever.

Steve’s eyes trailed over you, from your cheeks to the low neckline of your dress, over the curve of your hips, ending on your thighs spread on either side of his knees. The crushed velvet of your skirt bunched where your leg met your hip, letting the fabric ride up enough for Steve to see exactly what he was searching for.

He sucked in a breath at the sight of your white lace underwear beneath, having to hold himself back from diving in right that second.

“You’re so beautiful,” he groaned, hands tracing over your hip bones while lowering his lips to yours once again.

A moan falls from your lips as his meet yours, his knee coming up between your thighs, creating friction against your core.

“Fuck—Stevie,” you say, choking back a pitiful whine while grinding against his thigh desperately, “please, I need you.”

You swear you hear Steve nearly choke at your words, three words he’d been dying to hear from you for months.

“I know, I know, baby.” he coos at you, trying to keep his cool as he strains against his pants, “I’ll take care of you.”

You nod feverishly as he leans down to pepper kisses along your neck, taking his sweet time while trying not to get drunk off the scent of you.

“This—This doesn’t mean anyth—this doesn’t change anything,” he stammers between kisses, peering up at you as he speaks, “we can still stay close—keep being friends after this.”

You hum in agreement, ignoring the dread building in your gut as you do. You want to be more than friends, you want to scream at him until he admits that he loves you too. But he nearly said it doesn’t mean anything, so you’re convinced he wants nothing to do with you after tonight, nothing but a friend to laugh with and a pretty face to fuck on every break from college.

You push the thoughts from your mind, focusing on the boy in front of you as his hands begin to massage your inner thighs, inching closer and closer to your core with every circle. Steve chuckles lowly as you let out a whine of anticipation, teasing you silently as he gives in to your desires.

Steve knows your body like he knows his own, so what comes after pulling off your dress is nearly second nature to him. One large hand trails to the waistband of your underwear while the other reaches for your breast, nipple peaked from the exposure to the cold air conditioning. You moan in surprise when he wastes no time in putting his mouth to work on your other nipple, tugging your underwear down your legs simultaneously.

His fingers immediately fall to your core once you’re free of the underwear, fingertips circling the bundle of nerves at the top as you let out another whimper.

His moves are careful but quick, he knows you want to waste no more time, and you’ll whine about his teasing if he doesn’t act soon.

He’s out of his boxers in an instant, one hand keeping contact with your clit as he situates himself above you.

“You look so good like this, sweetheart.” Steve says, voice low as his eyes raked over your body, “so pretty spread out for me, all fucked out for me even though I’ve barely touched you.”

“Stevie…” you whimper, reaching a hand up to him, but he pulls from your reach with a smirk across his face.

“Tell me what you want from me,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek as he lines himself up with your slick, teasing the tip against you slowly.

“I—I need you, Steve.” you beg, cheeks flushing at the admittance, “I need you to fuck me, please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” he retorts with a smirk, sliding into you with ease.

You both let out a low moan as he bottoms out, filling you in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. You forgot how thick he was in the time you’d been gone, your body wasn’t used to the stretch of his cock inside you, but it still felt like he was meant to be there. Like he was the only one who could make you feel this way.

And you were right, nobody could make you feel that way. Nobody else could touch you and make you fall apart in less than five minutes like he could. Nobody else could get you so riled up over a few praises thrown in with some condescension (which you embarrassingly loved too much) like he could. Nobody could hold off from cumming long enough to give you three orgasms before getting one of their own like he could.

Nobody did it like he could.

This doesn’t mean anything you repeat in your mind, clinging to his arm like your life depended on it after the two of you calmed your breathing and cleaned up. You weren’t sure if you were repeating those words to convince yourself or to ease your own mind about what just went down, but you knew they stung your heart more than any fighting words the two of you had ever exchanged.

“I missed this, cuddling with you, holdin’ you like this.” was all he slurred out against your hair, pressing a sleepy kiss into the crown of your head.

“Yeah, me too.” you mumble in return, accepting the warmth of his embrace as sleep finally took you in, ignoring the gnawing pain growing in your chest.

—————————

The spice of Steve’s cologne mixes with the familiar scent of his room, filling your senses when you wake, nearly sending you into a panic. You sit upright in the bed, turning to face the boy you claimed you wanted nothing to do with romantically just a few hours ago. Steve is sleeping peacefully next to you, plush lips parted and brows furrowed as he subconsciously pouts about the loss of your touch. The alarm clock behind him read 2:03 A.M., meaning you hadn’t been out for too long, but long enough to sober you up somehow.

Shit. Shit. Shit. I gotta get out of here. Is all you can think as you stumble out from under the comforter, knowing you would never live it down if anyone found you’d slept in his bed, especially with your limbs entangled like they just were. You quickly dress in the clothes you’d originally come into the bedroom to fetch, and snuck out of the bedroom without a sound.

Before making it to the living room, you turned toward the dimly lit kitchen for a glass of water. What you weren’t expecting to be faced with in the kitchen was Eddie, but there he was, leaning against the counter with disheveled hair that probably mirrored your own.

“What a night so far, huh?” he jokes as you shoot him a knowing glare while trudging across the tiled floor.

“Don’t even start with me, Munson.” you warn, absentmindedly reaching your hand up to the cabinet for a glass while shaking your head.

“Woah, don’t get that attitude with me! I didn’t say anything,” he laughs, setting his own glass into the sink, “but that also doesn’t mean I didn’t hear anything.”

“You did not,” you snap back, eyes wide and cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he gives you a shit-eating grin, “there’s no way you heard anything because nothing happened.”

“You’ve always been such a bad liar, Y/N.” Eddie laughs, stepping out of the kitchen to walk towards the living room where the two of you would be sleeping.

A sigh escapes your lips when Eddie leaves, letting you be alone with your thoughts finally. There was an ache in your chest that wasn’t going away any time soon, and it was in that moment that you wondered if you would ever be able to get over Steve Harrington, or if you would be in a continuous cycle of hurt and comfort for the rest of your damned life.

You collected your thoughts as you downed a glass of water, throwing back two ibuprofens with the last chug for good measure, before finding your way back to the living room. Eddie was on his side on the long side of the L-shaped couch, leaving the shorter side for you to sleep on. His eyes were closed as you laid down with your feet next to his own, but you knew he wasn’t asleep yet.

“I won’t tell anyone, I promise.” you heard through the darkness after turning off the table lamp once you were settled.

“I know.” you sigh in return, staring up at the ceiling that was only lit by the streetlights flowing in from outside. “I just don’t want to live like this forever, I–I can’t keep being the secret that Steve is too embarrassed to talk about.”

“He’s not embarrassed of you,” Eddie said, voice barely above a whisper, just loud enough for you to hear, “he’s just afraid of fucking everything up even more than he already has.”

If only he could say that to my face, then maybe I’d believe it, you thought to yourself, chest tightening at just the thought of the brown-eyed boy who was fast asleep upstairs.

You don’t reply to Eddie, unsure of what to say back, unsure of what you could squeak out without breaking down.

“Goodnight, Eds,” is all you say in return, though you know you won’t be getting any sleep.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

—————————

After falling asleep for all of fifty minutes around 5 in the morning, you decided you had to leave.

The entirety of the almost four hours you laid on Steve’s couch consisted of staring at the ceiling and fighting off tears while thinking about how you regretted everything you said and did over the last twelve hours.

Coming to the Harrington house was a mistake, even stepping foot back in Hawkins was feeling like a mistake at this point.

The only words repeating in your mind were This doesn’t mean anything. This doesn’t mean anything. This doesn’t mean anything.

You eventually had enough of the self-loathing and inability to sleep, so it was time to go. It was time to hastily change out of the pajamas that smelled too much like the boy you loved too hard, and time to go collapse in your own bed. There was no telling if you’d actually fall asleep once you made it there, but that was beside the point.

It was when you finally made it back to your parent’s house, to your childhood bedroom, that you swore that you wouldn’t see Steve Harrington again for the rest of Thanksgiving break, and hopefully would avoid seeing him again for a long while, for the sake of saving yourself from another heartbreak.

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tags: @carinacassiopeiae

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stevis writes #ttds*

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ravenslvt · 9 months ago

Text

why does your best friend’s brother have to be so hot??

☆ suna rintarou x f!reader! (pt.3)☆

pt.1 pt.2 pt.4 links!!

cw: smut! porn with feelings, fluff!, oral sex f recieving, confessions, alcohol use (responsibly), reader is hot and she knows it, tiny bit of angst but not really, party!, atsumu is annoying.

you stare at yourself in the mirror, cursing trying to put the obnoxious earring backing on.

“here let me help you.” your best friend mumbles, moving your hair and easily putting the jewlery on in place.

“thanks… are you sure it won’t be too cold tonight? maybe the skirt is too much.” you pout, looking over your outfit. the only ‘going out’ clothes you really brought was a short skirt and your favorite top that you’d wear to parties back at college.

it was your last week here at the suna residence, with classes starting up again soon.

so of course, the miya twins decided to reunite everyone at their family home, and throw a party. you were at least thankful it was only a street away so no one had to drive over there.

“you’ll be fine. atsumu’s hosting, i’m sure he’ll offer to warm you up” ami giggles. you roll your eyes. the more eccentric miya twin had always pined after you back in high school. of course you never paid him any mind, your heart was always focused on rintarou.

everytime you’d go to the inarizaki volleyball games back in high school, he’d come up to you with his charming smile. ‘aww, come all this way just to see little ol’ me? how sweet!’ he’d say before his brother would come in and grab him, apologizing for his nagging behavior. what you’d never notice though, was the way rintarou would glare daggers at his friend, always flirting with you right in front of him.

you wouldn’t hear their conversations in the locker rooms back then either.

‘i think i’m gonna ask her out, what do you think, suna?’ the blonde setter comments, smirking at the brunette who sat on the bench on his phone.

he just scoffed, sounding unconvinced. ‘good luck with that.’

‘hey! what’s that supposed to mean?’ he pouts, his ego taking a blow.

‘just saying, doesn’t seem like she’s that interested in you.’ suna replies, taking a sip from his water bottle.

‘oh yeah? sounds like you’re just jealous, mister.’ atsamu’s lips quirk back up into his usual smirk.

rin’s eye twitches.

‘no way. she’s like a sister to me.’

“ami you liar, it’s cold as fuck!” you shiver slightly, holding your arms to your chest as you step out the front door, rintarou locking it behind you three.

“consequences of dressing like a hottie. some liquor will warm you right up” she beams at you, making you sigh. “i guess” you squirm uncomfortably in your outfit. the second you walked downstairs, rintarou’s eyes went directly to your bare legs in the skirt. he still seemed so nervous around you even after he’s quite literally been inside of you (twice).

“let’s go before atsumu drinks everything and starts challenging people to sing offs.” the older suna says, walking ahead of you guys on the sidewalk.

“jeez, why’s he in a mood” ami mutters to you, you just shrug, eyeing him.

rin wasn't too excited at the thought of watching guys fawn over you all night while he had to stand back and not be able to do a thing about it.

once you approach the house, you could hear music playing from the backyard. rintarou knocks on the door first, texting someone to let them know you were there.

the door opens a few seconds later, a grey haired twin smiling at you three. “look who it is! long time no see girls. suna.” he gives the man a side hug, they still saw each other from time to time after college. you noticed the way osamu’s eyes lit up when ami smiled back at him. your eyebrows quirked.

“everyone’s scattered around, mostly in the back. drinks in the kitchen, beer pong in the garadge. the usual.” he lets you guys in pointing to each area as if you all hadn’t been there before.

“thanks, samu! c’mon” ami grabs your arm, giving osamu a kirt wave before dragging you into the kitchen where a few familiar faces stood around. you two pour yourselves drink after drink, conversing with some girls you ran into.

“atsumu!” one of the girls waves behind you. you hear him approach, turning around to face him. rintarou stood across the room with the osamu, keeping an eye once he saw the blonde come up to you.

“if it isn’t my favorite girl! how are you, gorgeous?” he slings a strong arm around your shoulder. if you weren’t in such a good mood you probably would have shrugged him off.

“hi, miya” you play into it, giving him a friendly smile. but still, rintarou lingered in the back of your mind.

“miya? ouch, no need to be so formal to the future love of your life.” he puts a dramatic hand to his heart, as if he’d been stabbed. you just roll your eyes, moving his arm and stepping away from him. he puts on his usual pout, ignoring the other girls who were trying to get his attention.

“you’re funny. should be a comedian instead of an athlete.” you comment, taking a sip from the plastic cup in your hand. you ignore the familiar burning sensation of the alcohol in your throat.

“i think that’s the only compliment you’ve ever given me, i’m flattered.”

you roll your eyes at his antics. you should’ve expected this from him.

rin watches from the side, downing his drink a little too fast.

“don’t let atsumu rile you up, man. dude’s just trying to rebound from his last girlfriend who dumped him.” osamu reassures the tall middle blocker, noticing his glaring at his brother.

“rebound? he’s trying to hook up with her or something?” suna’s grip on the cup tightens at the thought of you even being near atsumu in that way.

“who knows, he’s been crushing on her since like second year. why do you care so much anyways? i thought you saw her like a- oh.” his eyes soften. he got it. the time he got lunch with suna a week ago, noticing the hickies on his neck. him mentioning that you were staying at their house over the break.

you two were fucking.

“jesus dude, does your sister know?” he questions, his voice getting a little quieter.

“huh? what, no. we’re both adults, i don’t see why…” rintarou drags on, noticing the way the blonde twin was getting closer and closer to you.

“then why do you- hey! where are you going?” the grey haired twin calls after him, but he just ignores him.

your eyes meet rin’s as he approaches. a hint of relief washing over you. osamu took this chance to chat up ami.

“what’s goin on, dude?” suna puts a hand on the setter’s shoulder.

“suna! missed seein’ you around!” the tipsy man gives his attention to his old friend, giving you a chance to slip away. you give ami some excuse like ‘need some fresh air.’ she just nods, making sure you’re good before continuing her conversation with the calmer twin. you smile at the way her face lit up when talking to him.

you sit on a loungchair by the pool, far enough from everyone. you pull out your phone, giggling at the thought of how mad rintarou would be realizing his sister and bestfriend were flirting. it was kind of ironic though, given your own situation.

your mind started to wander. were you wrong for openly lying to your bestfriend who you adored so dearly? you’d liked rin for years, but since you guys started hooking up, you’ve had a guilty conscience.

what even were you two? you weren’t dating, but more than friends. the stolen kisses you two shared when ami wasn’t in the room. the looks you give each other over dinner or when passing in the hallway. it would all be over in a weeks time. would he move on? find someone else to occupy his time?

“what are you staring at?” the low voice you know oh to well cuts through your thoughts. you realize you spaced out, staring into the changing colors of the pool lights. suna takes a seat next to you on the spacious chair.

“nothing, just thinking.” you shrug, bringing your gaze back to him.

“what are you doing out here?” you add, picking up your drink from the floor and taking a sip. he gives you a small smile.

“couldn’t let you sit out here all alone. especially if tsumu tried hitting on you again.” he watches as your lips meet the cup. your eyebrow quirked.

“hmm. someone jealous?” you smirk, placing your drink back down on the floor, your head already dizzy from all the alcohol you’ve already had. plus your close proximity to the man in front of you did not help.

he snorts. “of him? no way. if you wanted him you would’ve gone for it years ago. plus-“ he leans a little closer. “-he’s not the one who got to fuck you.” oh the liquor made him bold.

it was true, he wasn’t jealous of the setter himself. he was more jealous at the thought of anyone else having you. especially when you leave in a week.

“y’know, tokyo’s only like, three hours away from where i go.” he says. he refuses to look away from you. you just look so good.

“what are you implying?” you cross one leg over the other, leaning a little back to get a better look at him.

“i-i don’t know. just mentioning it.” you scoff at his sudden dry response. your heart feeling a small pang of hurt from remembering what atsumu told you just a few minutes ago before rin came over to save you from his nagging.

‘aw that’s cute. looking over at suna over there. y’know he told me he sees you as a little sister. such a sweet guy looking out for you like that.’ the worst part is he wasn’t even trying to be sarcastic or spiteful, just genuinely praising suna.

“right…” you sigh, standing up to leave. before you can even turn around he reaches for your hand.

“hey, what’s wrong?” his voice is full of worry. your shoulders slump, he stands to meet your height. he still held onto your hand, his thumb rubbing gently over your knuckles.

“i-i’m just drained. think i’m gonna walk back home.” your skin tingles at the way he’s so gentle with you. compared to the way he was in sports.

“let me walk you.”

“no, that’s not necessary rin.”

“you’re drunk, i’m not gonna let you walk home alone.”

“i’m not even that-“ you start, but he cuts you off with a stern scold of your own name.

“fine… but let me text your sister first.” you sigh, sending her a quick ‘don’t feel too god, rintarou’s gonna take me home. are you ok? we can stay if you want.’

she sends back a text that makes you giggle. ‘oh girl, do not worry about me’ you look up and spot her with osamu, she gives you a thumbs up. you knew you were right. she’s been wanting to hop on the samu train since high school. glad she finally got the chance.

‘don’t wait up. probably gonna stay here tonight. do NOT tell my brother he will murder me and samu both.’

you laugh at your phone, suna gives you a confused look.

“what’s so funny?”

“oh, nothing. let’s go.”

you two snuck out the back gate, not wanting to draw any attention. it was bad enough you two were walking out together, a lingering mark still on his neck from just a few days ago.

“you still cold?” he asks, your shoulders brushing as you walk down the dark street.

“nah, ami was right. tequila warms me right up.” you say. plus the close proximity to him kept you warm, his body heat radiating from under his jacket. it stayed silent for a few moments before you speak up.

“was… was atsumu telling the truth?” you say, looking up at him.

“what did that idiot say this time?” he gives a small laugh.

“that you think of me as a sister.” this makes him stop dead in his tracks. he looks at you nervously.

“do you really think we’d have done all we did if i thought that?” he says, pushing a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. you shrug, making him sigh.

“i said that shit in high school. before…”

“before what?” you peer up at him, his callused hands moving to cup your face.

“before i realized i… had feelings for you.” he confesses, making your eyes widen.

when rintarou first realized he was in love with you, it was a little later than when you developed your own crush on him. it was your eighteenth birthday, suna was nineteen and in his first year of college. ami threw you a suprise party at her house, inviting all your friends. you wore your prettiest little outfit. ami even convinced her uncle to get you guys some beers, needless to say, the birthday girl drank most of them.

when the night went on, you spotted rin nursing his own beer on the couch. you come up to him, sitting maybe a little too close than you meant to.

“why’re you sulking here by yourself. s’my birthday! i command you to have some fun, rintarou.” the way you said his name made something stir inside of him. your body faced his, you didn’t even notice the way your dress rode up on your thighs, or the way his eyes immediately went down to them.

“how’s it feel to finally be an adult?” he says, forcing his eyes back on yours.

“s’alright. kinda anticlimactic but i’m glad m’here. glad you’re here.” you admit, the alcohol clearly making you more bold. his eyes widen a little. you weren’t just his little sister’s best friend, you were a smart, funny, beautiful woman. he’s always known you were pretty, it was obvious. but he’d never had a genuine conversation with you like this.

you two talked for half an hour. everytime you’d smile or laugh at something he said, his heart beat would quicken in his chest.

your head whipped when you heard a call of your name from one of your friends. “c’mon! we got you a cake!”

he never forgot the smile you had on your face when your friends put this much effort into your birthday. it just proved what a good, special person you were. he found himself not wanting you to leave, wanting you to stay talking with him. the nagging pain in his heart when you got up to leave, giving him a cute little wave and a ‘talk to you later!’

then it all clicked.

years of glaring at any boy who approached you, smiling whenever he’d see you in the stands of his games cheering him on, the small tingle of excitment in his chest when he knew you were coming over to see his sister.

he’d loved you for so long, and he never even realized it. not until you left for college, leaving him with his own feelings to sort through. so when he found out you were staying with them over the break, god was he estatic on the inside.

you two stand only a few houses down from his. you could easily walk over and continue the conversation there, but he needed you. needed you to know how much he truly cared.

“oh” a hint of nerves crawled up your spine. your head spins. you’d been this close so many times before, but behind closed doors. except that one time in the kitchen.

but he held you in the middle of the street, not caring that anyone could walk out of their house and see you two. his forehead presses against yours, breathing in your air.

you didn’t know what to say, so you just lean up on your tipy toes and peck his lips, making him smile. he wraps his arms around your waist, not a chance of letting you pull away from him.

“rin, someone might see.” you giggle into the kiss, he just shakes his head gently.

“i don’t give a fuck, let them.”

you stand in his room. it hadn’t changed very much since the very few times you’d peeked in walking past it before. a few hoodies laid out in his chair from when he was deciding what to wear earlier.

he had a few posters on his walls, some of random volleyball teams and even some random bands. the room smelled like him.

“here, drink some water.” he walks back in, closing the door behind him as he hands you a clear plastic bottle. you take it, your hand brushing with his own. you seat yourself on the edge of his bed, tapping your foot against the carpeted floor anxiously. you take a few sips to relieve your nerves.

“you look really good tonight.” his voice cuts through the silence. your head perks up, eyes meeting his.

“so i don’t look good every other night?” you give him a playful smile. he scoffs, hopping on the bed next to you, making the mattress squeak.

“you know what i mean.” his large hand finds your own, playing with you fingers.

this was probably the first time in the last few weeks you’d been alone for this long together without fucking.

“osamu knows about… us.” his hand doesn’t leave your own. your eyebrow quirks.

“you told him?” you softly ask, not angry or demanding. if anything, you were somewhat flattered he wanted people to know.

“he figured it out. mentioned i was ‘oogling’ you too hard” he gives a small chuckle, squeezing your hand gently. his small little acts of affection always made you relax into his touch. you lead your head on his strong shoulder, sighing.

“you think he’ll tell ami?” you peek up at him, moving a peice of his dark hair away from his eyes. he just shrugs.

“probably not. even if he does it wouldn’t be the worst thing.” he kisses your forehead.

“i’d rather her find out when i’m hours away. i don’t need to be murdered in my sleep for lying to her.” you reply. he just laughs.

“c’mon. you’re the only girl she’d ever approve of me being with. she loves you, my parents love you, i-“

you cut him off with a kiss to his surprisingly soft lips, pulling him in by the nape of his neck.

he smiles into the kiss, his hands going to your waist to bring you closer.

“c’mere” he grabs your hips, helping you straddle his lap, facing him. you hold back a gasp when you feel his half hard dick

“someone’s impatient…” you mumble into his mouth, he bites your lip in retort. you try to pull back but his mouth just follows yours, hands gripping your waist for dear life so you didn’t fall right off his lap.

“look so pretty in your little skirt-“ one of his hands reaches under your skirt, groping your ass through your panties, making you gasp.

“-wanted to drag you in the bathroom and fuck you over the counter.” his kisses go down your jaw, sucking new marks into your neck and collarbones.

“jesus, rin.” your voice is needy. you unconsciously grind your hips into his, needing some some sort of friction. the action made him groan.

your breath catches in your throat when he switches your positions, you laying on your back on his bed while he stands over you. his eyes go to your lifted skirt, holding back a groan when he sees the growing wet patch on the fabric of your panties.

he breathes out your name, looking up at you while slowly kissing down your exposed thighs, kneeling down. you squirm under him, he just gives your thigh a threatening squeeze. “stay still, pretty.” his nose finds your clothed clit, making you gasp.

“y-you don’t have to-“

“shush. i want to, so badly.” he assures, licking your clothed cunt. the fabric adding to the stimulation, making you grip his sheets underneath you.

he slides your soaked panties to the side, the cool air hitting your now exposed pussy.

“always so pretty for me.” he immediately delves into your cunt, lapping up and down you folds before focusing on your clit. you let out mewls of his name, gripping at his dark locs of hair.

he brings you closer to him, his arms locking under your thighs so he’s holding you up to his mouth. he could do this forever.

he moans into your wetness, the sounds of your pleasure making him practically get off. he slowly grinded his own hips into the bed, but not letting himself cum unless it was with you.

you’d never felt like this before. the constant laps of his hot tongue compared to his mouth sucking on your clit making you clench your thighs around him. he groaned at a certain harsh tug to his hair, the vibrations on your pussy only adding to the pleasure.

what really got you close to the edge though was when his tongue prods itself into your tight hole, making you try and pull away from how overwhelmed you were with how good it felt.

“f-fuck, rin, s’too much.” your thighs start to shake around his head, but he only speeds up. his nose catching on your clit while his tongue dips into you, pumping in and out. you let out a loud moan when you start to cum around his tongue, suna not even daring to stop. if all he could eat for the rest of his life was your pussy, he’d be between your legs all day everyday.

your hips roll into his face, wetness coating his chin and nose. you have to push his head away when it starts to get too much. he pulls away, panting. he wipes his mouth with his sleeve, crawling up on top of you to kiss you. you sigh into the kiss when you taste yourself on his tounge. it got you aroused all over again.

“rinnn” you whine, hands tugging at his hoodie.

“what’s up, baby?” he kisses your cheek, a smug smirk on his face looking down at you. he looked absolutely heavenly looking over you, hands on either side of your head.

“need you” you pout up at him.

“what do you need, hmm?” he sits up on his knees to pull his hoodie over his head, his bare chest and toned abs on display. you practically moan just at the sight of him. you’d never get bored of this view.

“you- your cock… please” your hands go straight to his abs, kissing down his pecs and stomach. he chuckles at you, hand smoothing down your hair.

“want me t’make you feel good?” he pushes your shoulders back down so your back is completley pressed against the sheets. you nod frantically.

“anything for my gorgeous girl.” he slides his pants and boxers off, throwing them somewhere on the floor. while he does this you take your chance to rip your top off, along with your bra.

he crawls back over you, slotting himself between your legs. you look at him expectedly as he pulls out his already hard cock. pre cum already leaking from his raging pink tip.

he lines himself up with you, impatiently siding himself into your needy hole.

you’d never felt him from this angle before, the way he was perfectly slotted inside of you.

he slowly moves his hips, cock sliding deliciously in and out of you. your eyes screw shut.

“g-god rin, feels so good, fuck!” your hands go straight to his shoulders, not caring how badly your manicured nails were dragging down his arms.

but it wasn’t enough for him. he grabs your legs, hoisting them over his shoulders as he pumps even deeper.

“there we go. so f-fucking perfect, baby.” his breath hitched as his pace quickens, fucking into you at the perfect speed and angle.

you let out the most borderline pornographic moan when the head of his cock hits that spongey spot deep inside of you. his hand goes to pinch and tug at your nipples, making you mewl.

“rinn!” you cry out as he pounds into you relentlessly. this was by far your favorite angle with him.

“right here, pretty.” he wants nothing more than to reach down and kiss you, but he didn’t wanna hurt your poor legs. plus you felt so good he didn’t wanna move. so instead his thumb goes to your slick pussy, rubbing and pinching at your clit.

“so fuckin’ messy.” he grunts, your cunt practically trapping him in. you watch as he spits down where you two meet, adding extra lubricant. the sight made you feel so dirty, but so fucking good.

his eyes watched the way his cock entered you so insanley perfectly. like you were made to take him. the wet noises coming from your arousal whenever he thrusts in and out and the sounds of your mixed moans filled the quiet room.

his head rolls back and he groans, he wanted to kiss you so bad.

“fuck- switch. want you to ride me.” you pout when he pulls out, leaving you feeling so empty.

you sit up, as he sits leaning against the headboard. he gives his cock a few pumps when he watches you climb on him, hands on his shoulders as you line his cock up with you. his hands hold your waist for support as you sink yourself down onto him.

you let out a moan when he’s fully seated inside of you. you move off of him almost all the way, bouncing yourself up and down his cock.

“oh-“ you moan as he snaps up his own hips to meet your own. you hear as his head slams against the wooden headboard with a grunt.

he grabs your throat, bringing you in to kiss him. it was messy and needy. all tongue and teeth at how fucked out you both were. he pulls back, his hand still lingering on your throat as the roll of your hips gets faster and faster.

his eyes focus on the marks he left on your neck, running a finger over the fresh dark purple hickies lingering all over your neck and chest. then his eyes go to your bouncing tits, grabbing them and bringing one into his mouth.

you groan when he bites down.

“rin- can’t anymore. g’nna cum” you whine out, your hips getting tired and messy. he sits up more straight, grabbing your hips and slamming up into you, making your eyes roll back.

“cum all over my cock, baby. told ya i’d make you feel good.” sweat beaded up by his brow, he was focusing on his thrusts.

“c-cum inside me rin! please, wanna feel you inside.” you plead. brain feeling like it’s short circuiting, the only thing running through your brain was how good his cock felt pumping inside of you.

he kisses you as you moan into his mouth, cuming around him and squeezing his dick. he pulses inside of you, warm cum filling you up as you share eachothers moans. your kiss goes from rushed and hot to sweet and tender as you come down from your orgasms. neither one of you makes a move to pull away, his cock softening inside of you.

“again?” you pant, kissing his cheek and looking at him with pleading eyes.

you yelp when he pinches your waist, but it turns into a small whine when you feel him get hard inside of you again.

“you’re gonna kill me, gorgeous.”

the clock read 6:28 AM. the sun was barely rising, you lie on rintarou’s chest as you two peacefully slept, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. his fluffy blanket wrapped snug around you.

the front door quietly creeks open, and shuts.

“shit that was loud as fuck” a hushed high pitched voice whispers. the younger suna sneaks up the stairs, shoes in hand, expecting to find you asleep in her bedroom. but the room was empty. the house was silent, her brother’s door closed.

hmm, that’s weird. you guys came back from the party, right?

ami knocks on her brother’s door, loudly in attempt to wake him up.

“hellooo?” she asks where you are, opening the door abruptly. “did you guys not come back from the party-“

“what the fuck?!”

a/n: need suna (requests) i love this man.

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heartsforvin · 3 months ago

Text

BAD FOR BUSINESS

guys i got this idea from reading a matt sturniolo fic 🙏🏼

buckle up mfs, its a long one

pairing: vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings: smut, p in v, age gap ( r’s 23, v’s 30), use of pet names, fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, cussing, use of pet names, use of y/n, lmk if i missed anything !!

summary: when vinnie hired you on to babysit his four year old, he never expected things to take a turn the way it did

you started the job right before the boy turned one. he was the sweetest infant, and even more sweet as a toddler.

it was hard to believe it had already been three years since you started the job, it feeling like yesterday.

you show up at the household five days a week, everyday like clockwork at seven in the morning just so vinnie could be at work on time.

just like today. it was six-forty-five when you pulled up to the hacker residence, fifteen minutes early.

there was really no actual set time you had to be at the house, but vinnie did say before at least seven-fifteen.

knocking on the door softly but loud enough to be heard, you waited for the man to answer.

you were met with the man on the other side, giving you a greeting smile.

you would never admit this to anyone but you always thought vinnie was attractive. with his blonde curls, strong bone structure, and not to mention the obvious muscle.

he still portrayed that ‘dad bod’ but it wasn’t as obvious as most.

“goodmorning ms l/n,” he smiles. “come on in, wes is still asleep but i’m sure you don’t mind.”

you smiled back with a nod as you walked into the house. it wasn’t big, a single story with only two bedrooms, perfect for vinnie and his son.

over the years you came to find out their story. you found out that vinnie’s girlfriend at the time had just up and left the baby as his responsibility.

it was clear he needed the help, and daycare was just too expensive for him to handle, so he decided to hire an ongoing babysitter.

that’s where you come into play. three years ago you had found this ad on a website, clicked on it and read the description.

once you did you knew you had to at least interview for the family, you didn’t ever expect to be hired.

now here you were three years later, wesley had become someone you truly loved like your own son.

“should i wake him up if he sleeps in a little too late?” you asked the older man as you set your things down on the kitchen counter.

vinnie shook his head. “no, not unless it’s past ten.” he informed.

you nodded and watched as vinnie grabbed his things off the counter. he had tattoos run along his hands that you swore was the hottest thing.

shaking your head, you look at the man across from you as he repeats his words you didn’t hear.

“there’s yogurt and strawberries in the fridge, strawberries are all cut up so all you have to do is serve them. you know he’s going to want apple juice with his breakfast so — water it down.” you cut him off with a smile.

vinnie returns the smile and nods. “right. i’ll be home probably about five-thirty, six so i’ll see you then.”

the two of you say goodbye and that’s when you go and sit down on the couch a bit until the boy wakes up. it was around seven-twenty in the morning so you knew it would be at least an hour or two before he wakes up.

⋆.ೃ࿔*

about an hour later you saw the young blonde peek into the livingroom, wide smile across his face when he noticed you were there.

“y/n!” he exclaimed as he ran up to you. you scooped him up in your arms and kissed his head.

“morning, wes. sleep good?” you asked as the boy squirmed out of your arms and sat beside you on the couch.

with a nod to his head, you smiled. standing up, you grabbed his hand and helped him off the couch before saying, “your dad got breakfast all ready for you, you hungry?”

the blonde smiled widely as you helped him down and ushered him into the kitchen.

you grabbed his booster seat and sat him in it before going to the fridge and grabbing the yogurt and strawberries for his breakfast.

“here you go wes. you want your apple juice?” you knew his answer but just thought to check in case there was a chance he didn’t want it.

like always, wesley smiled as he asked politely for the drink. your went to pour it in a sippy cup and watered it down just a bit like always.

handing it to him, he thanked you as you ruffled his hair with a smile. you had eaten breakfast on the way here so you decided to sit at the table and wait for the boy to finish.

once he was done you cleared the table and helped him out of his seat. you put it back in its respective spot and then took the blondes hand and told him it was time to get dressed.

“which shirt today, dinosaurs or trucks?” you asked the boy as you held up two shirts.

he looked between the two before pointing to the one in your left hand. “dino’s!”

you laughed and smiled as you put the other shirt away. after dressing him, you told him you had to clean up the kitchen and to stay in his room to play with his toys until you got done.

once done with cleaning up the kitchen, you decided to take wesley to the park. it was a pretty nice day out, plus it was the last few weeks of summer so you wanted to make sure he got all his time outside in.

“hey wes, you wanna go out to the park? you can bring your car with.” you ask, the boy’s eyes lit up at the last words you said.

for wesley’s fourth birthday vinnie had gotten him one of those battery operated toy cars. wesley loved it the minute he saw it and was outside for a good two hours riding it around that day.

after getting very excited about hearing he could bring his car with, wesley immediately ran to the kitchen to wait for you.

you laughed at the boy's excitement as thee two of you made it out to the garage.

opening up the garage door, you got the car out and wesley immediately got into the toy car and drove out of the garage.

"hold on bubba, gotta close the door." you informed the boy, seeing as he was already halfway down the driveway.

after closing the garage door the two of you were off to the park. it wasn't that far from vinnie's place, so it was perfect walking distance.

once arrived, wesley stopped his car and you watched as he made his way to the slide.

as you watched the boy, your thoughts immediately went to the older blonde man, more specifically, how attractive he really was.

you shouldn't be thinking like this, especially since he was your boss, not to mention years older than you, but you couldn't help yourself.

you wondered if he thought about you the way you did him. he couldn't have though, he's acted nothing but professional to you for the past three years.

you've always thought about what it'd be like to be in a certain situation with him. how would he react? would he be polite and push you away, or would he give in?

that's what you had to find out.

⋆.ೃ࿔*

back at the house, it was around five-forty-five and you were getting wesley ready for dinner. he had demanded chicken nuggets and mac and cheese to you on your guys' way home from the park.

you of course couldn't tell him no, so here you were, preparing everything for his dinner.

after getting the boy into his booster seat, you finished up cooking the mac and cheese before serving some in a bowl to him, the chicken nuggets were served soon after that.

"had a good day today, wes?" you ask as you sit down at the table with him.

wesley smiles and nods. "when's daddy gonna be home?" he asked you before scooping up mac and cheese.

you checked your phone for the time before answering him. "soon, bub, probably after you're done eating."

wesley smiled and continued to finish his food. about twenty minutes later vinnie walked into the door and wesley immediately ran up to him.

"hey bud!" vinnie said as his son hugged his legs.

vinnie set his things down and picked up his son. "had the best day!" wesley exclaimed to his dad.

you watched with a smile as wesley told vinnie all about your day today. vinnie flashed you a smile and for a minute your plan was working.

"alright bud, go in your room and play for a bit while yn and I talk, okay?" vinnie said as he put the boy down.

wesley ran to his room while you and vinnie watched. once he left you started to clean up the dishes from dinner.

you watched as vinnie rounded the other side of the island and took a seat on one of the barstools. "you don't have to clean up, you're good to go home for the day." vinnie informed.

you smiled and shook your head. "its alright, i don't mind," you told him. "plus you worked all day, it's the least i can do."

vinnie noded and just stay put. after dishes were done you had offered to bathe wesley to help out once more before leaving.

"you don't need to do all that." vinnie says as he takes a sip of his drink. "I can bathe him, he is my son of course." he laughs.

it was the first real laugh you've gotten to hear in years, and you had to admit that you loved hearing it.

although, he was right, you definitely did not have to wash wesley up, vinnie could do it himself. you just loved spending time with both vinnie and wesley, you couldn't help it.

"okay, let me just say goodbye to him and i'll be out of your hair." you tell the man before you walked out of the room.

once you left, vinnie let out a heavy sigh, thanking everything that you left when you did. recently he's been having thoughts no boss should have about the person they've employed.

thoughts like how pretty you are, how pretty you looked in your bathing suit that one summer when he had invited you over to swim because wesley wouldn't stop asking for you.

"fuck." he cursed under his breath, now trying to not get a tent in his pants before he sees you for the final time.

⋆.ೃ࿔*

the next day you arrived at the house exactly at seven. knocking on the door, vinnie opened it moments later with his eyebrows furrowed.

"shit I'm sorry, i forgot to tell you wesley's at my parents house today. you don't have to work today, go home and take the day off." he informed with a smile.

you smiled too, that's when you took in his appearance; tousled hair and sweats, no shirt.

your breath caught in your throat at the sight. you hadn't seen him like this since that summer he invited you over for a little pool party with wesley.

vinnie notices how you react and chuckles. "this looks unprofessional, know," he breathes. "i just needed a day to myself, i know it sounds selfish but it's true."

you shrug it off. "don't need to explain yourself, it's fine i understand." you tell him with a smile.

vinnie returns the gesture. "well i guess i'll get going," you sigh. "thank you, i'll see you tomorrow."

vinnie smiles before he watches you walk off, that was until he called you back over.

"hey actually if you'd want, i could have some help around the house a bit." he tells you, opening the door for you.

you walk into the house and set your things down on the counter. vinnie comes up behind you, hand gliding against your back before he faces you.

he's still in his sweatpants and no shirt. he looks at you and takes in your outfit.

a nice baby blue sundress paired with black converse. he loved how you dressed cute but also a bit casual too.

"so uhm," vinnie clears his throat, making you smile. "you can start with whatever you want first, no rush and you definitely don't have to do this." he explains.

you smile as you start to walk over to the kitchen sink, vinnie follows in suit and sits at the island chair that faces you.

you start with the dishes that are already in the sink before going to the ones on the counter

"what'd you guys do last night after i left that has the sink overflowing?" you ask with a small laugh.

vinnie reciprocates, laughing with you before answering. "wes wanted cookies before bed, unfortunately he makes it hard to say no and so i gave in."

you laugh, the four year old can be very persistent with things. as you continue with the dishes, you can feel vinnie's gaze linger on you.

he watches as you wash the dishes then set them on the counter to dry. watches as you glance over at him and starts smiling.

he smiles back, not even hesitating before he does, almost like its on cue, an instinct.

"you're beautiful, you know that?" he doesn't know what possessed him to say that, but he's glad he did.

the reaction he gets out of you is one he suspected, your cheeks tint to a red color, smiling wide as you look at him.

"thank you, vinnie. you're not so bad yourself, even when looking casual." you return the compliment.

you both don't know what is going on right now, this was extremely unprofessional, at least it felt like it.

vinnie didn't care right now though. he'd been having these thoughts about you for so long, he needed to act on them.

taking a bolder approach, he stands up and rounds the other end of the island so he's now by you. you turn to face him, and that's when you notice the slight stubble on his face.

you thought it made him look sexy, paired with his tattoos, you almost didn't want to give in.

his hand travels to land on your waist, you look down at the placement and that's when vinnie asks, "is this okay?"

it shouldn't be, but it sure does feel okay. nodding your head, you give him a verbal response too, just so he knows.

his other hand cups your jaw and that's when you watch as he leans in, so you do the same until you're met in the middle.

the way his lips felt on yours was like nothing youve experienced before. it was needy, hungry, like you've both needed this for so long.

its almost like you did, you've both imagined this moment too many times, and finally acting on it almost felt unreal.

"jump." vinnie says against your lips. you do as told, jumping up so you're now in his arms.

none of you break apart as you feel him gently place you on the counter. his next movements however were not so gentle.

a gasp slips out of you when you feel his hand come in contact with your clothed pussy. he smirks up at you, watching your head tip back as his finger presses against your clit.

"vinnie." is all you muster out, it coming out as more of a moan.

vinnie smiles as he continues to rub at you through your panties. he watches as you widen your legs for him and bite your lip.

"let it out, baby. its only us, let me hear you." vinnie says, making you let out a loud moan once he circles your clit again.

carefully, he pulls your panties to the side and chuckles softly when he sees how wet you are already.

"barely touched you and you're already this wet f'me? dirty girl." he rasps before gliding his finger over your folds.

a whine slips from you and he smiles up at you, standing to give you a quick kiss before going down on his knees.

the sight in front of you almost makes you let go right then and there. vinnie's head disappears from your view and under your dress.

he grabs the waistband of your panties and pulls them down, tossing them on the floor somewhere before dipping his head between your thighs again.

you feel his fingers on you again, making you moan out his name for the second time. vinnie smiles to himself before easing his middle finger into you.

"shit," you moan, holding onto the edge of the counter. "vinnie, please."

he removes himself from between your legs and looks up at you, asking what you want. "you want more?"

you nod an he happily obliges, dipping his head back under. this time, his middle finger and mouth make contact with you.

his finger his sliding in and out of you at a rapid pace as his tongue prods at your clit, eliciting moans out of you.

soon, he gets antsy and lifts himself up again. "can i take this off?" he asks, referring to your dress.

you nod with a smile and before you know it, its off in a second. he asks to take your bra off too, to which you do for him, landing somewhere in the room.

his hands immediately find your chest, taking both of your breasts in his hands and squeezed them, making your head tip back.

he kisses from your lips all the way back down to where he was moments prior. his mouth lands on you again and you grip his hair, tugging softly which makes him groan into you.

"taste so good, princess." vinnie mumbles against you as his tongue laps up your juices.

you push his head into you more, causing a groan from him and moan from you at the feeling. you feel his ring finger enter you and that's when the pleasure intensifies.

"vinnie, g-gonna-" you're cut off by a whine as you feel his finger hit that one special spot.

vinnie looks up at you, continuing his actions as he speeds up his pace on you.

before you can utter the words to him, you're summing on his face in a second. vinnie lifts off of you and smiles, making you smile with him.

"so fuckin' good, baby," he breathes out before kissing you. "stand up f'me."

you do as told, hopping off the counter and standing up. before you have the chance to speak, vinnie's turning you around so you face the counter.

"gonna let me fuck that pretty pussy? huh, sweetheart?" you can't even answer him, the tone in his voice already making you wet.

you nod as you feel his hand make contact with your ass. his sweats pool to his ankles, letting his cock spring free and smack against his abdomen

"gonna give it to you so good, baby." he whispers in your ear as he strokes himself a few times.

you wiggle your ass just to tease him, he smacks it again before asking if you're ready.

with verbal conformation, you tell him you're ready and that's when you feel him push into you for the first time.

"shit, feel so fucking good already, don't know if i'll last." his words make you smile as you bite your lip.

vinnie grabs your hips and starts to move in and out of you at a slow pace. you grip the counter, already feeling like it's too much.

"so big." is all you can say, making vinnie smirk.

his thrusts soon become needy and face paced as time went on. when you noticed, you moved your ass back on him, making him moan.

"that's it, fuck yourself on my cock. good girl." the praise goes straight through you, making you whine in pleasure.

vinnie kisses your shoulder as he fucks into from behind. he can't believe this is happening. he doesn't want it to end.

his hands move from your hips to your chest in an instant, squeeing both of your tits as he thrusts into you.

"feel so good princess," he rasps. "god we should've done this sooner."

you smile at his words and agree. even though this is completely wrong, it feels so right.

"vinnie," you whine when you feel his thumb rub circles on your clit. "baby please."

he takes that as a sign that you're close and his pace along with his thumb on your clit becomes harsher.

"give it to me baby, come on. be a good girl and cum all over my cock."

his words only spur you on more and before you know it you're doing as told. a loud moan rips from you as you let go on vinnie's cock, making him smile as he reaches his release.

with a few more thrusts he cuts deep inside you with a moan followed with it.

"fuck." he says once he catches his breath.

he grabs your dress off the floor and helps you put it back on. he grabs his pants and puts them on himself after.

"that was.." you trail off with a laugh, not even knowing the correct words to use.

vinnie laughs with you, also not knowing the right words to use to explain what just happened.

you fix your hair and dress before you hear the doorbell ring. both you and vinnie go wide-eyed when you hear the door open and the sound of his son's voice.

"shit." he mutters. you watch as he quickly picks up your bra and puts it in your purse.

wesley comes around the corner just in time, followed by vinnie's parents. they've met you before so you say hello before grabbing your things.

"I should head out. thank you again vinnie for letting me help out, i'll see you tomorrow." you say to the blonde man.

he walks you out real fast and as you two are alone, he kisses you quickly. "see you tomorrow."

you smile and walk to your car, checking your purse for your keys. that's when you realize you left something on the kitchen floor, no doubt one of the three people who just walked into the house finding it.

tomorrow's going to be an awkward day.

hiii this has been in my drafts for months so i’m glad i finally got it out !!

i switched to writing on my new laptop but some things i do still have to do on my phone but majority of my writing will be from there (not like you can tell LOL)

but i hope you guys liked this !! i loved writing it <33

tags: @cosmicanakin , @anqeliclust , @sturnioloshacker , @khackerr , @42angelgirl , @visualbutterflysworld , @slvthrs , @leqonsluv3r , @bernelflo , @kriissy4gov , @laylasbunbunny , @khxna , @0strawberrysorbet0 , @defnotayonna , @supabhad , @kayleighh , @hallecarey1 , @violet0182 , @skye-44 , @eddieslut69 , @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom , @miilzzy , @jpg3 ,

#vhackerr #vincent hacker #vvhacker #vinniehacker #vinnie hacker smut #vinniehackerfanfic #vinnie hacker blurb #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker imagines #vinnie hacker #vinnie x reader #vhacker #vinnie x y/n #vinnie hacker headcanon

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heartpascal · 2 years ago

Text

check under the doormat

▹ — joel miller x platonic!f!reader + tommy miller x platonic!f!reader

▹ — summary: settling down fully in jackson means new friends, and more patrols. what could go wrong?

▹ — a/n: 9.7K words here guys … and i cannot tell you what is in here. anyway. hopefully its decent. i feel like i just have very little memory of writing all of this, tis all a BLUR!! one second it was two paragraphs, the next its this??? anyway. hope yall enjoy (pls be nice)

▹ — warnings: angst (as always), blood, injuries, food & food hall, teasing, infected + humans, canon typical violence ofc, father figure miller bros, slight suggestion of a dead horse, swearing, not proofread

▹ — general taglist: @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915 @erensloveinterest @dazedshoon @faceache111 @randomhoex

masterlist | PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

howl’s song association!

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

As much as you had grown to love the town of Jackson, one thing that you couldn’t seem to grow fond of was how loud and obnoxious the dining hall was. You understood, of course, a community eating space where people could socialise and eat and enjoy the company of other residents, it was going to be loud.

But you hated it.

You were used to quiet eating times, or at the very least, quieter. Before Ellie, eating times often remained silent, rushed, especially when you were out on a trip with Joel and Tess. There hadn’t been time to chat. Even when Ellie had tagged along, it wasn’t too loud, because she was mostly forced to talk to herself.

With the Millers, it remained somewhat peaceful at dinner time, the occasional teasing before you focused on shoving your food into your mouth, never quite getting the hang of slowing down. After all, you’d always lived life in a rush, constantly forced to hurry up when eating to save daylight.

In the hall, people laughed and talked and even shouted. It was off putting for you, and you couldn’t quite grow comfortable around it, even when you tried to sit as far away from the rowdy groups as you could, taking a table that sat right along the edge of the room, opposite where you grabbed food.

Most people in the town gravitated towards the noise, crowding in the middle of the room, which was why you were so surprised when you saw someone sit down at the other side of your table, placing a plate in front of them and gazing at you from the corner of their eye.

You looked up from your plate, eyebrows furrowed when you looked at the boy sat opposite, confused why he sat at your table when there were still multiple free.

“Hi.” He said, a grin on his face, and he tapped restless fingers against the table, waiting for your response.

“…Hi.” You replied after a minute, though it came out as more of a question, your confusion evident through both your voice and your expression. The boy grinned wider, and held a hand out over his plate.

“I’m Jesse!” Jesse told you, shaking your hand firmly when you slowly reached toward his extended palm.

“Okay?” You said, watching with even further befuddlement as the boy picked up his cutlery, and began eating, looking at you expectantly. With a slight huff of an awkward breath, you told him your own name, your eyes darting around the room as he grinned widely, showing off some of the half-chewed food in his mouth.

He stayed at your table for the entire meal, until eventually he was waved away by somebody sat toward the middle of the hall. He’d been mostly quiet, other than a comment here or there which hadn’t required a response, mostly talking about how loud the other residents were. When he left, he waved wildly, not faltering even as your hand remained on the table.

You blinked down at your empty plate, completely perplexed by what had just happened.

Two days later, in the dinner hall during lunch time, it happened again. Jesse sat opposite you, his plate full of food in front of him, and he grinned in your direction, as if it answered all of your questions.

“You know, it’s much nicer in here during lunch.” He commented, looking around at the slightly quieter room, his gaze lingering on the group sat in the middle of the room. Jesse moved his eyes to look at you, almost expectantly.

“I guess.” You answered, after a moment of reluctance, and shoved another forkful of food into your mouth when Jesse grinned with a shake of his head.

“You’re not very talkative, are you?” Jesse asked, amused. When you just shrugged your shoulders, hoping he’d take the hint, he continued. “Y’know, I don’t really see you around town much. I’m quite the social butterfly.” He snickered at his own words. “You don’t even eat here every day.”

“Yeah, and?” You asked, voice snarky and matching your unimpressed expression.

“Just saying.” He said, shrugging his shoulders in defeat, or so you had thought. “Where do you live?”

“Isn’t that a creepy thing to ask?”

Jesse put his hands up, tilting his head and clearly trying his best to give an innocent look. “No, it’s a small town. Most people know just because everyone is a neighbour’s neighbour.”

“Clearly not that small.” You said, and he snickered again at your response, amusement lingering in his eyes.

“Guess not.” He shrugged, shoving more food into his mouth, and you stared at him for a moment longer, before getting back to eating your own food.

It continued like that for three weeks after the first time Jesse sat with you — he’d sit opposite you, comment about the dining hall, maybe tell a joke or two. He’d ask you questions that you wouldn’t give a clear answer to, and you’d raise your eyebrows at him for all of his strange behaviours. You thought he would’ve caught on that you weren’t all too interested in entertaining him, but each time you were in the hall, he sat at your table.

You hadn’t realised quite how used to his presence you had become until you were sat in the dining hall one evening, and he didn’t show up. You tried to pretend that you weren’t searching for his face each time the doors swung open, but realised it was likely obvious you were searching for someone.

For two days, he hadn’t showed. You pretended you weren’t concerned.

Until it came to the third day, where you had arrived to the dining hall late after facing questions from Tommy as to why you weren’t eating at theirs as often, and there he was. Sat at the table you usually occupied, his head snapping up the moment you swung the door open.

You sighed, something closer to relief than annoyance, because you didn’t mind his mindless comments. As much as it surprised you, you didn’t find his presence all that off-putting.

As soon as you had grabbed your own plate of food, you made your way over, sitting opposite Jesse. He perked up at your presence, lowering his fork from where it had been pushing food around his plate. Your eyebrows furrowed when you saw his face, littered in cuts and scrapes, a plaster covering his forehead.

“What happened?” You asked, before you could think better of it, and he rolled his eyes with that all too familiar grin.

“Aw, you worried about me?” He teased, his hand shooting out to grab your arm when you reached to pick up your plate, moving to stand. His teasing stopped quickly, and a smile quirked at your lips. “Okay, okay. It’s embarrassing.”

“Well now you have to tell me.” You reasoned, slightly amused already at the prospect of whatever humiliating thing had gotten Jesse in such a rough shape.

“I… fell off of a horse.” Jesse said, and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, despite the way he immediately frowned, defensive. You probably shouldn’t be laughing — given that the one lesson of horse riding you’d had with Tommy hadn’t gone so well. “It’s not funny!” He defended, but a smile was creeping up on his face.

“It’s kinda funny.” You responded, still grinning at the image of Jesse just going face first off of a horse. “Okay, it’s really funny.”

“You…” Jesse trailed, shaking his head. “After all my jokes, me falling off of a horse is what makes you laugh?”

You shrugged, an amused look on your face, and said, “Maybe you need to get better jokes.”

Jesse gasped in offence, holding a hand to his chest as if the words had physically pained him, and you shook your head at his dramatics. You were glad he was okay, because you almost enjoyed his presence, on occasions.

“So this is why you wanted to come to the dining hall, huh?” Came a voice from your left, and you snapped your head over to look at Tommy with widened eyes. He was grinning, a teasing smile growing wide on his face, and he laughed. “Oh, I cannot want to tell Maria.”

“Tommy!” You hissed, scolding, your cheeks growing warm at his words. It wasn’t like that — you just wanted to know if Jesse was okay. You mildly enjoyed his jokes, sue you, and it was nice to be around a non-Miller, even for just under an hour a day. “What are you doing here?” You asked, dropping your cutlery onto your plate and glaring at the man.

“Thought I’d save Maria cookin’ and grab some food from here.” He snickered, “Had no idea what I’d be walking into.”

“Oh, are you—” Jesse started, but you cut him off with a stern look.

“No. Tommy, go away.” You ignored the way Jesse was laughing to himself, his grin wide as he looked between you and the Miller man. “Shut up, Jesse.”

“How’s the injury?” Tommy asked, amused, his grin widening when you looked between the two of them, confused. You were sure your face couldn’t get warmer — you would never live this down, you were sure. Tommy wasn’t one to let things go.

“Better,” Jesse grumbled, and you felt the slightest bit better that he felt embarrassed over his horse-related injury. “Had her worried, apparently.”

“I was not worried.” You defended, immediately, and turned to glare at Tommy, repeating your words. He just gave you a disbelieving look. “I hate you both. I’m going home.”

You stood, grabbing the plate of food and heading towards the stack of dirtied dishes. You ignored the way the two of them were still snickering behind you.

“Oh, come on,” Jessie called out to you, almost shouting your name, his grin not faltering even as you sent him a dirty look over your shoulder. “Where are you going?” He asked, standing and following you, with Tommy trailing behind whilst shaking his head.

“Don’t you have a wife to feed?” You asked Tommy, eyebrows raised, and grinned tightly when he swore, heading over to get a serving for himself and Maria. “And you, go away.” You told Jesse, looking at him flatly when he just smiled at you some more, clearly very entertained by Tommy’s arrival.

“Why’re you embarrassed? You’re allowed to have friends!” Jesse responded, following behind you as you scraped off the remnants of food on your plate.

“We’re not friends.” You grumbled, shoving the cutlery into the elected trays, before placing the dirty plate on top of a pile of three.

“Hmm, I don’t believe that. You like me.” Jesse laughed, unable to wipe the smile off of his face even as you shook your head, making your way to the exit. “It’s true! We are friends. Admit it!”

You rolled your eyes, the smile tugging at the edge of your lips, but you refused it, not wanting Jesse to have the satisfaction.

He followed you out of the dining hall, still going on, “Admit it!” In a sing-song voice. It was incredibly annoying.

“Nothing to admit. Now go away.” You responded, turning your head to look at him as he followed along. “I could be leading you to a dark alleyway to murder you, you know.”

“You wouldn’t. You know why?”

“Why’s that?” You asked dryly.

“Because we’re friends.”

You scoffed out a laugh, unable to help it, because he really was kind of contagious. You stopped, turning fully around to see him grinning to himself.

“If I agree, will you go away?” You asked, eyebrows raised as you crossed your arms in front of your chest, forcing your expression to flatten into something closer to serious.

“Maybe.”

“Fine,” You drawled, rolling your eyes, “You, the weird guy who sits at my table uninvited all the damn time, are my friend.” Despite the way you had described him, Jesse still smiled blindingly at your admission, his whole face lighting up.

“I knew it!” Jesse yelled, putting his arms in the air victoriously, and you shook your head, holding the bridge of your nose with one hand as he cheered. “You couldn’t resist my charming nature, beautiful looks, and unbeaten survival skills.”

You looked flatly at him, “You’re annoying, look like shit, and the only skill you’ve shown off, is how many pieces of bread you can fit in your mouth without choking.”

“Wow, harsh.” Jesse said, though his grin didn’t fall.

“Don’t take it personally, kid.” Tommy said, making you both turn to see him, two boxes of food held in his hand. He grinned, and nodded his head toward you. “She’s a softie, really.”

Your flat look just made Jesse snicker, and you shot him a glare. “You’re both annoying.”

“Mhm, whatever. Now get. Maria will wanna see you. Get yourself home, Jesse.” Tommy said, shooing Jesse away and shaking his head as the boy shot off with a wave, and a “See you later, friend.”

“I’m coming to yours, then?” You asked with a roll of your eyes, elbowing him in the ribs when he moved to stand at your side. “Asshole.”

“Hey! Watch your language!” He scolded, though there was no force to the words.

“Yeah, okay, Dad.” You snickered, shooting him an amused look at the joke you’d made, before you continued on in the direction of his house. You missed the way he raised eyebrows, something like shock on his face.

“God, I am gettin’ old.” He mumbled to himself, shaking his head before he set off behind you.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“This is so unfair.” Jesse told you, sulking as he walked by your side, loose stones crunching underneath your feet. You just smile, almost smug, as you turn your head to see his frown.

“It’s not unfair.” You said, rolling your eyes when Jesse only pouts, slowing his pace to keep up with your own. “I’m just better. And Tommy can’t say no to me.”

Jesse slows as you approach the stables, seeing Tommy stood impatiently, his foot tapping against the ground as he waits for you to meet him. When he stops, you stop, turning to the boy who had adopted the tendency to follow you wherever you went.

“Be careful.” He warned, expression turning serious, though his pout remained.

“Jesse, I’ll be fine. I know what I’m doing.” You told him, waving off his concern with a casual pat to his arm. He frowned, and you rolled your eyes at him. “Seriously, calm down.”

“I’m calm!” He defended, a pitch too high to actually make the statement believable. “Can’t believe you get to go out on actual patrols. I’m still stuck on stupid kid training.”

“You are a stupid kid.” You snickered when he shoved your shoulders. “You’ll be out there with me, soon enough.”

Jesse rolled his eyes, about to respond when Tommy called your name, his impatience growing, and he moved to walk over. “I’m coming!” You yelled back to him, huffing at his impatient nature. “I’ll see you later, okay? To tell you all about my badass shooting.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Don’t die.” Jesse said, and you waved him away as you made to go over to where Tommy was looking at his wrist expectantly. You snickered.

“You do know you’re not wearing a watch, right?” You asked as you approached the man, taking the rifle he held out for you without a second thought. You put it over your shoulder.

“Don’t need to be wearin’ one to know that you’re late.” He scolds in response, and you roll your eyes, not paying him much mind seeing as you were before the time he’d actually told you. Tommy just liked to complain.

With a scoff, you followed him into the stables, where the man working there for the day handed off two horses. He passed you the reigns to a dark brown horse, and you smiled, petting her on the nose.

The walk down to the gate was quiet, and you pretended not to notice Tommy glancing at you multiple times out of the corner of your eye. You knew what he was hoping for, but he wouldn’t be getting it today.

A group of those on patrol had already gathered, only a few missing, and you huffed at how early these people liked to be. The assignments had been handed out already, and a woman came over to whisper your assignment to Tommy, giving him a tight smile after she had glanced at you.

“You sure about this, kid? No shame in backin’ out, goin’ home.” Tommy told you, sighing heavily when you shook your head immediately.

“I’m doing this, Tommy. Where we headed?” You asked, watching people start to get on their horses, and head out of the now-open gate.

“C’mon. Goin’ on a trail through the woods, got a cabin out there, needs checking out.” He told you, helping you get onto the horse as you struggled to get up. You got comfortable on the saddle, smiling at him.

With a heavy sigh, he got on his horse, and led the way out of the gate.

You’d guess that he had staked out this route before he allowed you on it. It was tame, barely a sound in the woods other than a few birds chirping away. You shouldn’t have been surprised, it was definitely a Tommy thing to do. Well, a Miller thing, if you thought about it. You knew Joel had done the same thing back when you’d been with him and Tess at the QZ, before he’d let you come on any smuggling trips.

You didn’t mind it, really.

The gun still slung over your shoulder was a comforting weight, and you were just glad to be holding a weapon once again. It was heavier than the ones you were used to, contained more ammo than you could’ve dreamed of, back in the QZ days. It felt good.

Tommy stared at the woods around you, glaring as if he was daring anything to come out of them. It was almost funny. If you weren’t on edge, surveying your surroundings, you might’ve laughed. But you were on this patrol only because he had allowed it, and you were going to prove yourself.

The cabin Tommy had told you about finally came into view, after around an hour of riding, and you raised your eyebrows. You were expecting it to be… more intact, for whatever reason.

With walls made up of rotten wood, and a half burnt down barn, it definitely fit the image of a shack, rather than a cabin. The door was on the ground in front of the frame, and the fence surrounding the property may as well not be there, with how many gaps were in it.

“Well… it’s something.” You offered, pausing your horse behind Tommy’s as he stopped, staring ahead.

“Okay, let’s check it out. We’ll leave them here.” He told you, gesturing towards the horses as he swung his leg over his own, stepping onto solid ground. You did the same, letting Tommy grasp your bicep to keep you steady as you managed to get down. He took the reins of your horse, tying it loosely to a branch not far from his own horse. “Got your knife, too?” He asked, when watching you grasp your gun.

“No, Tommy, you forget that you guys took all my stuff when I first got to town?” You drawled, looking flatly as him, and he returned your expression, rolling his eyes before relenting, giving you a switchblade he’d had shoved in his pocket. “What about you?”

He unsheathed a larger blade from his thigh, waving it in your direction, and you rolled your own eyes at him, reminding yourself to not care about his safety, next time.

You put the knife in your own pocket, and gripped your gun with firm fingers as you followed behind the Miller man, eyes set as you kept an ear out for anything moving around.

The floorboards to the cabin creaked as he stepped inside, and you both cringed, stilling. When nothing came around the corner to try and kill you, Tommy glanced back at you, nodding to continue. The good thing was that there were no signs of clickers, no telltale clicking or stumbling feet. However, from somewhere in the cabin, something was groaning.

“You stick behind me, okay?” Tommy told you, his voice firm and leaving no room for argument. Not that you would have argued, anyway, because you knew better. You’d rather be stuck in the backseat than him do something stupid and get himself killed trying to protect you. With your confirming nod, he sighed quietly, before continuing on with practiced light footsteps.

You raised your gun higher when the sound steadily grew louder, and Tommy grew tense as the two of you got closer. Finally reaching the room, Tommy peered into the doorway, his expression showing that he’d seen the Infected responsible for all the noise. You peeked between his shoulder and the door when he moved closer, gun raised toward the thing’s head.

It was newly turned, you would’ve guessed, as it still sounded almost human as it cried. The hair on its head hadn't thinned as it usually did with time, and on its arm, you could see the dried blood around where those raised marks originated — the bite. You wondered if the one that bit it was still around, or if this thing had had the sense to shoot it while it had been human.

Stepping into the room, Tommy pulled the trigger, as the Infected turned its head at the noise, mouth opening to let out a shout before it was interrupted by the bullet. You jumped, not expecting the sudden gunshot noise, and you had forgotten just how loud the sound actually was.

Everything was silent for a moment after, both of you holding your breath as you waited for something else to happen. When it was clear after a few seconds, Tommy approached the body, patting pockets and pulling out a small box of pistol ammo, which he stuffed into his own pocket. The thing didn’t have a gun on it, surprisingly. You wondered if it would’ve been here if it had had a gun on it, but chose not to voice that.

When there was a resounding cry, echoing around the hollow wooden walls, Tommy thought his heart was going to stop. There was a door on the wall beside the one you had entered, and he couldn’t tell which way the sound was coming from.

“The corner.” You suggested, nodding over to the corner of the room, so you could have a clear view of both doors, the only possible entrances. Tommy nodded, ushering you over first, and he followed, raising his gun towards the door on the left, while he nodded you toward the one on the right.

Something clattered to the floor in the cabin, and you breathed steadily form your nose, adjusting your grip on the gun just slightly, and keeping your eyes locked onto the doorway.

It let out another yell, much closer than it had been earlier, and Tommy kept his own gun trained on the left doorway. When it smacked into something nearby, Tommy pressed his finger over the trigger, waiting.

The Infected stumbled into the right door, and the gunshot echoed throughout the room, with Tommy letting out a harsh breath as he watched you lower your smoking gun slightly, looking over the top of it to check the thing stayed down. It did.

“Nice going, kid.” Tommy said, slightly begrudgingly, but he couldn’t help feeling something like pride in his chest. You were a good kid, and he hadn't doubted you, but you hadn't let him down. You were as good of a shot in real-life situations as you were in simulated ones. Moving targets didn't prove to be an issue. However, it did mean that he had no excuse for keeping you off of the patrols he’d promised to allow you on.

You smiled. “Told you so.” You said, and raised your gun, looking through the doorway to the left as Tommy searched the second Infected’s pockets for anything of use. Coming up empty handed, he followed you through the second door, watching as you searched through drawers, the room being a dead end. You waved a box of rifle ammunition at him triumphantly. “Better check the rest of the place.”

He nodded, and you went back to following behind him, glad that at least his tense shoulders had loosened the slightest bit after the show of your skill. You could understand his nerves — you wouldn’t like to have a kid completely reliant on you, either. But you could take care of yourself.

Finally, Tommy realised that, too.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

When Joel burst into the Miller home, Tommy hadn’t really known what to expect. His brother had changed over the years, much like he had, and while they remained close, things between them hadn’t been the same since Sarah. Joel hadn’t been the same.

His eyes were wide, his hair unruly, and Tommy realised he’d probably just woken up after taking the night patrol. Joel usually prided himself on being in control during stressful situations, but he was definitely not composed.

“What are you doing here, Joel?” Tommy asked, eyebrows raised as he turned to the man, holding his son in his arms. He had hoped that they could bond over this — fatherhood — but Joel had remained somewhat distant, steering clear of the baby Miller. He wasn’t expecting Joel until later on, an hour or two, at the least, when him and Ellie were meant to be joining Tommy and Maria for dinner, whilst you dined at the dining hall with your new friend.

“I ask you to keep her safe, that’s all I asked of you, and now you’re letting her on patrols?” Joel spat, his voice loud, and Tommy’s son stirred in his arms, distressed at the shouting.

He should’ve expected this — part of him did, which was probably why Tommy hadn’t told Joel about it, even when he asked what had caused you to storm out of the house, all those days ago. Tommy sighed, tilting his head back and closing his eyes in annoyance.

“She asked to go, Joel, I’m not gonna shield her from the world.” Tommy reasoned, shifting his son to hold in one hand, now that he had stirred from where he had been falling asleep. Tommy supposed he’d be missing his afternoon nap, now. They were going to have a grumpy child on their hands, in the coming hours.

“She’s seen enough of the world, Tommy! Why do you think I left her here? You think that was for nothin’?” Joel responded, immediately, a hot feeling settling heavy on his neck as he looked at his brother. Everything he had done, everything he had sacrificed by leaving you behind, for what? For his little brother to go over his head, and disregard those decisions? You would barely even speak to him. It hurt, and it carved a pain in his chest that was only rivalled by the loss of his first daughter.

Joel thinks of those times he’d tried to reach out, tried to help you understand, and thinks of how you had rejected each attempt. The most civil interaction he’d had with you was delivering that food after the argument you’d had with Tommy — and the two of you had barely spoken.

He thinks of how this might be the rest of his life — reaching for you, and watching you turn away.

Joel knew he’d do it all again in a split second, if it kept you safe. He didn’t want to imagine what might have happened if you had joined them, didn’t want to think about the time he had almost lost Ellie, didn’t want to imagine it could’ve been both of you.

Tommy feels bad, for a moment, but he knows that you’re capable of being out there. Besides, it wasn’t like he was shoving you out of the gates on your own! The moment you gave him an inkling of the idea that you didn't want to be out there, he’d be stopping the patrols.

“Joel,” Tommy sighed, because part of him feels pity for his older brother, who struggles far more than he lets on, but he also understands your anger. Two sides of the same coin. “Nobody’s sayin’ that was for nothing. But she’s not some little kid, alright? And I was with her the whole time, nothing was gonna happen to her.”

“You’re not invincible, Tommy,” Joel said, his brows furrowed, and he doesn’t halt himself even as he hears footsteps coming down the stairs, likely drawn by the commotion he’d caused. “And neither is she. God damn it, Tommy.” He raised his hand, holding the bridge of his nose as he turned away from his little brother, trying to gain back some of his composure.

Maria stepped around him, cautiously taking the baby from Tommy’s grip, and said, “What’s going on down here?” She looked between the two brothers, waiting for somebody to answer her.

“He doesn’t want her goin’ on patrols.” Tommy said at last, after silence had lingered for too long, and he didn’t need to say much else for Maria to know who he was talking about.

“Trust me, Joel, I wasn’t thrilled about it, either.” Maria spoke, going to say some more before Joel cut her off, his hand moving from his face to gesture wildly in front of him.

“She’s just a kid!” Joel yelled out, unable to help himself. He thinks back to when the raiders came, to the way panic had gripped him as he shoved Ellie across the street toward his brother’s, and had set off toward the ceramic shop. He remembered his heart beating so wildly in his chest that he thought it might give out, especially when he caught sight of a raider, the gear too reminiscent of a night so long ago, a light shining in his eyes, blinding him, until all he could hear was Sarah. “Don’t you get it?” He asked, almost desperately.

“I get it, Joel.” Maria said, her voice so stern that Joel couldn’t interrupt, even if he had wanted to. He looked to the door on his left, catching sight of the names still written on that chalkboard, and he knows. He looked to Maria, and he could see it on her face. She knew, just as much as he did. “But it’s not our choice. All we can do is try to keep her safe, wherever she goes.”

It helps, for a moment, that there’s somebody who does understand, but then he’s just filled with something burning, and he turns away from the chalkboard before he can imagine your name written up there, next. “If she dies, that’s on you.” He spat, pointing an accusing finger at his younger brother, “And I’ll never forgive you for it.”

Tommy watched his brother turn away, slam the door shut so hard the walls shook, and feels the weight on his shoulders get heavier. He sighed, Maria’s hand on his shoulder doing nothing to relieve the burden.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Jesse’s hands were covered in wet clay, and you could only laugh as he cursed, baring his teeth at the wheel in front of him, covered in splatters of clay. “How the…” He started, trailing off and sputtering when he pressed too hard on the pedal, making a watery clay fly in all directions, including straight to his face.

“Okay, I think that’s enough of that.” You told him, pulling him away from the stool he was sat on, and watching the spinning slow to a stop, Jesse’s miserable attempt at pottery left looking even worse when you could actually see it. He was sulking, you knew before even facing him, and couldn’t help but snicker.

“Oh, shut up. Not everyone can be a damn… whatever you are.” Jesse retorted, glaring at you as your snicker turned into a laugh as he failed to find a phrase for you. “Okay, stop laughing. Stop! It’s not funny!”

You continued grinning at him, as he washed his hands clean of clay remnants, and watched as he dried them on a rag left by the sink. “Oh, come on Jesse, you should know by now that your misery brings me the most joy and entertainment.” You said, smiling sweetly at the boy who had quickly grown comfortable in your space.

When you had actually invited him, you couldn’t recall, but he had a way of just inviting himself into places. You didn’t mind it all that much, despite how tired you were after going on patrol. You were pretty sure that it was from the faded adrenaline, the rush of being back in the real world leaving you wiped out. It had been more than a few months by now since you had been out there, travelling and facing those things every day.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” He asked, jokingly, pouting at where you were scraping his failed creation off of the wheel, throwing the clay in the bucket beside the machine, where you usually threw your own failed attempts.

“Hey, you know where the door is.” You replied, not turning to look at him despite finishing cleaning the wheel as you said it. You didn't want to think about the truth of the words, or why the concept made your chest ache in a painfully familiar way. Why did you do this to yourself?

“Not going anywhere,” Jesse said, a hint of truth to his words, and you turned to glance at him, if only to give him a raised eyebrow in response. “I mean, who else is gonna tell me the story of their very first patrol?”

You shook your head at him, despite the way his words relieved the ache the smallest bit, and sighed. “I mean, when you put it that way…” You trailed, rolling your eyes when he sat himself down on another stool, leaning forward and looking at you like he was a child, waiting for story time.

As you told the story, you made it more dramatic, just for his sake, though it was entertaining you, too, even if you wouldn’t admit that aloud.

Tommy, stood outside the shop door, listened as you told it, feeling that weight on his shoulders pull him down further as you got closer to the end of your tale, laughter shared between you and Jesse at the exaggerated details. He laid his head against the frame, sighing heavily when he caught your final words, “You should’ve seen it, man. We were the dream team. Fighting off Infected, saving the cabin, one bullet at a time.”

Jesse laughed, and you joined, sure the grin on your face would never be wiped away in that moment. “You gotta convince him to bring me!”

“Hm, maybe one day, asshole.” You responded, rolling your eyes at the pleading expression Jesse was sending your way.

“Come on, I’m a way better shot than I am… potter-er.” He justified, sighing when you laughed at his choice of words, echoing it in a disbelieving tone.

Tommy walked away from the shop, unsure what to do about the weight that was getting too heavy for his aged joints.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It had been around four months since you had started doing patrols, but only two weeks since you’d been doing them without Tommy. Spring had been leaking into summer when you had started, but now, the days were dropping colder, clouds looking heavier by the day.

This morning, you felt an inkling of nerves as you looked to the sky, worried about it finally storming, like the sky had been threatening for the past few days. You hated when your worries were proved correct.

“Shit, it’s getting bad out here.” You said loudly, squinting your eyes to see through the quickly-thickening snow that was falling. It was settling against the ground in deep blankets, surprisingly quickly. You didn’t think this winter would be as bad as last years, but it seemed you were proved wrong there, at least.

“Should we go find shelter?” Jesse yelled back from behind you, his hand over his eyes, trying to keep his horse as close to yours as he could.

“I don’t know if these buildings have been cleared!” You responded, feeling your heart thrum heavily in your chest as you looked through the falling snowflakes at the buildings around you. They were mostly houses, with one building that looked like it could’ve held offices.

“What other option do we have?” Jesse asked. You huffed, surprising yourself as you agreed with his thought process — you were at risk the longer you stayed out here, and the horses might not make it all the way back to Jackson. Especially as the snow on the ground got thicker, your horse getting nervous as she treaded through it. You patted her neck as soothingly as you could, looking back towards where Jesse was following, and you hated how you regretted convincing Tommy to let him come along.

You were meant to be travelling with another patroller from Jackson, but he had turned back a while ago, complaining of a stomach issue. You grit your teeth, recalling how he had nervously surveyed the clouds as the first sprinkle of snow had appeared. He had convinced Jesse it would be fine to go along without his guidance, and you hated how the two of you had trusted his judgement.

“Okay,” You relented, turning your horse to head towards a house opposite the office building. “That one’s got a garage! We can get the horses in there.”

Jesse followed you as you led the way, and you huffed a breath that disappeared between falling snowflakes, nervous for a reason you couldn’t quite explain. You got off of your horse, handing the reins to Jesse where he was perched upon his own, and you hefted the garage door up with a bit of difficulty, cringing at the way the metal screeched. You peered underneath, seeing no sign of Infected as it got halfway, but your head snapped up when you heard something in the distance, barely there over the swirling winds.

“We good?” Jesse urged, his teeth chattering, and you looked at him before nodding, lifting the garage door up the rest of the way. He pulled your horse alongside him as he rode inside, and you pulled the door shut behind you as you followed.

The temperature wasn’t much better in the garage, but the lack of snow falling on you certainly helped. You let out a deep breath, watching it cloud the air in front of your face, and let your head fall back against the wall behind you.

“You okay?” Jesse asked hesitantly, pulling his wet gloves from his hands and rubbing his hands together, trying to generate some warmth.

“Yeah,” You responded, almost absently, and looked up when Jesse said your name, “Just— Just thinking of how Tommy’s gonna kill that asshole, when he gets back without us.”

Jesse smiled, scoffing out a slight laugh despite the situation, and nodded in agreement, “Oh yeah, he’s dead meat.” He let a moment of silence pass, not wanting to voice the thought that you’d also just had, that Tommy might not be back in Jackson, either. He was sent on a route in the opposite direction, to take out a dozen Infected with a small group of others. Jesse cleared his throat, shoving his gloves into his pocket. “So, when we get back, I was thinking…”

“Uh oh, this can’t be good.” You interrupted, grinning at the roll of his eyes.

“I was thinking,” He repeated, “Maybe I should introduce you to my friend, Dina.”

You raised your eyebrows, snickering at the nerves in his tone as he suggested it. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to meet your friend Dina.” You reminded, after you had seen him trying to chat the girl up. You thought she had seemed into it, but apparently that meant you weren’t allowed to meet her, lest you embarrass Jesse in front of his crush.

“I have reconsidered. Shut up.” He responded when you snickered. “Don’t make me change my mind!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it. I’d love to meet her.” You said, continuing to grin when he groaned and dropped his chin to his chest, clearly regretting making the suggestion already. He was pretty sure the two of you would team up against him. “You sit there and suffer, I’m gonna check the house out.”

Jesse frowned, moving to follow you, but you waved him away, knowing that he was annoyingly better with the horses. You thought of what had happened to him when you’d not long become friends, and grinned to yourself.

You held your gun up as you left the garage, looking in each room carefully, methodically, like you had done it hundreds of times before. You didn’t keep count, so really, you might have.

The house was empty, of almost everything, clearly ransacked a long time ago. At least a few years, you would’ve guessed, looking at the way dust and cobwebs had settled on ruined furniture, cracked family photos. You picked a broken frame up, twisting it in your hand, and frowned as you saw the way the crack marred the faces of the family in the photo.

Upstairs was arguably worse, the bedrooms completely destroyed, and you couldn’t help but wonder if the family who had lived here was still alive. You were sure they would hate to see what had become of what had once been their home, so part of you hoped they weren’t.

You looked at a wardrobe that had been completely disassembled, clothes torn out and strewn across the floor, old sentimental pieces left to rot on the dusty carpet. You stepped towards the window, moving aside the blue curtain, and peered outside at the worsening storm. You squinted at the ground, wondering if your eyes were playing tricks on you, until you saw that the footprints were definitely there.

And they were coming from the opposite way you and Jesse had appeared from, heading straight toward the front door.

With a new sense of urgency, you gripped the gun in your hand tightly, stepping down the stairs as quickly as you could without completely giving away your presence. You peered around the corner, seeing a mass of black clothes moving outside the frosted glass of the front door.

“Jesse!” You hissed, stepping into the garage and watching him jump where he had been petting your horse’s neck. He stood straighter, eyebrows furrowing as you shut the garage door gently behind you, gripping your gun as if your life depended on it. “We’ve got company. We need to get out of here.”

He nodded, shoving down his fear and starting to grasp the reins of the horses, beginning the frustratingly slow process of turning them around in such a small space. “How long?”

“Not long enough.” You acknowledged, ear pressed to the door leading to the rest of the house, and you heard the doorknob rattle. “Get the horses ready, I’ll buy us some time.”

Jesse said your name nervously, but you shot him down, urging him to just do what you say with a look he hadn't seen before in your eyes. You opened the door, peering around the corner the slightest bit, gun aimed towards the door. You took a deep breath, steadying your aim as they finally got it open, two rushing in immediately.

The first one went down, dropped to the floor with a single bullet to the neck, and you tried to tune out the way he gargled. The woman who followed him ducked to the side, pressing against it, and you shot the third person who peered around the doorway, saying nothing when they yelled out a curse, injured, but not dead.

You didn't know how many there were. That was making you more nervous than you could comprehend, especially as you shot a fourth who tried to enter, watching her fall to the snow outside, and trying not to focus on the blood that stained the white blanket when somebody dragged her body out of the way.

A shot far too close to you made you duck back into the garage, turning your head to see Jesse turning his horse the right way. He gave you a thumbs up when they were ready, and you nodded, flinching halfway through at the shot that settled in the wood just above your shoulder.

With a huff, you slammed the door shut, pulling a cabinet in front of it with a heave that made your arms ache, the wood far heavier than you had expected. It clattered in front of the door, stopping the people on the other side from entering as you heard several sets of footsteps rushing in, the moment the door closed.

“Get on!” You urged, reaching for the bottom of the garage door and heaving it open in one quick movement, grasping onto your horse and fighting the panic when you struggled to get on her. “Go!” You yelled to Jesse, following him a moment after when you were on your horse.

Blood was rushing through your ears, tinting the snow falling around you a faint red around the edges of your vision, and you gripped the reins tighter. When shots began firing from behind you, you leaned your chest down, closer to your horse, and tried to hurry her into going faster, unable to feel the pity you usually would for forcing speed in such terrible conditions.

A shot to the glass of the office building drew your attention, and you heard the glass shatter behind you, but your eyes were unable to turn back to see what followed when Jesse cried out, sliding off of his horse in the moment of shock.

You pulled your horse to a stop when his own rode off, too panicked to stop and wait for his rider. “Jesse!” You yelled, hand going low as you leaned to the side, using the hand he grasped onto you with to help get him on your own horse. “Come on, come on.” You urged again, your heart hammering as you saw the drops of blood that stained the snow where he had fallen. “You asshole, hold on!”

When Jesse grasped firmly onto you with one arm, you hurried your horse forward again, knowing it would only be more difficult for her with the added weight. As soon as you got to the forest cover, it would be okay, you had to assure yourself.

Groaning behind you only panicked you further, and you felt your pulse in your throat as shuffling in the snow grew louder, before some of the gunshots stopped coming, the sound of screams filling your ears.

It blurred in your mind, the moment you reached the tree cover, only just remembering to look back behind Jesse to check you weren’t being followed when you had travelled for a few minutes. You felt Jesse slipping before he could say anything about it, and you had to stop the horse when he slipped so far you only just stopped him from falling. You couldn’t remember doing it, but you eventually got him draped over the horse in front of you, and you held a hand firmly on him as you urged the horse to go faster.

Getting back to Jackson was the easiest part, with the route melded into your mind, and despite the snow that covered everything, you knew the way.

The lookouts didn’t see you until you were almost at the gate, where they yelled for you to be let in. Multiple people poured out, helping you get Jesse off of the horse as you dismounted, and watched them carry him in, with him managing only weak steps where he was held up between two shoulders. When Tommy rushed up to you, his hands grasping your face, you wondered if Jesse had been speaking to you, that whole time, because at first, you couldn’t hear his voice.

“Are you hurt? Kid, are you hurt?” He demanded, tapping a hand against your cheek when your eyes drifted to where Jesse disappeared between the gates.

You shook your head, “‘M fine. We— we got ambushed, they’re still out there.” You responded almost absently, letting out a harsh exhale and feeling Tommy’s hands fall from your face, as he swore and brought a hand up to his head. “What? What is it?” You asked, your attention finally caught.

“Joel, he went out after you.” Tommy replied, reluctantly, and you felt your heart drop.

“What?” You asked, wanting him to repeat it to ensure your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you, that this hadn’t been the breaking point. “Joel’s out there?” When Tommy nodded, a sense of urgency went through you, and you stepped back, grasping the reins of your horse from whoever had grabbed hold of them.

You shuffled your way atop the horse, getting on and turning her around before Tommy could quite comprehend what you were doing. His eyes widened and he stepped towards you, hands out, pleading, and you hated the look on his face as you rode away.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Your name being called in the distance caught your attention, and your head snapped towards the sound, where it was being yelled between gunshots. You swore, and rode on further, until you could finally see what faced you.

From the tree line, you could see the bodies of the people who had attempted to ambush you, half trampled by the horde of over a dozen Infected, which were swarming around as they were picked off slowly, from a house to the side of the one you had been in. You saw the glint of a gun coming from the shattered window of the living room.

Holding the reins still, you grasped onto your gun, adjusting your grip to accommodate the leather in your hand. You fired a single shot into the face of one of the runners, who was making too much progress in getting toward the window. You could only hope that it was Joel, as the sound of your name had fallen to a pause.

Between you and who you hoped was Joel, the hoard was picked off in no time, with them barely paying you any attention from your spot in the distance. Only one had come toward you, and it was dead before you could even change your aim.

“Joel?” You yelled, nerves making your throat clog up, and you squinted through the falling snow that had slowed during your shooting. “Joel?” You shouted again, louder that time, pushing past the lump in your throat.

He responded, calling your name, and you slid off of your horse, wrapping the reins around a branch and rushing to head towards the sound. When you peered through the broken window, stepping around bodies of humans and Infected alike, you saw him there, hand gripping tightly over a bleeding wound in his thigh. Joel’s shoulders fell when he saw you, a breath of relief leaving him, rushing out in a cloud that blocked the image of his face for a moment.

You stepped through the window frame, hissing when broken glass nicked your palm, and you held out your hand to help him stand. His bare hand grasped your gloved one, and you frowned for a moment, before focusing on pulling him to his unsteady feet.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You asked, after he was finally stood on his own feet without your assistance. “You know what, don’t answer that.”

He said your name, and you whirled around to face him fully from where you had turned towards the doorway. “Please, let’s…”

“Let’s what, Joel?” You questioned, desperation leaking into the tone of your voice. “Let’s hug and make up after you almost got yourself killed? Is that it?”

“I came out here to help you!” He defended, looking at you with a pleading expression, his hand covered in blood as he pressed it harder against his leg.

“I didn’t need your help, Joel!” You yelled, hands waving in the air in your exasperation. “I had it covered. I’m not that same kid that needed saving, don’t you get that? You saved me. You already saved me, so why do you keep trying to get a do over?”

He gaped at you, for a moment, and couldn’t answer.

Joel thought of you, the face that was so much different from the one that looked at him now, thought of the way you had clung to him and Tess, as if your life depended on it. He supposed, it might’ve. He wonders if that’s why it hurt so much, that you pulled away, that it was an admission that you didn’t need him.

You stared at him, the man who had held on to you back at Boston QZ, who had done that despite the way it made his skin crawl, made his heart race. You knew now that he must’ve thought of his daughter, each time you looked to him with scared eyes, looked to him for answers, for protection. Knew that he must’ve been stuck in that day, all those years before, where he had failed at the first daughter who had looked to him that way.

“Please,” Joel repeated, because he didn’t know what else he could say, or do, other than beg you for something he wasn’t even sure he knew himself. Did he want forgiveness? “I didn’t want to leave you. I didn’t want to. But look at us.” He gestured between the two of you, the way you gripped your gun where you had slung it over your shoulder, the way he held onto a bleeding wound. “All I ever do is fail you, again and again and again. I couldn’t keep doing it. I failed Tess. I failed Sam, Henry… I couldn’t fail you. Not again.”

You stared at him, at the open wound he wasn’t attempting to hide, and you couldn’t stop the pull of your lips as you bared your teeth at him, swallowing the lump in your throat that made your eyes sting. You wondered, then, if showing your own unhealed wound would change anything, but you didn't think it would. You didn’t think anything could change the distance between the two of you.

With the heart in your chest aching, though for what, you couldn’t decipher, you shook your head, tilting it up towards the water-stained ceiling of this house. “Joel, that isn’t…” You sighed, closing your eyes, knowing that his expression would make you crack. “No, it’s not fair. I didn’t ask you to— to come back to Jackson, to come out here to protect me. You left me behind, so what? I’d be safe?”

His chest was painful, feeling so tight he wasn’t sure it would ever rise if he let his lungs empty, so he held his breath, staring at you as you refused to look at him.

“I was safest when I was with you.” You admitted, and Joel didn’t fail to notice the past tense of that sentence. “I was scared of losing you, of losing Ellie, like I had lost everybody else. I didn’t want to see that. I wanted to stay with you both. You made my fear come to life.”

Joel frowned, not moving as you stepped forward, finally looking at him, to point an accusing finger towards his chest. He said your name, wanting nothing more than to reach out for you, to hold you close and swear he’d keep you safe, but he was starting to realise your perspective. He was starting to realise that to you, he had failed. The moment he had left you behind, he had failed.

“And I hate you for it.” You added, arms falling to your sides, despite the way your fists clenched, just aching to hit him where it hurt, to not stop until he felt how you did.

“I’ll…” He trailed off, sure his next words would be the wrong ones, but he didn’t know what else he could say. “I’ll leave, if you want me to. I’ll go and I won’t come back, but only if you tell me. I don’t wanna leave you again.”

“You can’t just… put that on me.” You said desperately, turning to the window and taking another step away from him. “I don’t want you to leave, but I’m not sure how much I want you to stay, either.”

Joel blinked away the tears that were coming to his eyes as he looked at you, feeling like the two of you were miles apart.

“I don’t forgive you.” You told him, gritting your teeth, “And I don’t know if I ever will, but I…” You trailed off, looking out to where your horse was still stood in the faltering snow, suddenly feeling a harsh pang of guilt for leaving her there. “Let’s just get home, okay?”

“Okay.” Joel agreed, unsure what else he could do. Maybe, you were right, and you wouldn’t ever forgive him. Maybe he would live out the rest of his days, with only memories of you, only catching a glimpse of you as he passed you in Jackson, with you not sparing him a glance, as if the two of you were strangers. He doesn’t know if he can quite cope with that.

He tried to hold some hope in the fact that you were here, you had come back out here, for him, as he followed you out of the door of the house, limping his way to your horse, frowning where his own had been taken down by the horde. He tried not to linger on the thought.

You settled behind him on your own horse, and it hurt his chest, thinking that this is the exact way the two of you had been when riding into Jackson the first time. He hoped everything didn’t fall apart again, like it had before.

When your forehead rested against his back, complete exhaustion falling heavily on your shoulders, Joel tried not to hope.

He had never been good at such things, when it came to you.

PART FIVE

▹ — if the door wasn’t shut taglist (all parts): @sleepylunarwolf @am-i-shit-or-am-i-the-shit @mandowhatnow @aphrcdites @doodlebob-mp3 @rrickgrrimes8 @nikt-wazny-y @fallenoutofrose @wrathofcats @kakimakiloh @famoussuitcasepiebagel-blog @poliars @esstark @bella820 @gtxbitch

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagine #joel miller imagines #joel miller father figure #joel miller angst #joel miller fic #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller father figure #tommy miller angst #tlou imagine #tlou one shot #tlou imagines #tlou angst #the last of us one shot #the last of us imagine #heartpascal writes

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thornbutch · 1 year ago

Text

One Night Only (Pt. 2) (18+)

check out my masterlist! ♡ | pics r not mine.

Part One | Part Two

Pairings: Jordan Li x Fem!Reader, (brief) Andre Anderson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Past experiences have wrecked Jordan’s perception of their true feelings. The pretty girl from a week ago isn’t making their situation any better. Cue angst and car sex.

Tags: Jordan Li x fem!reader, Gen V, Jordan Li is a toxic, jealous, sexy piece of shit, cursing, angst, sensitive reader, sapphic make out sesh, Corruption kink, smut, mature content, Jordan might be a little OOC? Sorry. I wrote this in two hours.

Word Count: 2.7k

Jordan Li was probably the most confusing human being she had ever encountered. Ever since that night, he had been ignoring her. She’d see him in the courtyard at lunch, wave, and be disappointed when he didn’t wave back. She knew he saw her. What was his problem?

A week went by since the night she entangled with Jordan. She had finally come to terms with the fact that Jordan didn’t see her as anything but a one-night stand. She couldn’t explain why she felt so hurt by this. Maybe Jordan regretted what happened. Or maybe she was some kind of revenge hook-up? She had dealt with that before; her body being used to make someone else jealous. But that didn’t seem like a thing Jordan would do. On the other hand, she didn’t know Jordan much. She knew he was number five on the list. She knew that he had been Dr. Brink’s TA, but other that, his story was a mystery to her.

The next time she saw him, she was determined to get his attention. She didn’t care if she embarrassed him. How dare he treat her like trash? He owed her an explanation. If she had did something wrong, she’d like to know. If he wished he could forget that night, she had a right to know. She doesn’t know why it bothered her so much, but it did. He didn’t have to fuck her again, but he could’ve at least waved or said hello when he saw her in public.

She had gotten information from Maverick, the dorm’s resident assistant. She demanded to know where Jordan’s room was in the sweetest way. She fluttered her eyelashes and put her hands together in a praying form, begging him over and over to tell her until he finally did.

“God, you freshman are so fucking annoying! Can’t a guy jerk off in peace?” She didn’t have time to wonder if he was jerking off in that moment, due to his invisibility. She’d question him again later on that, because ew.

She made her way to Jordan’s room, knocking on the door once, twice, three times.

“Coming!” She heard a feminine voice shout from behind the door.

Had she arrived at the wrong room? No, Mark was adamant on the floor level and room number.

Plus, she recognized that smell of hefty cologne from the night Jordan fucked her senseless.

So who was-

Oh. She had approximately five seconds to walk, no sprint, away from this situation. She could’ve made it behind a wall or scurried off into a communal bathroom. She had time.

But she stood there, dumbfounded and hurt.

The girl from the other side opened the door, “Can I-“

She stood there.

Her doe eyes brimmed with tears. What the fuck? What the actual fuck? She didn’t own Jordan. She wasn’t his girlfriend. He made it very clear that he didn’t want to be with her.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, “Wrong door.”

Before the girl had anything to say, she was running down the hallway and exiting the building.

. . .

That was all it took for her to move on. Now, she was back to her normal self. Fuck Jordan Li, and fuck whoever that girl was at the door.

She was undoubtedly pretty, but also handsome at the same time. She kind-of looked like Jordan a bit, but she highly doubted it was a relative. Some guys were into shit like that, fucking the “girl” versions of themselves.

Ick.

She was tired of parties. They were fun, sure. It was nice to get out and get drunk and fuck here and there, but she needed an escape from that environment. She opted to go to a bar instead, one of the local ones near campus that served as a hot spot for the students.

She put on a black, tubed dress that stopped at her mid-thigh. She chose one of her favorite leather jackets to match with it and similar-looking black leather boots that came up just below her knee. It was different than what she’d normally wear. The white dresses, jean skirts, and pink accents made her look cute, but it seemed like people took advantage of that. They thought she was naïve and not aware of their schemes.

She was smart, that much was evident. As pretty as she was, she was also sexy, and she’d be damned if she didn’t own that shit.

The bar was far quieter than the frat parties, but still loud nonetheless. Supes and normals mingled here. One thing they both had in common was their love for alcohol. It seemed to bring them together and offer peace against outside situations.

The moment came when she was asked if someone could buy her a drink. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t place her finger on it. He had curly, dark brown hair and deep black eyes. He was good-looking, she couldn’t deny that.

“I’m a freshman,” she stated. The man laughed.

“You say that like I’m old,” he said as he bought himself a drink, “I’m only a junior.”

She smiled, knowing that he was in her age range and a fellow student calmed her. “I’m (Y/n).”

He took a sip from his glass, “Andre,” he replied, “You have a coin on you?”

She nodded, reaching into her black velvet purse to retrieve a quarter. She handed it to him, and he examined it thoroughly.

“Look,” he held the quarter between his forefinger and thumb, “If I could make this-“ she watched as the quarter transformed before her eyes, the metal twisting and bending to create the shape of a bird, “into her drink-“ he looked over at a woman sitting down, holding a champagne glass in her hand, “then you have to come home with me.”

“Oh, I have to?” She smirked.

“I don’t make the rules,” he shrugged and grinned back, “Just enforce them.”

Before she could reply, she felt a familiar presence loom over her. She turned around, met with a firm chest and a heavy scent.

Jordan.

“She’s not into your lame ass party tricks, Andre,” Jordan said.

Andre scoffed, blistering a false offended look on his face, “Lame? C’mon, Jordan, don’t be like that.”

Jordan rolled his eyes, “She’s not interested, got it?”

Andre rolled his eyes as well, his fists bawled up and the once floating medal bird turned into a dense ball, “It’s 2023. Women can speak for themselves.”

“Right,” Jordan looked down at you, finally including you in on the conversation that he interrupted, “Are you interested?”

She was taken aback by the question. She sputtered a little, swapping glances between Andre and Jordan. Whatever this was, she did not want to be apart of it. Fuck Jordan for ruining this.

“No.” She said. Andre held his hands up in defeat, grabbed his drink, and walked away from the bar and into the crowd. She turned back to Jordan then and stood up. “Fuck you.”

“You already did,” he said.

She pushed him then. “No, fuck you. Fuck you for being an asshole to me all this week and then popping up to ruin-“

“Ruin what, exactly? Where you going to go home with him, huh? Fuck him, too? Let him see you the way I saw you?”

“Excuse me?” She raised her hand to slap him, but he caught it. His grip was tight and bruising. A few bystanders gathered around them.

“Let’s go to my car.” Jordan tugged her towards the exit. She barely had time to register what was going on before she felt the cold breeze of the night air swift through her nostrils and blow on her exposed skin.

He opened the passenger door for her. A gentleman. What kind of gentleman would dare to ask to her that way? Just who did he think he was? Her fucking boyfriend?

She got in, and he slammed the door closed. She stared out the window as he felt the car dip a little with the weight of Jordan getting in on the driver’s side.

The car was silent.

“Are we playing the quiet game or something?” .

She nodded.

He sighed, “Look, you have every right to hate me-“

“I do.”

“-but I need to explain something to you.”

She could feel her anger bubbling up. Her knees bounced against the car floor. She continued to stare out the window. “Explain.”

“The girl you saw, she was-“

Oh, not this lousy and overused excused. He really thought she was dumb. It wasn’t just something she had made up in her mind. This was evidence.

She turned, tears just about to spill past her eyelids, “Your sister? Your cousin? Your best friend?” She scoffed, “You think I’m stupid. You ignore me for a week, a week, Jordan. Then you decide you can whisk me away like you’re some kind of Prince Charming?”

“That’s not-“

“You embarrass me in front a cute guy because what? You’re jealous? You don’t like to see your one-night stand hooking up with other people but don’t mind not bothering to wave back when she waves at you?”

“(Y/n)-“

“But maybe I am stupid. You asked if I was interested, and I said no. You opened the door for me, and I got in. You folded my panties and tucked me in and left and treated me like I didn’t exist.”

Jordan watched intently as she spewed all the horrible shit they had done to her. They didn’t think it would affect her so much. They’d hate to be ignored, too, but they’d get over it. They could tell she convinced herself she was over them, over the entire situation. If she was moved on, she wouldn’t have turned down Andre’s offer, and she wouldn’t have entered their vehicle.

“-and now you’re not fucking listening, great.” She folded her arms and dramatically laid back against the seat. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her makeup was ruined. Black streaks of mascara coated the skin.

“I’m sorry,” they said. “You’re right. Not about the stupid thing, the fucked up thing. It was wrong of me to ignore you, I just…” Jordan breathed in shakily. This was so out of character for them. “I didn’t think you liked me.”

She turned towards the window again, staring at her own reflection.

“And… the girl you saw wasn’t my sister, cousin, or best friend,” They could feel their chest tightening, “She was me.”

She watched in the reflection as Jordan morphed into the girl she had seen earlier. She turned back sharply, completely in shock at what she just witnessed.

“You-“

“Yeah. I’m bigender, or whatever the fuck,” Jordan sighed. They felt vulnerable in this form. They tucked a strand of their longer black hair behind their ear and looked beyond the front windshield, “I didn’t want you thinking that I-“

“That you’re into women who look like you?” She responded.

“Yes,” Jordan snorted, “But I was going to say that I wasn’t using you. Or- I didn’t use you. That wasn’t my intention.”

“Do you normally fuck girls and abandon them?”

“I normally don’t get jealous when I see someone else flirting with them,” they looked at her then, “I didn’t like what I saw. When he flirted with you using his medal-bending ability. It was corny.”

She let out a small laugh, wiping away her tears, “It was kind of corny.”

Jordan nodded, “I was… afraid. I’m not used to feeling like this, but I am used to it at the same time. Girls, they fuck me in my masculine form and want nothing to do with me in my feminine form. Guys are vice versa.”

She listened to every word coming from their mouth.

“I guess I’ve grown accustomed to blocking people out without asking if they’d accept both versions of me.”

The car was quiet once more.

“Accustomed,” she whispered, “that’s a big word.”

Jordan rolled their eyes.

“I don’t mind,” she was no longer looking at them, instead focusing on her hands that she held in her lap, “I wouldn’t have judged you. I’m not judging you.”

“You’re not?”

“I think you’re the most handsomest and prettiest person I’ve ever seen,” she said.

They could feel their ears tint with red.

“I understand why you were nervous, but I wish you would’ve talked to me before doing all of this,”

“I’m sorry,”

“I know,” she faced them, bringing her hands to cup their soft jawline, “I forgive you.”

Their lips met with hers, but not like how they did at the frat party. This time was more passionate, sweeter, and less rough. She broke the kiss to climb over the armrest and straddle them. Jordan leaned the chair back as far as it would go to give her enough room to sit on their lap. She took off her leather jacket. Their hands held onto her waist, keeping her in place. She liked being on top and knowing that she had no control. They liked being underneath her and knowing that they were still the dominant one.

They began to kiss each other harder. More hunger. They craved her. She must’ve worn this black outfit in retaliation. She looked pretty in white. She looked pretty in black. She looked pretty naked. She was the most beautiful girl they had ever seen, and now they had her right where they wanted her.

She had been hogging their memory ever since that night. They’d slip their hands into their pants during late hours of the night, fondling their clit and breathing her name in heavy gasps as they imagined her touching them. They pinched their nipples, imagining her biting them. They wanted to see her between their thighs, eating them out with her back arched and her eyes closed because she was so into it.

“Am I doing good?” They imagined she would say.

They’d tell her she was doing amazing as they fucked their pussy onto her face.

They’d have to take a late-night shower, having soaked their boxers in their secretion. Their shirt would stick to their back from how hot they were and how much they were sweating during a simple masturbation session.

They wondered if she touched herself. Maybe she was so pent up with frustration that she couldn’t help but fuck it out of herself. She’d use two fingers right off the bat. Her legs would be spread open, and her clothes discarded into a heap at the edge of her bed.

“Jordan,” she’d moan.

“Jordan,” she moaned.

They were brought back to the present, pulling away from her lips. Both of their chests rise and fell with great intensity. They bought their hand up to her face, placing their thumb on her lip and parting them. She opened willingly, allowing their thumb to enter her wet cavern.

She sucked feverishly, all while maintaining eye contact.

“Fuck,” Jordan cursed. They could feel how wet they were in their stiff jeans.

She pulled their thumb out of her mouth with a barely audible pop!

“I want to touch you,” she said.

Yes, yes, please, yes.

She pulled up their shirt, revealing a flat stomach that had the shadows of their abs present. They didn’t wear a bra. She was very understanding of that, too. It’d be extremely uncomfortable for them to shift and feel the hard clasps of the bra digging into their back.

She cupped their breast tenderly, swiping her thumb over the nipple. Jordan couldn’t tell if she’d been with women before. Was she an expert? Or was she just doing what she did when she touched herself?

She pinched and they shifted unexpectedly. She leaned back, her ass hitting the steering wheel and blaring the horn.

It was quiet for the third time.

They apologized for startling her. She told them it was okay.

Then, she busted out laughing, falling onto them. They laughed, too.

“I guess that’s a sign,” she said.

“A sign for what?”

“To take me back to your place.”

She didn’t have to say anything else.

#gen v #jordan li #fem4fem #gen v fanfiction #andre anderson #ooc #sapphic #angst #jordan li smut #smut #reader insert #x reader #Spotify

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baekhyunsbestie · 4 days ago

Text

── ❝ truth be told ❞ 🐰ྀི ̟!!

⟢ a pediatrician!baekhyun au req'd by this lovely anonie <3 :') ty baby!

sum: you and baekhyun were college sweethearts, bound by shared dreams of a future together. but when he was accepted to a medical residency program across the country, you kept a secret—you're pregnant. fearing that your news would derail his dream of becoming a doctor, you chose to disappear, raising your daughter alone. three years later, in a new city, you bring your little girl in for a routine check-up, only to discover her pediatrician is none other than baekhyun, her father.

જ⁀➴°⋆ content: 18+/MDNI. 24.2k+ words. omg Hahaha 🫣. baekhyun x f!reader. chanyeol x f!reader. baekhyun x f!oc. lovers to strangers to co-parents to lovers again. angst, slow burn, fluffy, then we get reaaaallll smutty ⟡ pet names, praise kink, body worship, unprotected sex, p in v, bulge kink, creampie, slight breeding kink (y'all should know me by now 🤟🏼😣) ⟡ ALSO! i made a playlist for you guys to vibe out to while you read cus i love u <3 :') its linked in the title!!!

you and baekhyun had once been the epitome of college sweethearts—late-night study sessions that bled into spontaneous adventures, laughter, and whispered dreams of a future together. you were inseparable, his drive to become a doctor and your quiet dream of building a life with him making everything feel so perfect. you could picture it all—the home, the life, the love, knowing you’d be together forever.

during those years, you moved in together. things got serious quickly. talks of marriage, kids, and a future you’d both start building when the time was right were always at the forefront. but as much as you both wanted to dive in right away, you both agreed that you’d wait until baekhyun had at least finished his schooling and residency. it made perfect sense—his dream of becoming a doctor came first, and you were happy to support him, knowing you’d have a lifetime to make it all happen.

you’d completed undergrad together, then post-grad, and now, with your master’s behind you, baekhyun was finishing med school and applying to residency programs. everything seemed to be unfolding just as it should.

but life, as it tends to do, shifted unexpectedly.

when baekhyun’s acceptance letter arrived—the one from his dream residency program across the country—your world tilted, skewed into something unrecognizable. this was his number one pick, the culmination of years of sacrifice and determination. you should’ve been ecstatic, screaming with joy for him, for his future. but instead, a foreign weight settled low in your stomach, twisting into something unnameable.

you’d only just found out, barely two days ago. pregnant. the word clung to you like a vice, heavy and suffocating. you hadn’t planned for this, hadn’t even considered it a possibility. and yet, here it was—undeniable. that stupid test, its second line blaring back at you like a neon sign, mocking the life you thought you had under control.

you stared at it, willing the line to fade, to disappear, to become a cruel trick of your imagination. but it didn’t. and the next test didn’t either. nor the one after. five little sticks, five blaring truths. undeniable. inescapable.

you didn’t want to hold him back. not when his dreams were so close. not when the future he had worked so hard for was finally within his grasp.

so you made a decision. you couldn’t tell him. you couldn’t bear to see the guilt and the pain in his eyes as he would undoubtedly sacrifice his dreams for you and the baby. you thought it was the right thing to do, that you were doing him a favor by disappearing, by cutting off all contact.

you had moved to a new city—far from the places where memories of baekhyun lingered, far from the shadow of the life you’d carefully unraveled. it wasn’t easy; untangling yourself from him had felt like pulling threads from a tapestry until it barely resembled what it once was. but over time, you found a rhythm. a life where thoughts of him became a quiet hum rather than a deafening roar, where the love that had once consumed you slipped quietly into the recesses of your heart.

and now, three years later, you stand here as someone completely transformed: a mother.

raising your daughter alone had its challenges, sure, but you couldn’t deny the sense of purpose it gave you. you were made for this. or maybe it was her—the tiny miracle who had made it all feel so natural. from the moment she came into the world, she was an angel, a light so radiant it softened even the hardest days.

sure, she had her moments. she was a toddler, after all, still learning how to navigate big feelings in a little body. but her resilience—the way she could fall apart one minute and bounce back the next—made everything easier. she was your shadow, your little mimic, always wanting to copy everything you did.

the love she gave you was pure and boundless, something you hadn’t realized could exist until she was in your arms. it was a love that filled the spaces in you that you didn’t even know were empty, a love that made the sacrifices and sleepless nights worth it.

you often found yourself wondering if she was a gift straight from the universe, a little piece of heaven sent just for you. every smile she gave, every tight hug, every soft ‘i love you, mommy’ felt like proof that you were the luckiest soul alive.

and as you watched her now, her tiny fingers curled around her favorite stuffed bunny, a swell of overwhelming gratitude washed over you. life had twisted and turned in ways you never could’ve anticipated, but somehow, in her, it had gifted you everything you’d ever need.

maybe it was the depth of love she gave, the way she radiated warmth and light, that made the thought of telling baekhyun even more terrifying. she was everything—the way her laughter could turn any bad day around, the way her eyes sparkled with innocence and curiosity. a fragile little soul, so beautiful it almost hurt. and you knew, deep down, that baekhyun would’ve adored her. loved her more than words could describe.

the thought of it—of him finding out, of him knowing you’d kept her from him, hidden this piece of him, this precious life from him—it twisted something deep inside you. it made your chest tighten, your thoughts spiral. the guilt, the shame—it felt like a constant ache, one that only grew the more you thought about it.

you and baekhyun talked about it, after all—the future you both dreamed of. lazy nights tangled together under blankets, whispering about what life would look like years down the road. marriage, a house filled with warmth and laughter, children.

he wanted a family with you. he was so sure of it, so sure of you. he used to say that he couldn’t imagine anyone else being the mother of his kids. the way he looked at you when he said it—it was as if his soul had reached out, seen yours, and said, there she is, the one we’ve been waiting for.

he was a dreamer. he’d mapped it all out in his head—two girls, two boys. his perfect little quartet. the oldest, a girl, to set the tone, to be the leader of the pack. then a boy to balance things out, another boy to roughhouse and make the middle feel less lonely, and finally, the baby of the family, a girl to soften the edges of the chaos. he laughed at the improbability of it all, at how life doesn’t work like that, but he loved dreaming about it anyway.

you still remembered the way his face lit up when you’d asked him, teasing, what he’d name his first daughter.

he didn’t even hesitate. he looked up at you, that smile you used to know better than your own, and said, minji.

your little girl, minji, was the brightest star in your universe, her laughter a melody that softened every hard edge of your world. her smile—warm and golden—was like sunlight spilling into the corners of your heart, chasing away the shadows that lingered from the life you left behind. she was growing so fast, each day a reminder of how fleeting these moments were, and how much you wanted to hold onto them.

sometimes, though, when the house was quiet and the weight of the past crept in, you allowed yourself to think about baekhyun. it was never for long—just a passing thought, a wondering what if. you didn’t dare to linger, didn’t dare to stir up the bittersweet ache of old feelings and lingering regrets. he had his life now, and you had yours.

but still, he had been the love of your life, and that kind of love doesn’t just disappear. curiosity tugged at you from time to time. late at night, when minji was fast asleep, you’d catch yourself wondering what he was doing, where he was, if he ever thought about you, too.

yet no matter how strong the urge, you never gave in. you wouldn’t let yourself open his socials, wouldn’t let yourself peer into the window of the life he was living without you. it wasn’t that you didn’t want to know—it was that you couldn’t. because knowing might hurt more than not knowing, and the delicate balance you’d created would come crashing down.

you hadn’t blocked him, not on anything. instead, you deleted every account, wiped your digital footprint clean, and changed your number. you made sure there was no way for him to reach you, no thread he could pull to unravel the wall you’d built between you.

you never allowed yourself to dwell on how hurt he might have been—how confused he must’ve felt, waiting for a call or a text that never came. the promises you’d made to him echoed in your mind, haunting you. i’ll tell him when the time is right. but the right time never came.

and then she was born. tiny fingers curling around yours, eyes so full of life. she reached milestones—her first smile, her first steps, her first word—and with each one, the weight of telling him grew heavier. how could you? how could you drop this truth on him after he’d already missed so much?

you imagined his reaction: the sharp edge of his disappointment, the rawness of his hurt, the anger that would burn in his chest. he’d ask you why—why did you wait? why did you let so much time pass? and you’d have no answer, nothing that could make it right.

as the years went by, the truth turned into a mountain too steep to climb. every day that passed felt like another brick in the wall separating you. every moment you stayed silent made it harder to imagine breaking that silence.

you told yourself it was for the best. you told yourself he deserved better than someone who had made this choice, this mess.

because deep down, you believed it: you didn’t deserve him. not anymore. not after this

the sound of tiny sneakers squeaking against the linoleum floor filled the pediatrician’s office as you followed your daughter toward the nurse’s station. she clutched her favorite stuffed animal tightly in one hand while the other reached back for yours, her eyes wide with curiosity as she took in the colorful murals on the walls.

it was a routine check-up for minji, nothing out of the ordinary. she had been a healthy, happy child since birth, and today was just another appointment to ensure that everything was progressing as it should.

you had scheduled the appointment weeks ago, not knowing who the pediatrician was going to be. when you walked into the small, sunlit office, minji tugged excitedly on your sleeve, her eyes wide with curiosity at the brightly colored walls and the small toys scattered around the waiting room.

“mommy, look!” she gasped, pointing to a painted giraffe. her excitement momentarily eased the nervous flutter in your stomach. “a giraffe!”

“yes, it is, bun! good job!” you smile down at the little girl, holding your hand tightly.

it had been over three years. three years since you’d left your old life—and him—behind. baekhyun was supposed to be a part of your daughter’s story, but you made the impossible choice of keeping him out of it. his dreams had always been so big, and you didn’t want to weigh them down with your own.

a medical assistant called your name, her warm, practiced smile cutting through the haze of your thoughts.

you scooped your daughter into your arms, her tiny hands clutching her stuffed bunny, and followed the nurse into the examination room. she wriggled slightly but settled on your lap, the bunny tucked snugly under her chin as she began the usual routine.

height. weight. temperature. the nurse kept up a cheerful, steady rhythm of chatter, her voice a soft hum in the background as your daughter giggled at the stickers offered to her.

“dr. byun will be in shortly,” the medical assistant said with a final smile before leaving the room.

your heart stopped.

'dr. byun'?

no. it couldn’t be him. it had to be a coincidence. it was a common enough name, wasn’t it? but the sound of it crashed into you, unraveling the calm façade you’d so carefully built.

you told yourself you were being ridiculous. you told yourself to breathe. but the name echoed in your head, louder with every passing second, until you could barely hear your own thoughts over the roar of panic rising in your chest.

then came the knock.

soft. polite.

the door creaked open, and time seemed to slow to an agonizing crawl as he stepped inside.

your breath caught in your throat.

it was him.

fuck.

no.

this wasn’t supposed to happen. not like this. this wasn’t how he was supposed to find out. there were plans you never made, conversations you never had.

this was a complete and utter nightmare. and there was no waking up from it.

“hi, i’m dr. byun—” his voice wavered, the words barely leaving his lips before they caught in his throat. his eyes found yours, wide with recognition, a spark of disbelief flashing like lightning in a storm.

his gaze drifted downward, landing on the little girl perched on your lap. her tiny hands clutched your sweater, her curious eyes meeting his with unfiltered wonder.

for a moment, the world seemed to stop turning.

his lips parted, and your name slipped out, soft and breathless, as if saying it might make the moment vanish. “it’s you,” he murmured, a mixture of shock and something deeper lacing his tone.

you couldn’t find your voice, couldn’t push past the lump forming in your throat. it was as though every nerve in your body had frozen, locked under the weight of his stare.

your daughter, oblivious to the tension coiling around you, tilted her head with a sunny smile. her voice rang out, bright and pure, shattering the silence like glass.

“hi, dr. byun!” she chirped, her words sweet and unassuming, a small anchor of innocence in the overwhelming tide of emotions threatening to pull you under.

baekhyun’s eyes widened instantly, flickering between you and her. you could see the cogs in his mind turning, the pieces falling into place far quicker than you were ready for.

his gaze lingered on her—studying, comparing. the resemblance was impossible to ignore. the same dark, expressive eyes that had once melted your heart, the same warm, radiant smile that mirrored his own.

“is…is she?” his voice was barely above a whisper, as though he wasn’t asking you but trying to make sense of the impossible himself. his eyes never left her, as if every second he stared brought him closer to the undeniable truth.

her delicate features were a perfect blend of you both, like a portrait painted with pieces of your souls. the curve of his nose graced her face, paired with the flush of your rosy cheeks. his silky black hair framed her tiny head, while your lips formed the gentle pout she wore even in sleep. your eyes shone through hers, but her ears—those were unmistakably his. she was everything you were, everything he was—woven together into this perfect, fragile little person, carrying pieces of a love that felt both timeless and out of reach. and now, looking at her, there was no denying it.

your mouth opened, but the words didn’t come. you tried to speak, to explain, to say something—anything—but all that escaped was a breath, shallow and lost in the silence that filled the space between you. the truth hung there, thick and fragile, like a thread that could snap at any moment, leaving you exposed.

you could only nod, slow and uncertain, as the weight of everything pressed down on you. the guilt was suffocating, heavy like a stone lodged in your chest, threatening to spill out in the form of tears you couldn’t afford to shed. but there was no escaping it anymore.

she was his.

baekhyun sank to his knees in front of her, his movements tentative, as if afraid that any sudden motion might make her disappear. he leaned in, eyes soft with a mixture of awe and something deeper, something unspoken.

“so, tell me. what’s your name, sweetheart?” his voice was gentle, tender, the words falling from his lips like a promise he wasn’t quite ready to make.

“minji,” she said proudly, her tiny hands holding up her stuffed bunny, as though it were the most important thing in the world. “this is sonny. she’s a bunny.”

the moment her name reached his ears, something shifted in baekhyun’s chest. his heart skipped, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, soft and amazed. for a brief second, he was lost in the memory of a quiet conversation—the one where you’d asked him what he would want to name your daughter, and how that moment, so simple, had felt like a lifetime ago.

“hi, minji,” he said softly, his voice trembling as his eyes locked onto her small, curious face. he crouched slightly, lowering himself to her level, and the words caught in his throat. “i’m…” his gaze flickered upward to yours, and in that brief second, the weight of it all was laid bare. his expression faltered, his eyes glossing with unshed tears, carrying the unspoken words and unresolved emotions that hung heavy between you.

you saw it then—the man he was before, the one you fell for, unchanged and yet altered by time and pain.

“…a good friend of your mommy’s,” he finally managed, the words shaky but kind.

minji giggled, her laughter light and carefree, like a burst of sunshine breaking through a storm. “mommy has lots of friends!” she chirped, her innocence unknowingly twisting the knife in baekhyun’s chest.

he nodded with a soft smile, his lips barely curving, as if the weight of her words was too much to bear. “she does, doesn’t she?” he murmured. his hands moved carefully as he began preparing for her exam, every motion deliberate, like he was trying to steady himself through the task.

but his eyes… his eyes stayed rooted to the ground, skirting around yours as if meeting your gaze would undo him entirely. and as you stood there, watching him avoid you, something inside you cracked. you knew why. you knew he wasn’t ready yet—not to face you, not to confront the flood of everything that had been left unsaid.

as baekhyun began the check-up, it was as if the floodgates of your heart had been ripped open. memories surged in, overwhelming you like a tidal wave—those plans you had once woven together, the future you had dreamed of, the life you thought you’d build before everything crumbled. nearly four years had passed since you disappeared without a trace, but those dreams now felt like fragile, delicate threads, tangled in the web of secrets you’d spun to protect him.

baekhyun moved with the same calm professionalism that you remembered—his hands steady and sure as he worked. but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from him, from the way he interacted with minji—his touch soft and deliberate, his voice lilting with that same soothing cadence. it was a tenderness that sliced through you, sharp and immediate, a reminder of everything you’d lost. how could you have let him slip away? how could you have convinced yourself that walking away was the right choice?

watching him, gently checking minji’s ears, his voice quieting her in the way he once did for you, something inside you twisted painfully. you couldn’t run from him anymore. not now. not ever again.

the exam ended far too quickly. minji bounced off the examination table, her bunny clutched in her small arms, and baekhyun handed you a stack of papers—educational handouts, visit summaries, the usual paperwork from a child’s wellness check. his fingers brushed yours as he passed them to you, and the brief touch left a burning trail that lingered long after.

minji’s small hand tugged at your sleeve, warm and insistent, her voice a soft melody that cut through the heavy air. “mommy, mommy! can we go play now?”

you forced a smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. the weight of the moment pressed on your chest, and you fought to keep the tears from falling. “sure, bun. we’ll go in just a minute.”

the word bun hung in the air between you, and baekhyun flinched. his eyes flickered with something raw, a mix of pain and recognition. that name. it was something he used to call you— a relic of a past that felt both distant and achingly close.

his gaze didn’t leave you, like he was trying to unravel the walls you’d so carefully built around yourself. there was a quiet intensity in his eyes, as if he was searching for something buried deep within you. the space between you both thickened, heavy with unspoken words. it felt suffocating, like the air was being stolen from your lungs. this was it. the moment that would change everything.

after what felt like an eternity, baekhyun cleared his throat, his voice thick with restraint. “we need to talk,” he said, the words heavy and laced with something you couldn’t quite name. “please… i just… i have so many questions.”

you nodded quickly, the anxiety twisting your insides into knots. “um, sure… i can meet you after i drop her off at daycare?” your words rushed out, frantic, as your brow furrowed in uncertainty.

"there’s a coffee shop nearby," he murmured, his voice soft yet steady, the words deliberate. his hand moved to pull out a notepad, pen poised above the paper. with a few swift strokes, he jotted down the name of the place before folding the paper and handing it to you. "i have a couple more patients to see this morning. do you think you can meet me there in an hour?"

his voice was calm, but his eyes—those eyes—told a different story. they flickered with something raw, something desperate, like a storm fighting its way to the surface.

you took the slip of paper, your fingers brushing his, a small shock of warmth shooting through you at the touch. you glanced down at the paper, his handwriting still familiar, though now slightly uneven, as if his nerves had bled into the ink. beneath the coffee shop's name, his number was written—neat but hurried, a subtle tremor in the lines.

you looked back up, and his gaze met yours—quiet, intense, full of unspoken things. without a word, he nodded toward the paper, his voice steady but laced with something fragile, something that didn’t quite fit with the man you knew. "that's my number, bun. just in case you're running late or something."

you nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, but it felt tight, strained. his nickname for you—a small, tender thing—lingered in the air like a spark. you felt it in your chest, but the words caught in your throat. too much. too many emotions swirling. your hands moved on instinct, gathering minji’s things, offering him a tight, polite smile before ushering your daughter out of the room.

but just as you turned to leave, you swore you heard him whisper—barely audible, a plea caught between his teeth, "please, don't leave me hanging this time."

it hit you like a blow to the gut, leaving you breathless. the weight of it pressed down on you, suffocating.

and in that moment, you knew with brutal clarity—you deserved that.

you sat there, the weight of your nerves pressing down on you, each breath feeling too loud in the quiet of the café. baekhyun chatted casually with the barista, ordering drinks like it was any other day, like nothing had changed between you two. his voice was light, unbothered, but it only made the tension in your chest heavier. you gripped the strap of your bag so tightly your fingers ached, heart pounding in your ears, drowning out the soft hum of conversation around you. your mind raced in circles, desperately searching for the right words—something to apologize for the years you took from him, for keeping his daughter from him, for all the lies. but no matter how hard you tried to form the apology, the truth hovered over you: what you did was unforgivable.

when baekhyun finally returned, he slid your drink in front of you, his movements slower than usual, almost tentative. you brought the cup to your lips, the warmth of it familiar, the taste exactly as you remembered—comforting, like a quiet reminder of everything you'd tried to bury.

"i remembered how you liked your coffee," baekhyun murmured, his voice softer than before, tinged with uncertainty. "i hope it's still the same."

you met his gaze, your throat tight as you forced a small smile. "it is. thank you."

baekhyun exhaled a heavy breath, running a hand through his hair, his fingers snagging in the tousled strands. his eyes drifted away from yours, unable to meet your gaze, as if the weight of this moment was pressing down on him just as much as it was on you.

"so..." you began, your voice hesitant, but before you could find the right words, he interrupted.

“i’m engaged,” he blurted, the words sharp and sudden, like a slap to the face.

it hit you in the chest, the shock stealing the air from your lungs. the room seemed to tilt, the ground beneath you crumbling, and you couldn’t find your footing. as if this day wasn’t heavy enough, this new weight crushed you under its force.

"oh," you whispered, the word tasting hollow, barely escaping as your heart constricted. "congratulations. i'm sure she's... amazing."

"mhm," he hummed softly, a brief flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth before it faded. his eyes dropped to his coffee cup, watching the steam rise like he was searching for something in the shifting mist, anything to avoid the tension between you.

you couldn’t find the strength to say more. words seemed pointless now. instead, you sat there, biting your lip, your gaze fixed on the table as jealousy and heartbreak clawed at you from the inside. you knew you had no right to feel this way, no right to be hurt after everything that had happened. but still, the ache lingered, a quiet, relentless sting.

his fingers raked through his hair again, the tension in his jaw unmistakable as he exhaled sharply, frustration thick in the air. when he finally met your gaze, his eyes were raw with hurt, every unspoken word between you now painfully exposed. "so why didn't you tell me? about minji?"

you'd rehearsed this moment a thousand times in your mind, each word crafted carefully, but now, sitting across from him, it all felt empty, hollow. "you had just gotten into your residency program," you said softly, voice shaky. "it was your dream. i…i didn’t want to hold you back."

his eyes darkened, the hurt twisting into something sharper. "so what? you thought you could decide for me? you think i wouldn't have wanted to be there?" his voice cracked with emotion, rising. "do you have any idea how much i waited for you? how many nights i sat by the phone, praying you'd call?"

the weight of it hit you, hard. you'd known, of course—he'd been dropped from the program. he'd fought tooth and nail to get into a second-choice school, one that brought him here, to this city. and now, here he was, sitting across from you, the remnants of his sacrifice hanging in the silence between you.

his gaze faltered, dropping to the steaming cup in front of him. he stared at the swirling mist as if it held the answers, as if the rising steam could ease the hurt, the questions, the ache that had settled between you.

you didn’t know what to say anymore. words felt pointless, insignificant in the face of everything that had unfolded. instead, you sat there, biting your lip, unable to meet his eyes, while jealousy and regret clawed at your chest. it wasn’t your place to feel this way—not after everything you had done. but the sting of it, sharp and biting, wouldn’t fade.

the tears you had spent so long holding back finally began to break free, each drop feeling like it had been waiting a lifetime to fall. you didn’t want to keep apologizing, but the words slipped out, hollow and fragile. "it wasn’t an easy choice, baekhyun. i thought i was doing the right thing."

“‘the right thing’?” his voice softened, but the hurt in his words still rang out like a chord being pulled too tight. "you didn’t even give me a chance. i missed everything—her first steps, her first words. you took all of that from me."

your throat tightened, each breath harder to catch. you swallowed, and your voice cracked under the weight of the truth. “i know,” you whispered, the regret clawing at you. “i regret it every day.”

baekhyun’s hands were curled into fists, white knuckles pressing into the table like they could anchor him in place. he didn’t look at you—his gaze was lost in his coffee, the silence hanging heavily between you both. and then, after what felt like an eternity of stillness, he spoke again, his voice quieter, as if the question had burned him from the inside. “does she know?”

you shook your head slowly, feeling your chest tighten. “i haven’t told her. i didn’t know how... but she’s been asking. she sees the other kids with their dads and wonders why she doesn’t have one.”

baekhyun covered his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes as if trying to erase the raw pain. "i can't believe this. i can't believe you."

"i know, baekhyun," you whispered, tears spilling down your face without control now. "you have every right to hate me... and if you want, you don’t have to see either one of us again—"

his voice sliced through your words, thick with disbelief, tremoring as if he couldn’t comprehend what you were saying. "are you... are you serious right now? you’d leave? again? how is that supposed to fix anything? did you not think i wanted her? wanted you? we’ve talked about this, bun... you knew what it meant for me to be a dad."

the sobs broke free from you then, impossible to hold back, your chest aching with each desperate breath. you wiped at your face, but your hands trembled too violently, the tears just wouldn’t stop. all you could choke out were broken apologies, fragments of regret slipping between your breaths. "i knew you’d drop everything for her. for us. but... you becoming a doctor, that was your dream... and i was just so scared."

he leaned forward, his expression softening, but there was still a fire in his eyes. “i want to be in her life,” he said, his voice firm, steady, eyes red from the silent tears streaming down his face. “she’s my daughter. and i want to know her. i want her to know me. her father.”

you looked at him, your heart heavy with guilt. “i wasn’t planning to keep you away,” you said, your voice cracking. “i just... i didn’t know how to tell you after all this time.”

baekhyun’s gaze softened, his voice quieter but resolute. “we’ll figure it out. but i’m not letting you push me away again.”

you paused, biting your lip, anxiety clawing at your chest. “but what about your fiancée? you already had a life of your own before today…i can’t help but feel like i’ve fucked everything up for you, baekhyun.”

he shook his head, a soft, bitter laugh escaping him before he quickly suppressed it. his voice faltered, the nickname slipping out before he even realized it. “don’t worry about that, bun—” he stopped mid-sentence, the word tasting strange and wrong on his tongue after your mention of his fiancée. it was as if, in that moment, he’d completely forgotten about her. he cleared his throat, trying to steady himself. “i mean… just let me handle that. but for now... please, promise me you won’t disappear again. promise me you won’t take her away from me. i’m begging you... let me in. i feel like you owe me that much.”

you nodded, the promise catching in your throat. “i promise.”

you scrolled slowly through your camera roll, fingers grazing over the images of your daughter, sharing them with baekhyun—each one, a snapshot of her life, a memory you’d held in secret for so long. each photo was like a tender piece of your soul, each moment a quiet confession of everything that had unfolded without him. there was a rawness in it, a vulnerability that felt like you were unwrapping your heart for him, and it was overwhelming. for both of you.

he sat there, eyes scanning the photos, and a storm of emotions swirled within him. there was anger, sharp and bitter, that you’d kept minji hidden from him. all those years, a secret that was both yours and hers to carry. betrayal lingered in his chest, not from you, but from the truth that he hadn’t been there, that he’d missed out on so much. and yet, despite it not being his fault, guilt settled heavy in his heart—guilt that you had to raise her alone. guilt for every moment you’d carried the weight of motherhood without him by your side.

but baekhyun, the man who had always been able to push past the shadows of the past, found something in the photos—something bright, something he could hold onto. minji’s smile, sweet and dimpled, was a beacon of hope. it was everything he needed to see, to ignite a fire within him. it wasn’t just a reminder of what was lost—it was the fuel that would drive him to make up for every single moment he’d missed.

the weight of the conversation shifted slowly, and before you even realized it, the words spilled out. you couldn’t stop yourself—you had to ask about her. his fiancée.

he told you her name was soo. they met during his residency, he said, when she helped pull him from the darkest corner of his life—the place where your absence had left him, broken and barely breathing. she was the one who stitched him back together, the one who healed the wound you’d left, a wound that, it seemed, only she could mend.

and yet, even as he spoke, despite the rawness of his confession, he wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty. he didn’t want to hurt you. but the words hung there, thick with unspoken emotions.

then, he showed you the photos. of her. oh god, she was beautiful. radiant, in a way that seemed to glow from within. they looked like they were made for each other, perfectly matched, intertwined in a way you could never hope to be. he spoke of her with awe—how brilliant and kind she was.

and as he spoke, something tugged at the edges of your thoughts. his eyes, usually so bright and full of warmth when he spoke of someone he loved, were different now. softer, distant. the sparkle that once lived there had dimmed, as if the affection he had for her wasn’t as alive as it once had been. you told yourself not to read too much into it, to not dwell on the subtle shift. it had been years. people changed, didn’t they? he wasn’t the same baekhyun you remembered. especially not after everything you had put him through.

it stirred a jealousy in you, sharp and bitter, but deeper than that, it left a dull ache settling in your chest. you longed to be the one he spoke of with such adoration, the one he admired in every way. you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering if he ever spoke about you like that—if he ever felt for you the way he now seemed to feel for her. it burned like poison in your veins, a vile and familiar ache that made you sick to your stomach. you hated it. hated how it made you feel so small, so unimportant. the weight of it made you want to vanish, to slip out of your own skin, anything to escape the suffocating reality of it all. you should be happy for him. happy that he had found someone who could make him feel whole again. but all you could feel was the hollow ache of your own failure to ever be enough.

you tried to smile, tried to hold yourself together, but each compliment, each story, each glowing word about her, hit you like a dagger to the chest. you couldn’t listen anymore. you didn’t want to.

it was too much. before you even realized it, you were standing, your throat tight as you forced the words out. “i... i need to go. um, i have to make dinner…and pick up minji from daycare. i’ll text you. we can figure out a time for you both to meet properly.”

before he could respond, you were out the door, the bells above the café door jingling as you fled.

but you didn’t make it far. a few seconds later, you heard the hurried footsteps behind you, his voice calling out. “bun—fuck, wait! slow down!”

you could feel the tears streaming down your face again, hot and uncontrollable. you wiped them hastily, hoping he didn’t see. but of course, he did. he always did.

“look,” baekhyun began, his voice softer now, tinged with something you couldn’t place. “i never thought i’d hear from you again. and now you just—pop back into my life, on a random friday, with a daughter i had no idea about. i’m sorry if you’re upset that there’s someone else in my life. but please... don’t punish me for finding myself again after you completely destroyed me.”

his words hit harder than anything you could’ve prepared for. your knees felt weak, your heart shattering with every syllable. because it was true. every part of it. you had done this. you’d pushed him away, and now you had no right to feel this way, no right to demand anything.

"baek," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, trembling under the weight of everything you couldn’t say. "you’re right. i don’t have the right to feel this way. i just... when i saw you again, it was like everything came crashing back. all those old feelings—things i thought i’d buried—flooded back in an instant. but i swear, i won’t keep minji from you. i won’t. and... i’m honestly so glad you’ve found happiness. and soo—she... she seems amazing. i can see why you’re with her. and... i’m genuinely looking forward to co-parenting with you both. really."

you swallowed hard, the words like sandpaper against your throat. the lie at the end tasted bitter, clinging to the back of your tongue, but you forced them out anyway. you needed him to believe it. needed him to let you go so you could retreat to the quiet of your own space, where you could curl up and weep in the solitude of your own shame.

his expression softened, though there was something unreadable in his eyes. “hmm…okay.” he reached into his pocket, pulling out your phone. “you left this on the table. and, uh… you promise you’ll stay in contact?”

you nodded quickly, unlocking your phone and typing your name into the message. “you have mine now, too.”

a small relief flashed in his eyes when he saw your name on the screen. he nodded, his voice steady. “thank you. let me know when you’re both ready. we’ll make this work.”

you nodded, your throat tight as you wiped away the last of the tears. you offered him a half-smile, barely managing to hold it together, before turning away. your feet felt heavy as you walked to your car, the silence between you louder than anything.

when you finally arrived home, everything came crashing down at once, a tidal wave that hit you full-force. the weight of everything you’d been holding inside pressed into your chest, suffocating, like your lungs had forgotten how to breathe. you collapsed, body trembling, as sobs wrenched their way through you—soft, guttural cries that seemed to echo in the emptiness of your apartment. tears streamed down your face, thick and relentless, each one heavier than the last, as if they were washing away more than just your sorrow. how had you managed to mess everything up this badly?

the feeling of being lost in your own failure was dizzying, a dark spiral that threatened to swallow you whole.

chanyeol, your next-door neighbor, was more than just a friendly face. he was a single parent too, his daughter nari being the same age as minji. from the moment you’d moved in, the girls had been inseparable—like they were two halves of the same whole, constantly together, sharing everything from toys to whispered secrets. and over time, you and chanyeol had become something more than neighbors. you were lifelines to one another, navigating the chaos of single parenthood side by side. daycare pickups, late-night texts for advice, emergency contact calls—they were moments that built trust, moments that held you both up when the world felt too heavy.

but then there were the other moments. the ones that neither of you had planned, yet they happened all the same.

on nights when the girls had sleepovers, tucked under either your roof or his, the house would fall into an eerie stillness, a quiet so profound it felt almost alien. no toys scattered across the floor, no giggles or whispers. just an empty house, and the faint hum of the world outside. in those moments, the bottle of wine always made its way to the table—deep crimson liquid swirling in your glass, catching the soft light in a way that felt too intimate, too inviting. the scent of it lingered in the air, rich and heady, like a secret waiting to be shared. one glass became two, then three, until the words flowed freely, unguarded.

laughter bubbled between you both, light and carefree, mingling with the quiet sounds of the night. and somewhere, in the subtle space between casual conversation and shared history, something shifted—unspoken, but impossible to ignore. it wasn’t deliberate, not in the beginning, but it was undeniable. a quiet tension hung between you both, the kind that hummed just below the surface, like a chord waiting to be struck.

in the warm, dim light, the lines between friendship and something more began to blur. his lips brushed yours—not quite a kiss, but not exactly innocent either. the taste of wine lingered on his mouth, mingling with something darker, something deeper, something unspoken. your hands—almost of their own accord—found their way to each other, fingers tracing the outline of familiar paths, not quite daring to go any further. the touch was careful, deliberate, like a dance on the edge of something you both knew was dangerous, but too tempting to resist.

each kiss lingered just long enough to leave you wanting more, but never deepened enough to cross the line you both feared. the weight of unspoken rules hung between you, pulling back every time either of you tried to cross the line. clothes were the only barrier between you, a fragile wall that you both clung to, even as the urge to tear it down grew stronger.

but even in the silence, the weight of your unresolved feelings for baekhyun settled heavily in the room, a ghost that neither of you could escape. and chanyeol—he carried his own baggage. the loss of his wife, a wound that had never fully healed, leaving him to raise nari on his own, balancing grief and fatherhood in a way that only he understood. he wasn’t looking for more. not from you. not yet.

the timing was all wrong, the space between you wasn’t yours to claim. but in those rare moments, it felt as if maybe, just maybe, it could have been.

it was never spoken aloud, but you both knew the truth. chanyeol knew you still loved baekhyun, and that truth hung between you like a quiet weight. neither of you disturbed it. the unspoken agreement between you was that your daughters came first, no matter what. whatever might have blossomed between you, if it ever did, had to come naturally, unburdened by guilt or pretense.

but in those moments, when the air between you grew thick with something more, a quiet voice inside you would pull you back. it reminded you of the messy knots still holding your heart in place, the wounds that hadn’t yet healed. you couldn’t move forward—not yet. not while your heart was still tangled with baekhyun.

chanyeol, always the gentleman, never pushed. he was patient, always aware of your needs, always respectful of the boundaries you set. when you needed to talk, he listened; when you needed space, he gave it. but in the quiet of his own heart, he couldn’t help but feel more for you than he allowed himself to admit. how could he not? you were beautiful, strong, and a devoted mother. you embraced nari as your own, and in doing so, you made his heart ache in ways he couldn’t express. even knowing your heart was still tethered to someone else, he couldn’t stop himself from wishing—just for a moment—that maybe, just maybe, one day you’d find your way to him.

he carried that silent ache with the kind of grace only he could muster, never letting it slip, even as it quietly wore at him, just a little more each day.

so when you texted him—asking if he could pick up minji, keeping the explanation vague, not wanting him to worry—he was there. barely ten minutes later, a soft knock at your door echoed through the silence.

when you opened it, his wide eyes met the mess that was you—mascara streaks trailing down your cheeks, a crumpled tissue clenched in your trembling hand. you tried to muster a smile, but it felt paper-thin, your voice weak and brittle. “yeolie? what’s up?”

the words barely left your lips before he froze in place, his expression shifting from confusion to alarm. “a-are you okay? what’s going on? did someone—did something happen? is minji okay? are you sick? do you need me to take you to the hospital?” his voice cracked, the flood of questions spilling out in rapid succession, his panic tangible.

you stepped aside, pulling the door open wider, silently inviting him in. he didn’t hesitate, stepping through, his gaze glued to yours like he was searching for answers in your tear-stained face.

he trailed behind you to the couch, his presence steady and grounding as you collapsed onto the cushions, tears streaming freely. through shaky breaths, you unraveled the tangled mess of your day—the awkward reunion, the jumbled emotions, the weight of everything that seemed to be crumbling all at once. you didn’t dare admit the jealousy clawing at your chest, the hollow ache that filled you when baekhyun spoke about his fiancée with such love. that part you kept tucked away, too raw, too humiliating to expose.

chanyeol sat beside you, his towering frame a comforting shadow as he listened. really listened. his hand moved in soothing circles along your back, a silent reassurance that he wasn’t going anywhere.

your words poured out, no longer confined to just the events of the day but expanding into everything—the years that had passed, the guilt that had burrowed deep and refused to let go. every regret, every misstep, every weight you’d carried alone spilled out in a torrent of tears and confessions. and chanyeol just sat there, unwavering, holding space for you in the way only a true friend could.

“hey,” he began, his voice soft yet steady, as if anchoring you in the storm of your own thoughts. that signature dimpled smile appeared, warm and reassuring, carrying a kindness that made your chest tighten. “no one’s perfect,” he said, his gaze locking with yours, as though he could see the weight of your regret. “it’s okay to have moments you wish you could take back. you don’t need to have it all figured out right now—just take it one step at a time, yeah? what matters is where you go from here, and i know you’ll choose the right path.”

his hand brushed against yours, grounding you further. “no matter what, nari and i will always be here. for you and minji. you’re not in this alone.”

you swallowed hard, his words cutting through the mess of emotions tangled in your chest. the sincerity in his voice, the unwavering warmth in his eyes—it was almost too much. you nodded slowly, blinking back the tears threatening to spill.

“thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but you knew he heard it. “i don’t even know if i deserve this kind of support... but it means everything. truly.”

your fingers fidgeted with the edge of your sleeve, the weight of his reassurance settling over you like a safety net. the corner of your lips lifted into the faintest smile, a flicker of gratitude breaking through your doubt. “and…thank you, yeollie. for always being here for us.”

he pulled you into a hug, the kind only chanyeol could give—one that made you feel like you were wrapped in the coziest, softest blanket on the coldest day. his size alone made it impossible not to feel safe, like he could shield you from the entire world.

"stay put," he murmured, his voice low and soothing against your hair. "i’ll go pick up the girls. how about we pick up a pizza on the way home? maybe a bottle of wine to go with it?"

you couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled up, the weight on your chest lifting just enough to let it out. "yeah... i’d like that. thanks, yeol."

he grinned as he stood, his steps sure and familiar as he moved to the fridge. the sound of the door opening and bottles clinking against each other filled the room. when he returned, he handed you one of the water bottles, twisting the cap off for you with ease.

"drink up," he said, flicking a finger gently under your chin to tilt your head up, a playful glint in his eyes. "don’t need you passing out on me from dehydration."

his teasing tone, coupled with the affection in his gesture, made your heart feel a little lighter. you took the bottle from him, your fingers brushing his briefly, and for the first time all day, you felt a spark of comfort.

later that night, minji lay tucked beneath her soft quilt, her favorite bunny held close to her chest. the warm glow of the nightlight painted her face in soft hues, the shadows dancing gently across her room like a lullaby. you leaned over her small form, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. "i love you," you whispered, your voice a soothing murmur. "sleep tight, bun."

as your hand hovered over the light switch, her voice stopped you in your tracks, delicate yet filled with curiosity. "hey, mommy," she called, her tone innocent and thoughtful. "why does that doctor from earlier call you that, too?"

the question struck a chord deep within you, freezing you for a moment as your heart stumbled over itself. turning back toward her, you forced a smile, smoothing the sudden tension coiling in your chest. walking slowly to her bedside, you perched at the edge, meeting her wide, trusting eyes. "well," you started softly, your voice steady despite the fluttering unease within. "like dr. byun said, he's a really good friend of mine. that’s where i got your nickname, too."

her face lit up, her small smile so pure it made your heart ache. she nodded slowly, processing your words in that way only children can, her gaze thoughtful yet brimming with trust. "he was nice," she said, her tone sweet and certain. "i really liked him."

"yeah?" you asked, crouching down so your eyes were level with hers, the warmth of her sincerity wrapping around you like a blanket. her simple joy tugged at something tender within you. "would you like to see him again?"

her smile widened, blooming like the sun breaking through clouds. excitement sparkled in her eyes, her whole face lighting up in a way that mirrored her love for ice cream on hot afternoons. she nodded vigorously, her enthusiasm bubbling over.

"uh-huh!" she chirped, her joy infectious, spreading a flicker of warmth through your own heart.

you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound soft and full of love. "okay, bunny," you said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, your voice tender. "sleep tight, 'kay?" you pressed another soft kiss to her forehead, lingering for a moment, before turning off the light. the door clicked shut softly behind you.

standing in the hallway, your back against the cool wall, you let out a long, shaky breath, the weight of the day settling heavily in your chest. the silence was broken by a ping from your phone, pulling you out of your thoughts. you stared at the screen, the light illuminating your face as a new message appeared.

baekhyun:

thank you for today. let’s talk soon about how we move forward—together.

your chest tightened, the words settling over you like a heavy blanket. this was the beginning of something you hadn’t seen coming, something that made your pulse race with equal parts fear and exhilaration.

you responded quickly, almost without thinking:

you free tomorrow to go over details?

the path ahead was a little scary and clouded with uncertainty, but one thing was for sure: baekhyun was here, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

baekhyun and minji bonded quicker than you ever imagined. their first playdate was a sunny afternoon at the park, where baekhyun seemed completely absorbed in her. every giggle, every burst of energy as she dashed between slides and swings, every scrunched-nose smile lit up his face. it was as if he was trying to memorize every little detail about her, committing her essence to memory. minji, ever the social butterfly, welcomed him without hesitation—just as she did her classmates, her teachers, and even chanyeol.

chanyeol.

his name slipped into your thoughts uninvited, a shadow that tugged at your focus. why were you thinking about him now? you blinked hard, shaking the thought away. the last thing you needed was to let another layer of complication invade your already chaotic emotions.

then came that afternoon. baekhyun had come to drop minji off at your place, the usual familiarity of the moment interrupted by the unexpected. when the door swung open, it wasn’t you standing there—it was chanyeol.

“baekhyun, right?” chanyeol greeted him warmly, his easy smile bright enough to momentarily disarm. his dimple pressed deep into his cheek, as if it was carved there just for moments like this. snapping his fingers in playful recognition, he added, “i’ve heard so much about you.” he gestured casually over his shoulder, as if to invite baekhyun in. “i’m chanyeol. and that’s nari over there.”

baekhyun froze, the weight of the moment pressing down on him like an invisible force. for a split second, his expression faltered, eyes flickering to the cheerful little girl in the background, her laughter filling the air. then, his gaze shifted back to chanyeol, studying him with a quiet intensity. there was something unspoken in the air between them, subtle yet impossible to ignore—a tension that lingered like a low hum.

his eyes darted past chanyeol, chest tightening as they landed on you. you were seated on the floor, cross-legged, a radiant smile stretching across your face as you and nari played with minji’s toys. the sound of your laughter, bright and unguarded, hit him square in the chest, stirring something raw and vulnerable deep inside him. you looked so at ease, as if the joy spilling from you was effortless, untouched by the weight of the past.

“hi, chanyeol!” minji’s voice rang out, cutting through the fog of his thoughts. her tiny arms stretched toward the tall man, her excitement spilling over in a cheerful squeal.

chanyeol didn’t hesitate, scooping her up with the ease of someone who’d done it a hundred times before. “i missed you!” minji giggled, wrapping her small arms tightly around his neck.

“i missed you too, bun,” chanyeol replied with a wide grin, holding her close.

baekhyun’s stomach twisted, the word hitting him like a slap. bun. his nickname for her. no—their nickname. a sharp possessiveness surged through him, hot and consuming. did chanyeol call you that too? the thought crept in like a poison, making his jaw tighten. it was irrational, and yet it burned, carving out a hollow ache in his chest.

you stood then, walking toward them, your smile warm and glowing like the softest light. chanyeol still had minji perched on his hip, cradling her as if she were his own. he leaned in, planting an exaggerated, playful kiss on her cheek, earning a burst of delighted giggles from her.

the sound, the sight of it all—your ease, minji’s trust, chanyeol’s familiarity—brought baekhyun to the edge. his chest tightened, his breathing shallow, and for a brief, unsteady moment, he felt like he might collapse under the weight of it. the life he wanted was right in front of him, his life, and yet, it felt just out of reach.

“i missed you, bunny,” you murmured, your fingers tenderly brushing through her soft, dark hair. minji tilted her head up to you, her eyes glittering like tiny stars. then she turned to him, her small hand waving eagerly. “bye, baekhyun!” she chirped, her voice bright and pure, her little toothy grin so heartbreakingly innocent it nearly brought him to his knees.

baekhyun’s chest tightened, the pressure unbearable. how could something so sweet hurt so much?

you stepped closer, and for a fleeting moment, baekhyun forgot how to breathe. your smile was warm, easy, and devastatingly familiar—a smile that used to be his. it softened the tension hanging in the air, but to him, it cut deeper than any blade.

“thanks for picking her up from daycare,” you said, your voice gentle, almost apologetic. the sincerity in your tone slipped past every defense he’d tried to build since that day you walked back into his life. “did you wanna come inside for a bit? we usually do taco tuesdays with chanyeol and nari. you’re more than welcome to join us.”

your words were casual, but the invitation felt anything but. “i think it’d be great, actually,” you added, your voice bright with optimism. “since chanyeol’s been in minji’s life for a little over a year now.”

the floor seemed to tilt beneath him. his body stiffened, and a violent twist gripped his heart. chanyeol. a year. the words echoed mercilessly in his mind, louder and louder until they drowned out everything else. he wanted to tell you no, to scream it, to tell you he’d rather rip his chest open and claw his heart out than walk into that house and see the life you were building without him. a life that looked so perfect. a life where he was nothing but a footnote.

instead, he forced a smile—thin, hollow, the kind of smile that only deepened the cracks in his façade. it was nothing more than a mask, a feeble attempt to conceal the storm raging beneath his skin. “i’m actually in a hurry,” he said, the words stiff and unnatural as they stumbled off his tongue. “gotta get to the clinic.”

a lie, plain and simple. it came too easily, slipping past his lips like second nature. the instant it escaped, he felt the sick churn of regret twisting in his stomach, his voice betraying him with a clipped edge he couldn’t quite hide.

your head tilted slightly, confusion flickering across your face like a shadow. “didn’t you guys already close for the day?” you asked, your brows knitting together in that subtle way that always made his chest ache. “it’s past six.”

his pulse stuttered, a silent curse tumbling through his mind as he fumbled for an answer that wouldn’t shatter the fragile distance he was desperately clinging to. but nothing came. nothing convincing enough. nothing that didn’t feel like quicksand.

his feet shifted instinctively, retreating before his resolve could crumble further. “charts and prescriptions and... you know, stuff,” he mumbled, taking an awkward step back. “i’ll see you later.”

before you could say another word, he turned, walking briskly toward his car. his steps were measured, his pride refusing to let him break into a full-on sprint, even as his heart hammered like a war drum. every step felt heavier than the last, the weight of his lie and your confusion pressing down on him like a vice.

he didn’t dare look back. if he did, he knew he wouldn’t have the strength to keep going.

from behind him, minji’s giggles rang out like music, the sound breaking through the thickness in the air. you were pressing playful kisses to her cheeks, your exaggerated smooches sending her into a fit of laughter.

it was almost too much. the scene—the two of you together, so natural, so perfect—made his knees weak. he gripped the handle of his car door and paused, his chest heaving as he fought the urge to look back. to stay.

but he didn’t. he slid into the driver’s seat and pulled away, leaving behind the ache that followed him everywhere you and minji weren’t.

as baekhyun drove away, his grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles turned a stark white. the image of you standing there with chanyeol and the two girls—your girls—seared into his mind, an indelible mark he couldn’t shake. you looked like a perfect family, like something pulled straight out of a dream. but for baekhyun, it was nothing short of a nightmare.

every mile he put between himself and your door pressed harder on the ache in his chest. his thoughts roared louder than the hum of the engine, drowning out everything but one relentless truth: that should’ve been me.

he couldn’t keep doing this—living in the fragile shell of a life that barely held him together. pretending he was fine without you, without minji. pretending that every day apart wasn’t hollow, wasn’t agony. each moment away from the two of you felt like a wound he couldn’t heal, the kind that gnawed at him constantly, leaving him restless and raw.

he dragged a trembling hand through his hair as the silence around him became unbearable. pacing the length of his living room later that night, his mind was still trapped back at your doorstep. he could hear your laugh echoing in his ears, the way it always lit up every corner of his world. the memory of your voice, soft and full of meaning, saying his name. minji’s tiny hands gripping his, her trust as effortless as her love. every memory sharpened the longing, the undeniable knowledge that you were his. you always had been. and yet, here he was—stuck in a life that felt like it belonged to someone else.

it wasn’t fair. not to him. not to you. and certainly not to her. the woman waiting for him at home, wearing the ring he had slipped onto her finger when he was too weak to face the truth. she deserved more. she deserved better. she deserved a man who wasn’t haunted by another woman’s smile, another child’s laughter.

his fists clenched at his sides as the weight of his choices bore down on him. guilt dug into him like a blade, twisting with every second. and yet, beneath it all, one truth burned brighter than anything else: he needed you. he needed you and minji, your warmth, your chaos, the life you had created without him.

he could feel it unraveling, the lie he was clinging to. every passing day stretched it thinner, threatening to snap. and when it did, he wasn’t sure what would be left of him—only that it wouldn’t be enough without you.

after a few more park playdates, you invited baekhyun over for dinner. when he arrived, he held two bouquets—one vibrant and blooming for you, and a smaller, delicate arrangement for minji.

minji’s face lit up as she clutched her flowers, her excitement spilling over as she helped baekhyun carefully arrange them in vases. you watched from the kitchen, your hands busy with dinner but your heart quietly swelling at the sight of them together.

dinner came and went in a blur of laughter and easy conversation. afterward, baekhyun insisted on helping clean up, minji trailing behind him like his little shadow. yet through it all, you couldn’t ignore the way his gaze lingered on you—soft, almost yearning. and every time you caught him, he’d quickly look away, his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink.

you tried to brush it off, convincing yourself it was nothing. that the bouquet meant nothing. but your heart betrayed you, skipping a beat every time your eyes met. your cheeks warmed under his gaze, though you told yourself it was absurd. he’s engaged, you reminded yourself firmly. he’s in love with someone else. it’s not you anymore. it hasn’t been for years.

later, baekhyun offered to get minji ready for bed, his enthusiasm lighting up the room. he approached each part of her bedtime routine with such care—a playful splash during her bath, patient encouragement as she brushed her teeth, and a warm smile as he read her a bedtime story.

you stood in the hallway, listening to her giggles and his gentle voice, your chest tightening with a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite name.

you walked back to the kitchen, the soft hum of the house wrapping around you as you reached for the wine bottle. the deep red liquid swirled as you poured it into two glasses, the rich aroma curling in the air. baekhyun had worked magic tonight, easing a rowdy toddler into sleep as if it were the simplest thing in the world. the image of him tucking minji in still lingered in your mind—a quiet smile on his face, his touch gentle but sure.

you thought about all the time you and minji had been spending with baekhyun lately felt like something out of a dream. it was everything you’d ever wished for but never thought you’d have. he slipped so seamlessly into her world, as if he’d always been there. their bond was undeniable—tickle fights that left her squealing with laughter, quiet moments where she leaned into him with absolute trust. watching them together only deepened the ache in your chest, the one that whispered how foolish you’d been to keep her from him for so long.

you told him as much one late afternoon, after a long stroll through the park. minji had fallen asleep in his arms, her little body spent from an afternoon of running through the playground while he chased her, pretending to be some silly monster. her tiny cheek squished against his shoulder, her breath soft and steady as she drooled onto his jacket. the two of you had laughed quietly, careful not to wake her.

“guess she’s making up for all the times it was you she drooled on instead,” he teased with a smirk, his voice warm and low.

it was in that fragile, golden moment that the words you’d been holding back tumbled out. “baekhyun, i... i’ve been feeling so awful. i’m not saying this for pity, i just—every time i see you with her, the guilt claws at me. i can’t believe i kept her from you for so long…i’m so sorry.”

your voice cracked, and then there were tears—hot, stinging, relentless.

baekhyun stopped in his tracks, his steps crunching against the gravel path as he gently grabbed your arm. his touch was firm but steady, grounding. he turned you to face him, his gaze steady, unwavering.

“hey,” he said softly, his voice pulling you out of your spiral. “what matters is now. and the future. i trust you, and i know you won’t keep her from me again. i’ve forgiven you... but maybe it’s time you forgave yourself.”

his words settled over you like a balm, soothing and unyielding, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the weight of your guilt began to feel a little lighter.

you’re pulled from your thoughts by the soft click of her bedroom door, the quiet shuffle of baekhyun’s steps filling the silence as he makes his way toward you. you know the sound of his walk so well, even after all these years. it’s comforting, familiar—the same measured rhythm, the same ease. in so many ways, he hasn’t changed. his laugh, his warm personality, the way his eyes crinkle into crescent moons when he smiles.

“she’s out,” he announces from the hallway, his voice soft but tinged with satisfaction as he spots you at the dining table.

you hand him the glass of wine you’d poured moments before, holding it out like a peace offering. “this is for all your hard work,” you tease, a light grin tugging at your lips.

he chuckles, the sound low and warm as he takes the glass from your hand, his fingers grazing yours for a fleeting second. the touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, unexpected but unmistakable, and you quickly avert your gaze, staring down at the table like it holds all the answers.

he settles into the chair beside you, close enough that you can feel the faint warmth radiating from him. you sip your wine, trying to steady yourself, before speaking. “so... have you and soo talked about setting up a time to meet her?”

his face shifts at the mention of her name. the change is subtle but telling—a flicker of discomfort, the kind you can’t unsee once you notice it.

“yeah,” he says after a pause, his fingers fidgeting with the stem of the wine glass. he takes a sip before continuing, his tone quieter now. “i actually wanted to talk to you about her.”

your heart sinks, unease settling in your chest like a stone. “oh?” you ask, cautious. “is everything okay?”

the worst thoughts swirl in your mind, a storm of possibilities. maybe she doesn’t want baekhyun spending time with minji. maybe she’s uncomfortable with you being part of the equation.

he exhales sharply, his thumb brushing against the rim of the glass. “yeah... i mean, i guess.” there’s a pause, a weight to his words that makes you hold your breath. “the engagement’s been called off.” his voice is steady, almost too steady, as if rehearsed.

your jaw drops before you can stop it. the shock is written all over your face, and baekhyun winces at your reaction, his gaze darting away. you quickly compose yourself, snapping your mouth shut as heat rises to your cheeks. “what happened?” you blurt, the words spilling out before you can think twice. “you seemed... so happy.”

your voice falters, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve overstepped. the weight of your question lingers between you, heavy and unspoken, and you brace yourself for whatever comes next.

“i was. or... at least, i thought i was,” he says, his voice low and almost hesitant, as if he’s afraid to admit it even to himself. his hand moves to his hair, ruffling it in that familiar way he always did when the weight of his thoughts pressed too hard on him. a reflex, a habit you never forgot.

“and then you walked back into my life.” his voice is quiet, but there’s a rawness to it, like he’s pulling the words straight from the deepest part of him. your breath hitches, the air between you growing unbearably still as his gaze locks onto yours. there’s something in his eyes—something aching, desperate, like he’s trying to hold himself together while unraveling all at once.

“with her,” he continues, his voice breaking just enough to make your chest tighten, “this little girl who’s... everything. everything i didn’t know i was missing. she’s you and me, all tangled up in the most perfect way.” he swallows hard, his jaw clenching as though he’s fighting to steady himself. “and suddenly, nothing else makes sense anymore. not without you. not without her.”

the moment those words left his lips, the air seemed to shift. everything stilled—the hum of the world faded into silence, leaving only the thunderous echo of your heartbeat in your ears. had he really said that? the words hung between you, raw and unguarded, threatening to unravel everything you thought you understood.

his eyes searched yours, hesitant but resolute, as if willing you to see the truth in his gaze. when he spoke again, his voice softened, carrying a weight that made your breath hitch. “and the more time i spent with you both... the more i realized you’re what i want. you and minji. you’re what i really want in my life.”

his confession hit you with the force of a tidal wave, knocking the air from your lungs. you felt the ground tilt beneath you, the walls you’d carefully built around your heart quaking under the pressure of his words.

“baekhyun…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, your chest tightening as you forced yourself to ask, “are you… are you serious?”

but you already knew the answer. you could see it, clear as day, in the way his gaze didn’t waver.

“we can take our time… start slow,” baekhyun exhales, his voice carrying the weight of his confession as if it had been lodged in his chest for years. the vulnerability in his tone is raw, unguarded, and it almost makes you forget to breathe. “i mean… if that’s what you want, too.”

his words trail off, and for a moment, his usual confidence falters. a quiet doubt creeps into his thoughts—what if you’ve moved on? what if you don’t want this? the possibility churns in his mind, making him feel smaller, suddenly unsure.

“sorry,” he blurts out, shaking his head, gaze dropping to the floor. “i shouldn’t have said that—”

“no,” you interrupt, your voice firm but gentle, grounding him. your hand finds his, your fingers curling around his in a touch that feels achingly familiar, as though no time has passed. the warmth of his skin against yours sends a spark racing through your veins, a reassurance you didn’t realize you both needed.

he looks up, his eyes wide with hesitation, and you hold his gaze. “i’d… actually like that,” you admit, your voice softer now, a smile tugging at your lips. “start slow and see where we go.”

his shoulders visibly relax, and the faintest glimmer of hope flickers in his eyes. he squeezes your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, and for the first time in a long time, it feels like the two of you are stepping into something whole and unbroken.

two weeks later, you stood in front of your closet, the door wide open and a growing pile of discarded clothes spilling onto the floor.

you were getting ready for a date.

with baekhyun.

your first date as parents.

the thought made your stomach flip with nerves and excitement. it felt surreal, almost like stepping into a story you didn’t dare dream for yourself. but as much as the idea of this new beginning thrilled you, the reality of your wardrobe—or lack thereof—was starting to feel like a nightmare.

minji was spending the evening with chanyeol and nari, her overnight bag already packed and slung over chanyeol’s shoulder when he came to pick her up. you couldn’t miss the way his expression shifted when you told him the reason for the favor, his smile faltering for the briefest second.

“it’s just dinner,” you’d explained softly. “we’re taking things slow, seeing where it goes.”

chanyeol had nodded, his lips pressing into a tight line. he couldn’t quite mask the pain in his eyes, though he tried.

“of course,” he’d said eventually, his voice steady despite the storm you could feel brewing beneath. “you know i’m always here for you…and minji.”

because that was just who chanyeol was—a steady, selfless anchor, even when it hurt.

now, as you tore through hangers and drawers, you glanced at your phone, a spike of panic shooting through you. less than two hours. how had the time slipped away so fast?

you groaned, flopping onto your bed as you stared at the heap of options that just weren’t right. nothing screamed ‘first date with the father of your child.’ nothing said ‘i’m nervous but excited and maybe a little terrified but i also want to look stunning.’

baekhyun.

you imagined the moment baekhyun would arrive, the image of him clear in your mind as if he were already standing at your door. he’d look effortlessly polished, the way only he could manage—like he’d stepped out of a magazine without even trying. his shirt would probably hug his lean frame just right, the soft fabric teasing at the lines of his shoulders and chest. his hair, always perfectly imperfect, would fall into place with a casualness that made you suspect he’d only run his fingers through it once before heading out.

and then there were his eyes—those warm, honeyed depths that had a way of making the world feel quieter, smaller. they carried a quiet determination now, a depth that hadn’t always been there, like the years apart had reshaped him, sharpened his focus. you could almost see the subtle tilt of his lips when he caught sight of you, a smile that wasn’t overly practiced but natural, like it belonged there because you did.

he never needed much time to get ready, and yet he always looked like he did. that was the thing about baekhyun—everything about him was easy, seamless, like he existed in his own effortless rhythm. it wasn’t about the clothes he chose or the way he styled his hair; it was about the energy he carried, the quiet confidence that drew people in.

and tonight, he’d be coming to pick you up—not just as the baekhyun you’d known before, but as someone determined to start fresh, someone who wanted to show you that maybe, just maybe, this could really work out.

you exhaled deeply, steadying yourself as you slid off the bed. pull it together, you thought, brushing your curled hair out of your face. tonight wasn’t just another evening—it felt like the start of something new, something tentative and hopeful, and you wanted to look the part. not just for baekhyun, but for yourself. you wanted to feel like the best version of you—the woman you were before, and the woman you were becoming.

your eyes drifted toward the top of your closet, where an old, forgotten box rested among stacks of seasonal items and spare blankets. a spark of hope flickered. you vaguely remembered stuffing your pre-pregnancy clothes up there, unable to let them go but convinced they might never fit again. now, that box felt like a treasure chest waiting to be rediscovered.

grabbing a step ladder, you climbed carefully, brushing the thick layer of dust from the box’s lid before tugging it down. a cloud of nostalgia seemed to escape as you peeled it open. there they were—rows of fabrics, textures, and memories you hadn’t touched in years. silky blouses, form-fitting dresses, sleek skirts... all the outfits you used to wear when going out felt like a second skin.

you sifted through them, piece by piece, fingers grazing over familiar fabrics as your heart swelled with a mix of apprehension and excitement. you pulled out a sleek dress, holding it up against yourself in the mirror. to your delight—and a little disbelief—it still fit, hugging your post-pregnancy curves in ways that made you feel both proud and beautiful.

you were finishing the last touches on your hair and makeup when the doorbell rang, slicing through the air like a sudden jolt. a flutter of butterflies stirred in your stomach, their wings beating furiously as nerves surged through you all at once. instinctively, you reached for your perfume, spritzing it lightly over your neck, the familiar scent wrapping around you like a soft, comforting embrace.

you took a long, steadying breath, eyes tracing your reflection in the mirror, checking every detail—the delicate curve of your lashes, the soft glow of your skin, the way your lips curved just right. you stepped back, allowing yourself a moment to really see the woman in front of you. had it really been so long since you dressed up like this? for anyone? the question lingered in the air.

and then it hit you, clear as day. it had been since baekhyun. a quiet chuckle escaped your lips as you shook your head, bemused by the realization. there was something about tonight that felt different, something about this moment, this new chapter, that made everything feel... significant.

with a final glance at your reflection, you straightened up, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. you walked toward the door, each step a little more deliberate, a little more full of purpose. this wasn’t just a date. this was something else entirely.

when the door swung open and baekhyun saw you, his breath hitched, the air suddenly too thick to pull into his lungs. his gaze swept over you, deliberate and slow, as if his mind needed time to register every curve, every detail, every shimmer of the fabric that clung to you. his heart thundered in his chest, a wild rhythm he couldn’t control, and for a moment, all he could do was stare.

you were devastating. the dress—that dress—hugged you perfectly, its soft sheen catching the dim hallway light, every subtle movement making it seem alive, as though it had been designed for this exact moment. it was the same one you’d worn before, in a memory he kept locked away for years. back then, you’d twirled in front of him, laughing, your joy so infectious it had carved itself into his soul. seeing it again now, seeing you now, was almost too much.

but this wasn’t just a walk down memory lane. this wasn’t then. everything was different now—he was different, you were different. yet, somehow, that pull between you felt as raw and undeniable as it had the first time he’d laid eyes on you.

except now, you weren’t just the girl he’d loved with everything in him, the girl he’d lost, the girl he thought he’d never have again. you were minji’s mother. his daughter’s mother. and seeing you like this—so stunning it almost hurt—sent a new kind of longing through him. it wasn’t just want, though god, he wanted you. it was need, aching and all-consuming, a yearning that went far beyond physical desire. he needed to prove himself, to prove that he could be more for you, for minji. that this time, he wouldn’t let you slip away.

his hands twitched at his sides, desperate to reach for you, to touch, to hold, to pull you close enough to feel the warmth of your body against his. the temptation was staggering, nearly unbearable. his mind flickered with flashes of all the ways he wanted you—how it would feel to bury his face in your neck, to whisper promises against your skin, to hear you say his name like you used to.

but he held himself back, swallowing hard, locking it all down. not now. he couldn’t rush this. he couldn’t risk ruining it.

when his eyes met yours, his lips curved into the softest of smiles, one that didn’t quite mask the storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface. “you…” he paused, his voice catching before he found it again. “you look incredible.” the words came out low, steady, but there was no mistaking the weight behind them.

for a brief second, his eyes dropped back to the dress, his mind betraying him with an image of it lying forgotten on the floor, of you in his arms, of everything he was fighting to keep at bay. the thought made his chest tighten, and he let out a soft chuckle, as if to diffuse the tension he felt coiled so tightly within him.

but he didn’t move. not yet. instead, he let the moment stretch, imagining the day when he wouldn’t have to hold back, when he wouldn’t have to hesitate. when he could love you the way he wanted to—completely, without fear, without doubt, without restraint.

after dinner, the two of you strolled back to your place, the night humming with the warmth of shared laughter and lingering glances. the soft glow of streetlights cast a golden sheen over everything, making the world feel dreamlike, almost suspended in time. the wine coursing through your veins made the air lighter, the edges of reality softer, as though nothing truly mattered except the man walking beside you.

when you reached the door, your fingers fumbled with the keys, the metal slipping awkwardly in your grasp. you giggled, a sound so sweet it made baekhyun’s chest tighten. he stood behind you, his presence warm and steady, his hands gently finding their way to your waist. his touch was light, but it burned in the most delicious way.

“need a hand?” he asked, his voice low, teasing, his breath grazing your ear as he leaned closer.

you turned your head just slightly, your smile playful. “please,” you murmured, trying—and failing—to mask the way his closeness made your pulse quicken.

together, you managed to coax the door open, his hand guiding yours with a deliberate slowness that made you shiver. once inside, he closed the door behind him with a quiet click, the sound reverberating through the stillness of the space.

“nightcap?” you asked, your tone casual, though the mischief in your eyes betrayed you. your cheeks were warm, not just from the wine but from the way his gaze lingered, heavy and intent.

baekhyun didn’t answer right away. his eyes stayed locked on you, tracing the curve of your cheek, the way your lips curled into that familiar, teasing grin. his gaze dipped lower, lingering on the dress that clung to you like a second skin. that dress. the one he couldn’t stop thinking about all night, the one he wanted to peel off you with his teeth.

he swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as he fought to keep himself in check. the air between you thickened, crackling with an unspoken tension. he took a slow, deliberate step closer, the movement barely noticeable, but the way his eyes darkened said everything his lips couldn’t.

“yeah,” he finally murmured, his voice low, rough around the edges. “a nightcap sounds good.”

but it wasn’t the drink he wanted. no, the only thing he wanted was standing right in front of him, flushed and radiant, looking at him with eyes that could undo him in a heartbeat. every instinct screamed at him to close the space, to kiss you breathless, to pull you into him and never let go. but he didn’t. not yet. he was holding onto a thread of control, as thin and fragile as the air between you.

for now, he could wait. but god, you were making it impossible.

he could barely hold himself together, his self-control stretched thinner with each passing second. honestly, he deserved an award—no, a damn medal—for the composure he managed to keep throughout dinner. every moment was its own quiet war, every glance from you a calculated blow, every soft laugh a fatal shot to his already fragile defenses. your presence was a sweet, maddening intoxication, pulling him under in waves he couldn’t escape.

the way you looked at him—those eyes full of something gentle, something tender, something that felt like home—was almost his undoing. his fingers curled tightly against his thighs, his knuckles blanching as he fought the urge to reach for you. your smile, radiant and unguarded, had him aching in ways he thought he’d forgotten, stirring something raw and desperate in the pit of his stomach. and your voice—god, your voice—danced through the air, warm and melodic, like the first song he’d ever loved.

and then there were those moments when you looked at him, really looked at him. it was in the softness of your gaze, the way it lingered a second too long, the way it stripped him bare without a single word. it was as if you still saw him—truly saw him—the way you used to, back when you were his. that look, full of unspoken truths, clung to him like an echo, whispering things he didn’t dare hope for. you still love me. you still love me. the thought struck like lightning, leaving him dazed and breathless, his pulse thundering in his ears.

his chest tightened with the weight of it all—the yearning, the disbelief, the sheer impossibility of the moment. it was as though everything that had gone wrong, all the time that had stretched between you, suddenly dissolved, rendered meaningless in the face of this. it was just the two of you now, the world fading into a blurry background, holding its breath as if waiting for him to do what every fiber of his being screamed for: close the distance.

the need was relentless, searing through him like fire. his fingers twitched with the urge to touch you, to cradle your face in his hands and trace the contours of your cheek, to see if your skin still felt as soft as he remembered. his lips burned with the craving to kiss you, to taste the laughter that had tormented him all night, to claim the love he had been starving for since the day you walked away.

it had been almost four agonizing years since you left him behind, taking the light of his world with you. he thought he’d buried the pain, that he’d learned to live with the emptiness you left. but now, here you were, so close he could hear the rhythm of your breaths, feel the warmth radiating from your skin. and he realized with a clarity that stole the air from his lungs: none of that pain mattered anymore. not the silence, not the heartbreak, not the years. all that mattered was you—here, now, in front of him.

his breath hitched at the thought, and he found himself imagining what it would feel like when he finally kissed you again. his lips hovering just inches from yours, the space between you crackling with tension. he could already feel the pull, that same magnetic connection that had always been there, waiting for the moment he could touch you. and when their lips finally met, he knew—he knew—it would be just like before. that same sweetness, that same softness, the curve of your lips fitting perfectly against his, like you were always meant to belong to him.

no one had ever kissed him the way you did. no one else had ever left him breathless, drowning in the intensity of it, as if your kiss had the power to remake him. and god, he wanted it again. needed it.

he wanted you, wanted you so badly, the need pooling in his chest, a hot, tight ache he couldn’t ignore. he could already taste you, feel the warmth of your lips beneath his. he remembered how your kiss had once made him feel weightless, like he was falling into something beautiful, intoxicating. it was all he’d thought about the entire night.

and the way you looked now, that dress clinging to you like it had all those years ago, just made him ache even more. he couldn’t stop the images running through his mind—ripping it off of you, feeling your body pressed against his, tasting the sweetness of your kiss once again, just like he had done so many times before. the desire to feel you underneath him, to bury himself in the softness of you, was almost unbearable. he wanted it. he wanted you.

but instead, he nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “yeah,” he breathed, his voice thick with barely contained longing, “yeah, a nightcap sounds good.”

his fingers twitched, wanting nothing more than to touch you, but he held himself back, feeling the heat rise between you both, a tension so thick it was almost unbearable.

"here, let me pour the drinks for us," he murmured, his voice low and steady as he took your jacket and purse, hanging them with a quiet care on the coat rack.

you raised an eyebrow, teasing, "oh?" the corners of your lips twitched, fighting back a smile as you bit your bottom lip. your lashes fluttered lightly, casting delicate shadows across your cheeks as you met his gaze. "i’m just getting spoiled tonight, aren’t i?" you teased, the memory of how he'd practically wrestled the check from your hands earlier still fresh in your mind. it made you laugh softly, a sound that seemed to melt into the air.

but before you could say anything more, he was there, his hand coming up instinctively to cup your cheek. the warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, his thumb brushing lightly against the softness of your skin, tracing the curve of your cheek, your chin, and finally resting just below your lower lip. his touch was so gentle, so deliberate, and yet it stirred something deeper inside you—a quiet yearning that you were both trying to contain.

you met his eyes, searching his face, knowing the unspoken truth before he even voiced it. you could see it—the way his gaze lingered, the way his breath hitched just slightly as he studied you. he wanted to kiss you. you could feel the tension rising, thick and palpable between you, but still, he held back, the weight of restraint pressing on him.

not wanting to push him, you offered him a sweet, reassuring smile, the kind that spoke of understanding without words. the sight of it seemed to stop him in his tracks, and his heart skipped a beat, his breath catching in his throat.

baekhyun’s lips curved into a playful smirk. “spoiled?” he echoed, leaning in just slightly, enough for his voice to drop a fraction, rich and smooth. “c’mon, bun, i’m sure you remember what me spoiling you really looks like.”

his words hit like a soft nudge to a locked door, memories rushing in before you could stop them. you remembered the way he used to spoil you relentlessly back in college, how his love language seemed to be written in lavish gifts and thoughtful gestures. designer handbags you could never justify buying for yourself, delicate jewelry that always seemed to match the sparkle in his eyes when he fastened the clasps himself.

he’d surprise you with new outfits for events you didn’t even know you’d be attending until he planned them—your wardrobe practically transformed by his generosity. every time the newest iphone dropped, he’d make sure it was in your hands within days, complete with a customized case he knew you’d love. he’d slip his card to waiters or store clerks before you could even think to pay.

and then there were the practical things, like covering your car payments or arranging maintenance before you even realized you needed it, his way of taking care of you without ever making you feel small for it. he never wanted you to stress, and you’d laugh at the absurdity of it all while secretly melting at the way he seemed to know what you needed before you did.

baekhyun had money. plenty of it. his family’s wealth wasn’t something he flaunted, but it was there, shaping the way he provided for you. your family wasn’t poor, but you didn’t have the same financial ease. you worked hard for the things you had, but baekhyun never made you feel less than, never made you uncomfortable about it. his quiet humility and the way he never flaunted his wealth made it all feel normal—money was never the issue. it was always about the love you shared.

you swallowed hard, heat creeping up your neck as you met his gaze again. his eyes were on you now, softer but still teasing, as if he could tell exactly where your thoughts had gone. “besides” he murmured, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary. “i’m just making up for lost time. can you blame me?”

one glass turned into two, then three, each sip loosening the tension in the air, but also building something new between you, something heady and electric. laughter spilled from your lips, the sound light and careless, but underneath it, a growing warmth that neither of you could ignore. the night seemed to blur around the edges, the wine clouding your thoughts, making everything softer, more daring.

the bottles emptied one by one, their presence a witness to the hours that had melted away as you lingered in each other’s company. the glasses tipped over, forgotten, their contents pooling on the floor like spilled memories. it didn’t matter. nothing mattered except the way he looked at you—intensely, as if every part of him was drawn to you in a way that left him no choice but to pull you closer.

and then, he kissed you.

it was slow at first, almost tentative, like he was relearning the shape of your lips, the rhythm of your breath. but it didn’t stay that way for long. in an instant, the kiss deepened, the years of separation melting into a blur of heat and urgency. his hands found your waist, pulling you closer—closer, until you were climbing into his lap, your legs straddling him without hesitation.

his mouth was scorching, addictive, just like you remembered. it was the taste of him, rich like wine but unmistakably him—a flavor you thought you’d buried, but now you realized you could never forget. his kisses were messy, hungry, each one leaving you breathless as soft moans and breathless whimpers slipped between you. his hands roamed with purpose, sliding down to cup your ass, pulling you flush against him. his grip was firm, possessive, so achingly familiar that it made your head spin.

you felt the growing bulge beneath you, hard and urgent, straining against his pants. the pressure sent a sharp jolt of need straight to your core, igniting a fire you couldn’t ignore. warmth pooled between your legs, soaking you as your hips rocked instinctively against him. a deep, guttural groan escaped him, vibrating against your lips as you kissed him harder, hungrier.

“i missed you,” you breathed, the words tumbling from your lips as they traveled to the curve of his neck. you nipped at the sensitive skin below his ear, the spot you knew drove him wild. sure enough, a soft, desperate moan spilled from him, and you smiled against his skin, savoring the sound of him unraveling beneath you.

"i love you, bun," he whispered, his voice soft yet heavy with meaning, a tremor of raw emotion in every word. his gaze, unwavering and intense, locked onto yours, as if he could reach inside you with just a look. his lips brushed yours, so lightly it almost felt like a delicate promise. "i... i don’t think i ever stopped."

the words crashed into you, like a wave breaking against the shore, unexpected yet inevitable. your heart skipped, breath caught in your chest as the depth of his confession wrapped around you, pulling you under. "i love you, too, baekhyun," you breathed, your voice barely more than a whisper, but steady—anchored in the truth that had always been there, buried beneath the years of silence. "i never stopped."

and then, his lips were on yours again, and it was as if the world snapped back into place, the pieces aligning with the force of your shared confession. finally, it felt like home. like you were where you were always meant to be. your body responded instinctively, moving closer, desperate to feel the heat that had always simmered between you two. you ground against him, slow, deliberate, an aching need rising in you both. the friction between you sent jolts of electricity through your veins, a fire sparking to life as you felt him tense beneath you, his hands tightening on your hips.

for a brief moment, you thought he'd pull you in fully, lose himself in the moment as much as you were. but instead, his body went rigid, stilling beneath you as if every muscle had locked in place.

"wait—" his voice cracked, the sound thick with a dangerous mix of yearning and restraint. his hands stilled your movements, holding you in place. you could feel his chest rise and fall beneath you, shallow breaths betraying the storm inside him. "i don’t want to pressure you into anything you’re not ready for. i know we agreed to take things slow. i can wait."

his words cut through the haze of your desire, stopping you dead in your tracks. the sincerity in his eyes hit you like a tidal wave. he was holding back—for you.

for you.

the ache in your chest was sharp, but in the best possible way.

without saying a word, you reached down, sliding his hand beneath your dress, guiding him to where you were already burning. his breath caught when his fingers brushed against your bare skin. his eyes widened, shock crossing his features as he realized you weren’t wearing anything underneath.

"feel how wet you’ve made me?" you whispered, your lips grazing his ear, your voice low, sultry, teasing. the way his chest moves as his breathing becomes more deeper, heavier as if it’s taking everything in him not to put his fingers to work on that sloppy cunt of yours. you could feel his restraint fraying, and you couldn’t help but smile.

"still think i wanna take things slow?" you teased, your thumb tracing the curve of his bottom lip, urging him to act.

you could feel his body tremble under your touch, his hands shaking slightly as he adjusted, his fingers just barely grazing where you needed him most. the hunger in his eyes was almost unbearable, and you leaned in closer, brushing your lips over his jaw, waiting for him to break.

his composure shattered. his eyes fluttered shut as you brought his slick-coated fingers to your mouth, your tongue swirling around them slowly, deliberately. the taste of yourself on him was heady, and you sucked his fingers clean, the act sending a shiver down his spine.

“fuck,” he groaned, his voice thick with hunger. “ya sure about this, bun?” each syllable a desperate plea as his restraint teetered dangerously close to breaking.

you nodded, eyes wide and shimmering with a mix of innocence and promise. your lashes fluttered like the softest caress as you looked up at him, lips swollen and bruised from his fevered kisses, a delicate pout lingering on them. the sight of made his dick twitch. “always been sure when it comes to you, baek.”

the words hit him like a wave, and with a shuddering sigh, he couldn’t hold back anymore. his lips crashed against yours, possessive and hungry, claiming you as if he’d never get another chance. one arm wrapped around your head, fingers threading through your hair with a desperate need, while the other hand slid to your ass, squeezing it roughly. his grip tightened, a subtle warning, but you could feel the way his muscles strained, the raw tension in his touch. every press of his fingers into your skin felt like a brand, like he was marking you, anchoring himself to you. his touch was a blaze, a wildfire that scorched you in the best way, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t bear an inch of distance.

and then the world tilted.

with a surge of power and urgency, he lifted you without hesitation—strong, commanding, as though he was claiming you in the most primal of ways. a breathless gasp escaped your lips, the sound of surprise barely escaping before his hands cradled you, holding you as if you were made of something more fragile than glass. he held you with reverence, but there was an edge to it, a possessiveness that promised he would never let you go.

his breath is heavy against your neck, warm and uneven, betraying the restraint he’s barely holding onto. your body is pressed tightly to his chest, his heart pounding against yours, every beat echoing the unspoken promises that linger in the air. each step he takes toward your bedroom is deliberate, charged, as though the distance is unbearable, as if he can’t get you there fast enough.

"shit," he muttered, his voice rough and low as he lowered you onto the edge of your bed. the realization hit him like a tidal wave, cold and relentless, stealing his focus. his gaze flickered to yours, a storm of panic swirling in his eyes. “i didn’t bring any condoms. do you… do you have any?”

his question lingered in the air, heavy and unspoken, cutting deeper than the surface. the knot in his stomach tightened, the thought of someone else touching you during the time apart clawing at his insides. he hated the idea more than he cared to admit.

your laughter cut through the tension, soft but laced with something playful, a gentle ring that seemed to fill the space between you. "no, baek," you replied, your voice a breathless melody. "i haven’t had sex—well, any action, really—since you." the confession slipped out before you could stop it, and though a blush bloomed on your cheeks, you held his gaze. there was a flicker of vulnerability in your eyes, but it only made his heart race faster.

his breath hitched audibly, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. his heartbeat thundered in his ears, his chest rising and falling with the weight of your words. “you’re serious?” he whispered, disbelief laced with something else—pride. his lips curved upward into a slow, cocky grin, the kind that made your stomach flip. the thought of you untouched by anyone else since him fed something primal, something possessive.

you nodded, your teeth sinking into your lip like you were weighing the impact of your words. embarrassment rushed to your neck, but it was quickly replaced by the heat of his stare. it burned through you, molten and unwavering, making your heart thrum harder with every passing second.

“fuck,” he rasped, the word almost guttural, like he couldn’t contain the surge of raw emotion. it was your turn to smile, a cocky glint lighting up your eyes. but when he spoke again, the weight of his confession hit you harder than you expected.

"i haven’t gone raw in anyone since you."

the words hung heavy in the air, suffocating with meaning. the way he said it, so casually, like it was a fact that only made sense in the world he had built around you, made your pulse spike. it was everything—the promise, the truth. your knees weakened at the depth of his gaze, molten like a fire you couldn’t escape.

"d’ya trust me, bun?" he whispered, voice low, the words slipping from his lips with a possessive kind of hunger.

you swallowed thickly, your breath coming out uneven, heart pounding in your throat. your pulse raced, and despite the weight of his question, you somehow found your voice, breathless and full of raw honesty.

“with my life.”

his lips curled into that signature, boyish grin that had always undone you, a glint of mischief dancing in his darkened eyes.

without hesitation, he closed the distance between you, his hands brushing the smooth, delicate skin of your arms before they drifted to the zipper at your back. in one seamless motion, his fingers tugged at the fabric, pulling your dress down with a fluid grace that seemed almost too effortless, as if he’d done it a thousand times before. the fabric slid off you like a memory, slipping to the floor as he guided you back onto the pillows, leaving you bare under the weight of his gaze.

his breath faltered as he drank you in, his eyes tracing every inch of your skin, the intensity of his hunger for you pressing against him like an ache that made his chest tighten. "god," he breathed out, the word barely escaping his lips as if he was speaking to himself more than to you, his hands gently exploring your exposed body like he was memorizing it, as though each touch could never be repeated.

but then it came—the surge of insecurity, creeping in from the edges of your mind like a dark cloud, unwelcome and cold. without thinking, you crossed your arms over your body, your hands instinctively covering the soft curves you’d learned to live with, but had never quite come to accept.

baekhyun saw it instantly. the shift in you, the way you tried to pull away, to hide. his expression softened, his gaze darkening with understanding as he stepped closer. his voice, low and steady, was a balm to your wounded confidence. “don’t you ever feel the need to hide from me,” he murmured, each word laced with an unspoken promise. his hands were gentle, yet firm, as he took hold of your wrists, slowly guiding them away from your body and placing them at your sides. the weight of his touch was reassuring, a silent command for you to trust him, to trust that he saw you—all of you—and that was all he wanted.

his touch was almost ethereal, like a whisper against your skin. his fingertips grazed the curve of your breasts, lingering just long enough to make your breath hitch. “bigger,” he murmured, the word thick with admiration, as if discovering something new about you—something he’d always known he wanted. his hands traveled lower, tracing the lines of your waist, feeling the soft expansion of your hips beneath his palms.

when his fingers brushed over the subtle stretch marks on your ass, a low, guttural groan escaped him, the sound vibrating through the air between you. his body tensed, his desire unmistakable, radiating off of him in waves. “god, you’re so beautiful,” he said, his gaze never leaving the soft, inviting shape of your body, as if memorizing every inch of you.

his hand drifted to your stomach, his finger moving with slow deliberation, drawing a path down the center of your abdomen, a slow, torturous line that set your nerves alight. “you’re gonna feel me,” he rasped, his voice husky, the words carrying a weight of promise. his thumb pressed gently into the sensitive skin just above your belly button, sending a shiver spiraling through your body. “right here,” he murmured, his eyes locking with yours—dark, smoldering, intense with intent.

the teasing, the way he looked at you like you were something precious, something intoxicating—it was too much. your hands clenched at the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer, the need to feel him overwhelming. without a second thought, your lips crashed against his, urgent and desperate. the kiss was hungry, frantic, your mouths pressing against each other as you fumbled with the fabric of his clothes, your body burning for more.

his laugh rumbled against your lips, the sound low and rich as he pulled back just enough to smirk down at you. “eager, aren’t we?”

you didn’t miss a beat, your fingers working at his waistband as you bit back, “just wanna see if you still know how to fuck me properly.”

his laugh deepened, full and throaty, as he shoved his boxers down, freeing his throbbing cock. “glad to see that smart mouth of yours hasn’t changed, bun,” he said, his grin wicked. he leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as he added, “i’ma have fun puttin’ it to good use later.”

your breath hitched, your heart pounding in anticipation as he pressed closer, the weight of his words and his presence igniting every nerve in your body.

he positions himself at your entrance, and your breath catches in your throat, heart pounding so hard you can feel it echo in your ears. the heat radiating from him, the subtle brush of his skin against yours, sends a shiver rippling through your body. his tip, swollen and leaking, nudges against you, dragging slowly through your wetness, teasing with a precision that makes your toes curl.

he lingers at your entrance, just barely pressing in before retreating, spreading his precum and your slick together in a maddening rhythm. the sensation of his velvety tip gliding over your folds, grazing your clit, sends jolts of pleasure through your core. every deliberate movement feels like a silent taunt, a reminder of how much he’s savoring this moment—savoring you.

“baek, please,” you whimper, your voice trembling, desperate. your fingers clutch the sheets beneath you, nails digging in as if grounding yourself could somehow stave off the overwhelming need building inside you. tears prickle at the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as the relentless teasing pushes you closer to the edge of begging.

his own restraint is fraying, evident in the way his breath hitches, the way his hands tremble slightly as they grip your hips. he leans down, his forehead resting against yours, his dark eyes smoldering with a mix of lust and longing. “oh— fffuuuccck, i missed you,” he groans, his voice strained, thick with emotion and need.

his words barely register before he begins to push in, his throbbing tip stretching you inch by agonizing inch. the sensation of him filling you—so warm, so familiar yet impossibly intense—forces a soft gasp from your lips. he exhales sharply, his jaw clenched, savoring every second, every sensation, as though this moment is the only thing that matters in the world.

baekhyun’s gaze flickers to your face, catching the faint wince that creases your features, gone as quickly as it came, but not quick enough to escape him. his brows knit together, his concern palpable, etched into the soft lines of his expression. he stays perfectly still, his body taut with restraint, as if afraid to move and hurt you. the stretch stings, yes, but there’s something deeper beneath it—a delicious burn that ignites every nerve, leaving you teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure.

“baby, you good?” his voice is low, soft, a husky murmur that wraps around you like the warmest comfort, his tone threading worry with tenderness, his concern a steady anchor in the haze between you. his dark eyes search yours, flickering with a mix of restraint and hunger, like he’s balancing on the precipice of losing control but refusing to let it happen until you’re ready.

you nod, though your breath catches, a sharp inhale that betrays the lingering ache as you will yourself to adjust. you shift your hips slightly, testing, feeling the stretch give way to something deeper, something raw that tugs at your core and sets your pulse hammering.

he groans, low and guttural, a sound dragged from the depths of his chest as he feels you take him in just a little more. his breath stutters, breaking like a thread pulled too tight, his hands flexing where they rest on your hips. the sharp ache dissolves into heat, into a magnetic pull you can’t resist. his reaction tells you he’s just as wrecked as you are, caught in the unbearable tension of holding back when everything about this moment demands he let go.

baekhyun’s exhale shudders, his head tipping back as his grip on your hips tightens just enough to remind you of his control. “fuck,” he rasps, the word rough and shaky, his voice carrying a mix of awe and restraint. “i missed the way you feel around me.”

his words send a ripple of heat through you, raw and unfiltered, a confession of just how much you’re undoing him. his fingers dig into your skin, grounding him, though his gaze never strays from yours. the tension coils tighter with every passing second, his dark eyes blazing with something possessive, something unrelenting, as though he’s holding back the storm brewing just beneath the surface.

your need burns hotter, desperation clawing its way to the forefront. “baekhyun—,” you beg, the words tumbling out before you can catch them. “please... just hurry up and fuck me.”

the plea comes out shaky, your voice trembling with want, and for a moment, you feel utterly exposed. but the effect on him is instant. his lips curl into a slow, wicked smile, his expression one of pure, devastating control as if that's all he needed to hear. “as you wish, sweetheart,” he grunts, his voice thick with promise and unrestrained desire.

his hands tighten their hold on your hips, strong and commanding, as he shifts his position. with a flex of his arms, he lifts you with effortless strength, your body rising until you can feel the head of his cock stretching you once more. the tension builds, unbearable and heady, before he slams you down onto him in one fluid motion.

the force of it steals the breath from your lungs, the intensity of him filling you completely, stretching you to your limit. the sound that escapes you is ragged, a cry of pleasure that seems to echo in the air between you. baekhyun’s growl rumbles low in his chest, primal and rough, as his hips meet yours, bottoming out with a precision that leaves you trembling.

his movements are deliberate yet feral, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge, his hands never leaving your body as if anchoring you to him. his need is palpable, pouring out in every motion, every flex of his muscles as he claims you with an intensity that sets every nerve ending alight.

“ya feel so fuckin’ perfect,” he groans against your skin, the words muffled but soaked in reverence as his lips press to your shoulder, your neck, anywhere he can reach. every motion, every sound, every touch pulls you deeper into him, blurring the lines between where you end and he begins.

he missed you. god, every inch of him missed you. it’s like his cock remembers every curve, every slick ridge of your walls, molding to him perfectly. and of course, he lets you know, his voice breaking into a string of desperate confessions. “f-fuck… m’sorry. ya squeezin’ me so tight. i think ‘m gonna cum soon hah– and ‘m gonna fuck it right back into this perfect—ngh—cunt.”

“hah—baek,” you whine, your voice trembling as you fully surrender to him. your body rocks helplessly in rhythm with his relentless thrusts, his cock plunging so deep it leaves you gasping. “s-so deep—hngh… can feel you here—” your hand snakes down, guiding his to press against your stomach, right where the swollen head of his cock is relentlessly hitting that devastatingly sweet spot.

his breath hitches, a low, disbelieving laugh huffing out as his fingers press into your skin. “fuck,” he groans, his eyes dark with lust, fixed on you, utterly wrecked beneath him. his hand is on top of the other as they press down over the slight bulge where he’s buried so deeply inside you. “feel that, baby? that’s me… stretching this pretty pussy out so good.”

his words send a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, and it’s too much—all of it, the weight of him, the filthy praise falling from his lips, the way his hands grip you like you’re something precious, even as he loses himself in you.

“baek—oh god!” your cry echoes through the room as your body shatters beneath him, the first orgasm of the night ripping through you with a force that leaves you trembling. his lips crash against yours, swallowing your desperate moans as his hand moves lower, fingers finding your clit in quick, precise circles. the overstimulation sends sparks shooting through your veins, the pleasure stretching, elongating, as he coaxes every last wave from you.

“that’s it—hah. cum for me angel,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice softening even as his hips keep their punishing rhythm, chasing his own release. “y'so perfect, baby. nngghh—so fuckin' perfect for me…and finally mine again.”

“been y-yours,” you hiss, dragging out the word as his crazed tip whacks itself against your sensitive spot. again, again, and again—he’s hitting against that same spot as if it were a target and he never misses. his frantic hits against your core causes your toes to curl and your back to arch even further as you’re slowly being brought closer to your orgasmic, teetering edge. “ffuuck! ‘m cumming again, baek, cumming.”

your release crashes over you like a tidal wave, sweeping you into a realm that feels like heaven itself. your body gives out beneath the intensity, collapsing back against the mattress as baekhyun hovers over you, his breath hot and heavy. his tongue trails a slick, wet path down the curve of your neck, his touch a sinful mix of reverence and hunger as you unravel completely beneath him.

baekhyun’s body is pressed flush against yours, his every movement slow yet calculated, like he’s savoring each second, each inch, as if the world might steal you away from him again. the heat of his skin seeps into yours, the sheer intensity in his dark, lidded eyes making it impossible to look away. his breath is ragged, the sound mingling with the soft gasps spilling from your lips, the two of you lost in a rhythm that feels as natural as breathing.

“please,” he rasps, his voice cracking, raw with emotion. his forehead presses to yours, the touch grounding and desperate as he sinks deeper, his hips stuttering like the closeness of you is too much, too overwhelming to contain. “please, don’t fuckin’ leave me again.”

his words linger, heavy and aching, filling the space between you with the weight of every unspoken hurt, every moment lost. his fingers tighten on your hips, digging into your skin as though the feel of you beneath him is the only thing tethering him to reality. his thrusts grow erratic, uneven, each movement betraying the fragility of his control.

“nggghh—i think...” his voice falters, a low groan spilling from his lips as he buries his face into the curve of your neck. his mouth grazes your skin, reverent, desperate, the ghost of his breath hot and trembling against you. “i think i’ll die if you do. god, i can’t—i can’t spend another fuckin’ day without you.”

your heart clenches painfully, his vulnerability cutting straight through you like a blade. his body trembles against yours, every inch of him straining to keep you close, to pour everything he feels into the spaces between you. your fingers find their way into his hair, threading through the damp strands as you tug gently, coaxing him to meet your gaze.

his eyes lift, dark and glassy, brimming with emotion so unguarded it threatens to undo you. devotion, fear, yearning—they’re all there, laid bare and unfiltered.

“baekhyun,” you whisper, your voice a delicate tremor, barely audible over the shared gasps of breath between you. your hands cradle his face, fingertips brushing over the damp strands of his hair as if trying to ground him, to ground yourself, in this fragile, fleeting moment. “’m not going anywhere. i’m here... i’m yours. we’re yours.”

his breath catches, shuddering under the weight of your words, and a sound—fragile, broken—escapes him. he surges forward, pulling you closer, deeper, until it feels like he’s trying to fuse your souls together, to erase every inch of space between you. his thrusts are slower now, deliberate, every roll of his hips steeped in something more than desire—something raw and sacred, like a plea, a promise, an apology all at once.

your body arches into his, a guttural whine ripping from your throat as his cock pulses within your walls, stretching, filling, consuming. your muscles clench around him, your body dragging him deeper into your heat, and his control shatters like glass.

“f-fuckin’ shit,” he growls through gritted teeth, his hips jerking erratically as he spills into you, heat blooming deep inside, marking you in every sense of the word. the intensity steals the breath from your lungs, and as the waves of pleasure crash over you, pulling you under, your release spirals into his, the two of you breaking apart and piecing yourselves back together in the same breath.

his lips find yours, the kiss frantic and messy, a collision of tongues and teeth as if he’s trying to reclaim the time you spent apart. every ragged moan, every whispered curse and gasp fills the room, the air thick with the symphony of your shared need. the world outside fades, leaving only the two of you—entangled, desperate, and utterly consumed by the moment.

it’s not just lust, not just longing—it’s everything. years of heartache, love, and an aching, unrelenting need poured into every kiss, every thrust, every whispered vow that promises you’ll never leave each other again.

your walls clench around him again, coaxing more from him, and he groans deeply, his arms looping around your waist to anchor you to him. his grip is firm, almost desperate, holding your trembling hips in place as his thick, creamy release paints your insides. it’s obscene, the way it trickles down your shaking thighs, a messy, lewd reminder of everything he’s giving you. but baekhyun doesn’t stop—not yet. his hips slow, but only slightly, rolling into you with a lazy, unrelenting rhythm as if determined to fuck every drop back into you.

it’s filthy, yes, but there’s something almost tender in the way his lips brush against yours again, his deep moans muffled as his movements grow languid, sweet in their intensity. he nips at your bottom lip, his voice a teasing rasp when he finally pulls back just enough to speak, his forehead pressed to yours.

"how ’bout we give minji a sibling, huh?" the words spill from him, low and teasing, yet dripping with intent, his hips punctuating the question with a deliberate thrust that has you crying out.

your brain short-circuits, the world spinning as his cock drags against your sensitive walls. your head nods before you can even process his words, a frantic, needy motion as your body betrays just how utterly drunk you are on him. thinking straight? impossible. all you can manage is a breathless, choked moan of agreement, your fingers digging into his back as he continues to work you into oblivion."yeah?" your voice trembles, still riding the waves of your last high. "well, we’ve got all night to try."

the morning sun filtered softly through the trees as you stood at your front door, your body still humming with the afterglow of the night before. baekhyun’s car had just turned the corner, leaving behind the faint scent of his cologne and the weight of his goodbye kiss still lingering on your lips. you smiled to yourself, the memory of his warm hands on your waist and the way he’d looked at you all night filling you with a quiet joy.

but then your thoughts shifted, and a familiar ache settled in your chest. you glanced to your left, to chanyeol’s house, where your daughter, minji, was probably still fast asleep. you wondered when you should go pick her up, already missing the sound of her giggles and the way she always ran to you with open arms.

your gaze lingered on his house, warm affection for your daughter mingling with a twinge of guilt. chanyeol had been nothing but kind—stepping in to watch minji overnight so you and baekhyun could have this time together. but as your eyes traced the windows, movement caught your attention.

the curtain in the living room fluttered, a shadow shifting behind it before it was quickly pulled shut. the abruptness of the action made your heart sink. someone had been watching. you didn’t need to guess who.

your stomach twisted as the realization hit you. chanyeol.

the look on his face from last night flashed through your mind—the way his mouth had tightened, his expression faltering when you’d casually mentioned your plans with baekhyun. you’d tried to soften the blow, telling him you were "taking things slow," but now those words felt hollow, like a broken promise.

slow? the sight of you outside your front door in baekhyun’s shirt, kissing him goodbye, told a different story.

the weight of the moment pressed on you, guilt pooling heavy in your chest. chanyeol didn’t deserve this. he didn’t deserve to see this, to piece together the night you’d spent with baekhyun and feel whatever it was you knew he must be feeling.

for a second, you thought about knocking on his door, about saying something—anything—that might ease the tension now crackling in the air between your homes. but instead, you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to step inside your own door. maybe it was better this way, to let the moment settle, to deal with the aftermath later when your thoughts were clearer.

but as you shut the door behind you, your phone buzzed in your pocket.

chanyeol:

hey, can we talk?

a sigh escapes your lips, the guilt in your chest an ache that refuses to fade. you were already bracing for this conversation, knowing it had to happen, knowing you owed him this clarity. more than that, you still wanted him in your life—him and nari both. they had become such an integral part of your and minji's world, their presence a steady anchor in the chaos. you had to make sure he understood that.

your thumbs hover over the screen, the words forming before you can second-guess them.

yeah, i think we should, yeol.

chanyeol sits on the couch beside you, though the space between you feels like a canyon. it’s a noticeable difference from how he used to sit, closer, as if the world wasn’t big enough to separate the two of you.

he brought minji home a few minutes ago, fast asleep against his shoulder, her cheek pressed to him in the way only a child could manage, soft and unguarded. her little mouth hung open, a whisper of snores escaping as if the world around her didn’t exist. she’d been worn out from a full morning playing with his sister’s kids and nari, her tiny form so peaceful it made your heart ache. you’d both had quietly tucked her into bed together. and now here you were, back in the living room, perched on the edge of an unspoken conversation.

his sister had stopped by his place earlier this morning, her kids in tow for a chaotic playdate with nari and minji. she’d agreed to watch nari while chanyeol brought minji back home and you and him have this talk, though he’d been vague about why he needed the time. what was he supposed to say? “i’m going next door to talk to the girl i’ve been madly crushing on for over a year about seeing her kiss her ex-boyfriend and baby daddy and now i don’t know where i stand.” no. too messy. too raw. too much.

his jaw tightens, a small movement you barely catch out of the corner of your eye. the weight of his presence feels like it’s pressing against your chest, suffocating and grounding all at once. you glance at him, then quickly look away, unsure of how to start this conversation. unsure if you even can.

the silence between you stretches, awkward and heavy. you try to fill it with small talk, your voice soft. “how was minji last night?”

he glances at you, a smile tugging at his lips, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. there’s something pained in his expression, something restrained. “she was great. she always is.”

you smile faintly, but it fades as guilt bubbles in your chest. “look, chanyeol,” you start, your voice tentative, “i’m sorry for what you saw this morning. it probably didn’t make me look like ‘mother of the year.’” you pause, exhaling slowly. “i know i said baekhyun and i were going to take things slow, but… one thing led to another, and—”

“stop,” he interrupts, his voice sharp but not unkind. his hand comes up, almost reflexively, as if to shield himself from your words. he winces, and you know it’s because he’s picturing it—baekhyun’s hands on you, his lips on yours. where chanyeol wishes his own could be.

his shoulders slump as he exhales, the tension in his body evident. his face is a mosaic of emotions—hurt, frustration, resignation. “i don’t think i want to hear the details… about what happened with you and baekhyun.”

the air grows heavier, his words filling the space between you. for a moment, neither of you speaks. then, he sighs again, his voice quieter this time, softer. “i just came to say that i get it.”

you blink, caught off guard. “you do?”

he nods, his gaze falling to his hands, which rest loosely in his lap. “yeah,” he says, the word heavy with a weight he’s carried for longer than you probably realize. “i always knew your heart was still with him. filled with him. i thought that maybe, over time, with me… and nari… we—i—would fill it instead.” his voice cracks slightly, and he clears his throat, forcing himself to go on. “but then he came along. and even then, i was still foolish enough to believe i had a chance.”

your heart clenches, the rawness in his voice cutting deeper than any accusation ever could.

he looks up at you, his eyes earnest despite the ache swimming in them. “but i just want you to know… don’t feel guilty. about this. about me. nari and i—we’ll still be here for you and minji. always.”

his words hit you like a wave, and you’re left staring at him, your chest tight and your throat dry. there’s no anger in his voice, no bitterness, just an overwhelming sense of loss and quiet acceptance.

and somehow, that hurts even more.

you open your mouth, but no words come out. what can you possibly say to that? to a man who has just stripped himself bare, laying his feelings and heartbreak at your feet without a hint of resentment? guilt swirls in your stomach, heavy and unrelenting, but beneath it is something softer—gratitude.

“chanyeol,” you finally manage, your voice quiet, shaky. “i… i don’t even know where to start.” you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, a nervous habit you’ve had for as long as you can remember. “i never meant to hurt you. i swear, i didn’t.”

his smile is small, sad, and fleeting. “i know.”

“you mean so much to me,” you continue, your voice gaining strength. “and not just because you’ve been so good to minji and me, but because you’re… you’re you. you’ve been a constant in our lives when everything else felt so uncertain.”

his gaze flickers to yours, and the weight of his emotions is almost too much to bear.

“but,” you add, hesitating because the truth feels like a betrayal, “i can’t lie to you. when baekhyun came back, it stirred up so much that i thought i’d buried. i thought i’d moved on, but… seeing him again…” you trail off, unsure how to finish without twisting the knife further.

“i get it,” he says softly, sparing you the need to say more.

“i don’t deserve you,” you whisper, shaking your head. “you’ve been nothing but kind and patient, and i hate that i’ve put you in this position. but… thank you. for everything. for understanding, for being here, for—”

“don’t,” he cuts you off gently, his voice firm but kind. “don’t thank me like this is the end of something. nari and minji are still best friends, and i’m not going anywhere. you don’t get rid of me that easily.”

his attempt at humor coaxes a faint smile from you, though the tears welling in your eyes threaten to spill over. “you’re too good, you know that?”

he shrugs, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in something that’s almost a smile. “or maybe i just have bad timing.”

you both fall silent again, the unspoken understanding settling between you like a fragile truce. you want to hug him, to thank him properly, but you know it’s not what he needs right now. instead, you place a hand on his, squeezing it gently.

“i’m sorry,” you say again, your voice barely above a whisper.

he squeezes back, his touch warm despite the distance he’s trying to keep. “me too.”

and with that, the moment shifts, leaving behind a bittersweet ache that doesn’t feel quite like an ending but more like an understanding—a quiet closure to what could have been. as chanyeol stands to leave, his hand moves instinctively, gently cupping your chin. his thumb grazes the soft curve of it, a gesture so intimately familiar it almost feels like a promise.

his eyes meet yours, but this time, there’s no playful glint, no trace of hope lingering there. instead, his gaze is calm, tinged with a bittersweet acceptance that sits heavy in the space between you. his lips pull into a small, wistful smile—warm enough to remind you of the connection you once shared but tempered by the reality that things have changed.

“we’ll be okay,” he says softly, the weight of his words lingering in the air. “nari and i… we’ll always be here for you and minji. that doesn’t change.”

his voice is steady, not heavy with regret but grounded in the knowledge that some paths aren’t meant to intertwine the way he might have once hoped. and as he steps back, the warmth of his touch fades, but not in a way that feels cold or distant.

instead, it feels like understanding.

he hesitates for a moment, the faintest flicker of something unreadable crossing his face, but then he nods slightly, his smile growing just enough to feel reassuring. “see you around, yeah?”

“yeah,” you manage, your voice soft but steady.

with that, he turns and walks out the door—not leaving behind a void, but rather a quiet sense of peace. the kind of peace that comes with knowing some connections will always remain, even if they’ve shifted into something new.

baekhyun had started staying over on weekends. it had been his idea initially, a way to make up for the years he missed with minji—but somewhere along the way, it became about more than that. your relationship with him had been blossoming, as if no time had been lost.

the nights you spent together felt like a rediscovery of who you both were, a bittersweet journey through what was and what could be. after minji would fall asleep, the two of you would sit on the couch, sharing stories from the years apart. his late-night shifts at the hospital during his program, your struggles navigating motherhood alone, the little triumphs and heartbreaks in between.

what surprised you most was how much had stayed the same. you still had the same taste in music, still argued playfully over which movie to watch. even the new interests you’d each picked up fit together seamlessly—baekhyun teasing you about your new baking obsession while you mocked his newfound love for photography.

it was during one of those weekends, after a long day spent at the park with minji, that things shifted. the house was quiet, save for the soft hum of the night outside. minji had gone to bed hours ago, worn out from a day of running around, and now you lay tangled in the sheets with baekhyun, your skin still warm from the closeness you’d just shared.

his arm draped lazily over your waist, fingers tracing absentminded patterns on your skin. “i’ve been thinking,” he murmured, his voice soft but serious.

you turned to face him, your cheek brushing against his bare chest. “about what?”

“about telling her,” he said, his hand stilling on your side. “minji. that i’m her dad.”

you blinked up at him, the words settling heavily in the air between you. it wasn’t the first time the thought had crossed your mind, but hearing him say it made it feel... real.

“you think she’s ready?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

he nodded slowly, his dark eyes meeting yours. “she’s smart, you know? she already knows there’s something different about the way i am with her. and with you.” his lips quirked into a small smile. “plus, i want her to know. i want her to know how much i love her. how much i love... this.”

your breath hitched, his words wrapping around your heart like a warm embrace. “you really think now’s the time?”

baekhyun shifted, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look down at you. “i do. but only if you’re ready, too.”

you bit your lip, the weight of the decision pressing down on you. but as you thought about how minji had been bonding with baekhyun—her laughter during their tickle fights, the way she lit up every time he walked into the room—you realized he was right. she deserved to know.

“okay,” you whispered, your fingers reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from his face. “let’s tell her.”

he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his voice a gentle promise. “thank you. for letting me be here. for giving me this chance.”

the following day, during lunch, you sat minji down. the late afternoon sun poured into the kitchen, casting soft golden streaks across the table where you, baekhyun, and minji sat. the aroma of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup lingered in the air, a comfort meal chosen carefully for this important day.

minji swung her little legs under the chair, humming a tune in between bites, blissfully unaware of the weight of the moment looming.

you glanced at baekhyun, his fingers tapping lightly against the edge of his bowl—a nervous tell he couldn’t quite hide. catching your eye, he gave you a small nod. it was time.

“minji,” you began gently, setting your spoon down and leaning forward. her big eyes flicked up to you, still chewing, her cheeks puffed out like a little chipmunk.

“mommy and i want to talk to you about something important,” baekhyun added, his voice warm but tinged with a nervous edge.

minji blinked, tilting her head curiously. “what is it?”

you took a deep breath, reaching for her tiny hand across the table. “you know how you’ve been spending a lot of time with baekhyun lately? going to the park, playing games, having fun?”

she nodded enthusiastically, a grin spreading across her face. “yeah! he’s so fun! and he’s really good at hide-and-seek!”

baekhyun chuckled softly, his fingers brushing through his hair. “well, there’s a reason we’ve been spending so much time together, minji,” he said, his voice tender. “it’s because i’m your dad.”

the room went quiet for a moment as her little brain worked to process the words. her eyes flicked between you and baekhyun, her brow furrowing slightly. “my... dad?”

you squeezed her hand gently. “yes, sweetheart. baekhyun is your dad. he loves you very much and wants to be in your life, just like mommy is.”

minji’s lips pressed together in a thoughtful pout. then, she looked at baekhyun, her small voice filled with curiosity. “are you gonna stay forever?”

his breath hitched, and you could see the emotion pooling in his eyes. he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table to meet her at eye level. “yes, minji. i promise i’m not going anywhere. i want to be here for you, always.”

she studied him for a moment, then turned to you. “is that okay, mommy?”

your throat tightened at the question, the innocence of her trust nearly breaking you. you nodded quickly, brushing a hand through her soft hair. “of course, bun. it’s more than okay.”

a beat passed, and then her face lit up with a smile that could rival the sun. “so... does this mean i can call you daddy?”

baekhyun laughed, his voice shaky but filled with relief. “only if you want to, bunny.”

without hesitation, she slid off her chair and ran to him, wrapping her tiny arms around his waist. “hi, daddy.”

baekhyun’s arms enveloped her instantly, holding her like she was the most precious thing in the world. his eyes met yours over her head, glistening with unshed tears and a gratitude too deep for words.

in that moment, you knew everything would be okay. your little family had found its way back together.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ a/n ꒱ ˎˊ˗ omg k first of all, i’m so, so, sooooo sorry it took me forever to finish this fic 😭😭😭 i really wanted to try something new with this one. more angsty vibes, some slow-burn, and some juicy subplots to keep it interesting hehe :') instead of my usual "plot? what plot? oh wait, you mean porn" approach (which ofc the next like 4 fics are definitely giving that lmfao) ANYWAAAYYYY, i hope you enjoyed it!! <3 as always lmk ur thoughts <3 <3 (unless you hated it or thought it was mid...then pls...keep it to urself because i am a fragile lil bnuy n will cry 😭🤚🏼) k that's all bye love you guys!!!! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა 💖

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* masterlist ° ᡣ𐭩 .

#baekhyun smut #baekhyun one shot #baekhyun fic #baekhyun x reader #exo smut #exo fic #x reader #exo x reader #kpop smut #kpop fic #baekhyun #lisawrites #dividers are by @anitalenia <3

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thepunkranger · 6 months ago

Text

Resident Evil Characters - A Summary

Note: This is entirely my own opinion and said with a heavy dose of humor

Please enjoy

Chris Redfield

Started as a twunk

Became an angry gorilla man???

Alpha Male™️

Punches boulders

Wants you to marry his sister

Smoker

Hide yo kids, hide yo wife

Rude to wait staff

2/10 - Just a guy. Hit him with your car

Jill Valentine

Other OG

Arguably better main of RE1

Master of Unlocking

Bisexual Bob™️

Butch

Supercop

Once got mind-controlled into going blonde

Rocket Launcher babe

PTSD

Big Strap Energy

Giant anime gun

10/10

Albert Wesker

OG Baddy

Sunglasses

Thinks he’s cool

A little too into Chris

“What are we going to do this game, Albert?”

“What we do every game, Alex: try to take over the world”

Matrix jacket

Maybe a vampire?

Looks like my uncle (derogatory)

4/10

Barry Burton

Bear

A+ line delivery

Just happy to be a part of things

Wishes his daughter would talk to him

Comes through in a pinch

Got lost on his way to The Last of Us

Father figure

Not dead out of sheer dumb luck

8/10

Rebecca Chambers

Baby butch

Sees the best in everyone

Autism be damned, my girl can work a shotgun

Sporty

Mommy Domme/Babygirl switch vibes

Sweet coffee addict

Doing fine, thanks for asking

Awkward thumbs up

9/10

Billy Coen

Bad Boy™️

Never bothered to take off his handcuffs

Tattoos

Mullet???

Moral standards

Strong silent type

Whole situation could’ve been avoided by just talking about his issues but no

Queen fan

7/10

Leon S. Kennedy

If a golden retriever became a human and then got kicked every day of its life

Having a really bad first day

Into dominant women

Dumb 90s haircut

Uses comedy as a coping mechanism

Hair grows in direct correlation to his level of angst

“Hey demons, it’s me, ya boi”

Sexy

Dog lover

Certified Good Boy™️

Fucked up a perfectly good rookie is what you did. Look at it, it’s got depression

15/10

Claire Redfield

College student stuck in the zombie apocalypse

Soft butch

Humanitarian

Forced her brother to teach her how to knife fight

Really into motorcycles

Leather jacket

Rocket Launcher babe #2

Always has at least one adopted child with her

10/10 would ask to babysit

Ada Wong

Mommy. Sorry. Mommy- sorry. Mommy-

Grappling hook

Badass spy

Emotionally distant

Soft spot for cute cuddly things (Leon)

Femme fatale

Book lover

Chaotic neutral

Crossbow 😍

Could step on me and I’d say thank you

Rocket launcher babe #3

10/10

Sherry Birkin

Goosebumps protagonist

Worst parents ever tbh

Surprisingly good under pressure

Please someone get this girl some therapy

Supergirl

Smartest person here

One hell of a shot

The trauma is immeasurable

Somehow still doing fine

Loves her weird adopted family

8/10

Carlos Oliviera

Himbo

First POC main?

Went from three polygons and a white boy haircut in the original to actual gorgeous South American hunk in the remake

Lost his accent along the way for some reason

#1 Jill simp

If Dug from Up was a guy

Only trustworthy person in the whole series

Just wants to help

Gorgeous gorgeous hair

Loves strong women

Hakuna matata

Touch-starved

10/10 would peg

Steve Burnside

Twink

Who is this sassy lost child?

Hot Topic employee

Into Claire (she’s too old for you bud)

Choker

Thinks he’s edgy

Whiny

Daddy issues

1/10

Luis Serra Navaro

If Puss in Boots was a human

The Most Extra™️

Luscious flowing locks

Definitely into bondage

Used to work for Umbrella

Trying to make up for it

Don Quixote references

Bisexual

Good with his hands

Praying for a threesome with Leon and Ada

10/10

Ashley Graham

Basic white girl

Always getting kidnapped

Master of Unlocking #2

Razor flip phone

Ada Wong bisexual awakening (same)

Good with a wrecking ball

Makes Leon catch her every time she has to jump a ledge (also same)

Would like to go to Hot Topic, please

7/10

Sheva Alomar

Player 2

Second POC main

Bad AI

Too good for her game

Willing to go on a suicide mission with a guy she just met

Left handed

Deserves a better stylist

Only good part of RE5

Literally my girl got done so dirty just give her another chance please

10/5

Moira Burton

“It’s not a phase, dad!”

Probably gay

Weak arms

Skillz

Box dyed her hair at least once

Simple Plan playing in the background

Childhood trauma

7/10

Piers Nivans

Trying his best

Appreciates a good steak

Sick of Chris’ bullshit

Good with a rifle

Just a good man

German Shepherd boy

Self-sacrificing

8/10

Jake Muller

Wesker’s son

Daddy issues

Who invited Ronan Lynch here?

Quips for days

Bad boy

Loves the type of woman who can kick his ass

The Most Edgy™️

9/10

Ethan Winters

Husband of the year

Trusting

Surprisingly chill

The most basic white man in all of RE

Hands? What hands?

Functionally a lizard

Would still love you if you were a worm

Just casually knows how to craft bullets

Moldy

8/10

Mia Winters

Toxic girlfriend energy

Literally possessed

Dark sense of humor

Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss

Casually working for a bioterrorism organization

Does actually care about her family

Definitely doesn’t have a penicillin allergy

If you can’t be the girl of his dreams, you can at least be the feral swamp witch of his nightmares

2/10

Zoe Baker

Lesbian

Mold intolerance

Southern accent thicker than grandma’s gravy

Picked last on the playground

Somehow okay despite her brother being Like That

Joe’s favorite

Science skills

8/10

Lucas Baker

Jigsaw

Didn’t even need the mold

Probably got at least one true crime documentary made about him

Working for Mia’s bioterrorism organization

Left his classmate rotting in the attic

Just the worst

0/10

Alcina Dimetrescu

Mommy

Please step on me

Elizabeth Bathory vibes

Just fucking huge

Can turn into a dragon

Lesbian

9/10

Karl Heisenberg

Grimy

Tumblr Sexyman

When robotics majors get weird

Fights with his siblings

Doesn’t actually care at all about Miranda

In cahoots with the lycans

7/10

Rosemary Winters

Mommy and Daddy issues

YA protagonist

Badass

Childhood trauma

Into the Mold-verse

Alternate universe Sherry Birkin

8/10

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icallhimjoey · 7 months ago

Text

Reinvent Love

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Joe are treading new waters. You’re no longer flatmates, but still close. More than friends, but nothing defined. Nothing labeled. Determined to not lose what you have, though. But, can you?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, jealousy, accusations, soft fluff, season 3 of my flatmate!joe

Author’s note: the first cracks; they're here - and, again, you don’t need to have read define close or explain us, but it’ll obviously give you backstory, which might help!

Wordcount: 3.6K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

It was silly. Joe was being silly.

He knew it, and felt so stupid for it. Like, in hindsight, the worrying felt so dumb. The constant milling shit over didn’t change anything, there was no real point to it. Although, maybe you being on his mind in this... new manner was what summoned you last night.

You just showed up, talking about a crazy day, no sad pouts, no needy touches. Just jittery movements and a lot to tell him.

Joe kind of sat back on his sofa, spread out and leaning into his left elbow and watched you pace around his lounge. Something about something a colleague had said that then turned out to be lies and you found out something by overhearing a phone call you weren’t meant to overhear – Joe was barely following along. Didn’t really try his best to, if he was honest.

He was moreso paying attention to what you were actually doing – were you even aware that you had started grabbing random things he had left lying around on his coffee table, on the kitchen island, on the counters, and one by one, put everything away where it was meant to go?

Joe pursed a smile as he realised you knew exactly where everything went. Why did that make his chest ache in the best of ways?

This new casual form of intimacy seemed so small, but Joe felt how it smothered that little grain of doubt that resided in his chest. That little grain that had convinced him that you were probably going to fall into a new routine with your new flatmate after he moved in and, then you would probably grow close to him and Joe knew how you... no.

No.

He couldn’t think that.

It wasn’t fair on you. He caught himself trying to finish the thought a lot, but he knew it wasn’t fair. Wasn’t true. He didn’t even fully believe it. It was this thing. Still, he also couldn’t help how it simultaneously made him grow a little more possessive and made him want to prepare for the worst.

But, she was here, he had to remind himself.

She’s here.

And she was wandering around his space, letting her train of thought flow freely from her brain into his living room and he used to witness this all the time when you lived together still. Joe realised he’d actually missed it a lot, and wasn’t that the whole point? That he got to miss you now?

God, Joe missed you a lot and you were right there and he could just burst at the seams at how fucking lucky he felt.

He was a just normal guy in a normal flat with a normal relationship– well, normalish relationship, anyway. Not that you had talked about anything yet. Of course you hadn’t. But it was pretty fucking obvious what this was. So he had started shrugging whenever someone would ask if you were actually together, which felt a lot better than the forever, “No, we’re flatmates, what are you talking about?” he used to throw at people, practically gaslighting them out of whatever they thought they’d witnessed between him and the girl that he used to live with.

It was working. The plan he had made, this vague idea of normalcy; it was working out the way he had wanted it to.

And yea, sure, you were getting a new flatmate and Joe had a difficult time not feeling some type of way about that, but, he had made the decision to move out and, look at you now.

“Do you think I can get a raise out of this? Or at least get a weird bonus, mid-term?”

Joe had a hard time not laughing at your question as he saw you had already mentally moved onto something else. You were stood in the middle of the room, both hands on your hips, eyes scanning the room. Everything tidy and organised.

“Joe, when did you last clean?”

Joe followed your gaze up into one of the corners of the ceiling.

“I cleaned today.” Joe said, knowing you’d likely not take it as an honest answer. You had lived together, remember? No fucking way was Joe ever going to feel the urge to maybe sometimes swipe a feather duster across the upper corners of his living room.

You shuddered at the thought of what resided behind his curtains there.

You sighed and tutted and turned back to Joe’s kitchen like you were going to start cleaning his fucking ceilings at half past ten at night.

“Hey, no. No, no. Stop. Will you come sit down a second? My god.” Joe huffed, feigning annoyance. When you turned on your heel and giggled as you scurried over, Joe let a laugh escape his throat just before you let yourself fall into the cushions next to him.

He hooked an arm around your neck to pull you in so he could press his nose into your cheek a second. You gladly let him, and when he held you close like that for longer than you initially thought he would, you suddenly realised you’d just been talking about yourself for twenty minutes straight.

Just barged in with unimportant thoughts on your mind that you just verbally vomited right into Joe’s space. You knew it was mostly nervous energy that was only there because your new flatmate picked up his keys earlier, which now meant there was every opportunity for someone to just... walk into your flat at any given time. That had unexpectedly brought on way more anxiety than you previously thought it would do.

Hence why you decided to just... escape it, and went over to Joe’s to spend the night there.

Joe was pressing his nose into your cheek and held you in place for a bit before he moved his head down, hiding into your neck a second.

“You okay?” you asked softly, head tilting down a bit.

“Mm, yea, fine.” Joe inhaled deeply, before pressing a few small kisses to the crook there and moving back to look at you the in eye. He unhooked his elbow from around your neck and placed two cupped hands on either side of your face, swiping bits of hair back in the process.

Joe was leant all the way back into the sofa, head squished in between two of the back cushions and you took a moment to look at each other. Joe studied your face and rubbed his thumbs across the apples of your cheeks until you grew shy.

“You look tired,” you softly said before Joe sat up a little and leant closer. It had you close your eyes just before scrunching up your nose as he kissed the very tip of it.

“I am tired.” He mused, copying your nose scrunch when you blinked your eyes open again, and Joe looked so soft. Sort of pleased with life, happy to be where he was and like he’d just had a really good productive day. He blinked slowly, eyes only half open, and looked sleepy enough to slip right into dreams the second his head would hit his pillow.

You loved him like this. His hands on you, all soft touches. Comfy and cosy and calm. Just you and him. No one else. No threat of someone randomly walking in.

This was perfect.

“Mmm, me too.” You smiled and let Joe grab one of your elbows to pull an arm across his stomach as he sat back again.

“I’m not surprised. You’ve just done a 5K as you tidied this room, I think.”

You huffed a laugh as you sank into Joe’s side, and then you sat like that in silence for a moment. No TV on. No phones in sight for some easy distraction. Just you and Joe and the view of his living room.

“Are you okay?” Joe suddenly asked, emphasis on the you, and you tried hiding the small, hitched intake of breath by quickly nodding and casually going, “Yea. Fine.”

You could feel how Joe tucked in his chin to look at you.

He waited. Wasn’t going to tell you, “No, be honest...”, but also wasn’t going to accept it and move on. It was still like that. He knew you were lying, and you knew he knew, no words shared at all.

So you sighed and took a second, and then said, “Josh picked up his key today.”

And you didn’t want to explain what that meant.

Didn’t want to tell Joe that, for a while, this existing-in-two-flats thing had just felt like a bit of a joke. Just the two of you playing and being silly about whatever you really were. You still sort of thought of him as a flatmate because he still came over all the time, and you went over to his all the time too. You existed in the same space almost just as much as before, sort of.

But now a new flatmate was actually moving in, and suddenly, it felt like reality had slapped you right across the cheek like it had done that day that Joe moved out.

You’d gotten to hide away for a lot of that.

And there was no real hiding this time around.

You couldn’t go home and pretend Joe was going to move back in eventually, because now Josh’s things were going to be all over the flat. Which was fine. Josh signed a lease. His things were allowed to be all over the place.

It was just... things were getting real now.

Shit was real.

“Which reminds me,” you suddenly piped up, pushing uncomfortable thoughts down, tucking those away for another time and place. “This is going to save you some money!”

You saw how Joe’s mouth slowly stretched into a smile as he watched how his own feet rubbed against yours. Then he caught himself and quickly furrowed his brow, saying, “No, I don’t think it works like that.”

You copied his expression, but were more confused than anything else.

“Of course it does. Josh signed the papers, he’s going to start paying rent now, you–”

“I said that I had taken care of things, didn’t I?” Joe interrupted you, fingers playing with the folds in your sleeve of the arm that rested over his stomach. “Can’t just not keep a promise like that.”

You blinked at him a second, then moved to sit up to stare at him harder. If both Joe and Josh paid rent, that basically meant that you... got to live for free for a while? That math wasn’t mathing. One plus one wasn’t equalling two here. You looked around Joe’s flat and tried to think of his own expenses, and... what the fuck was he doing?!

“Joe,”

“You’re not going to be able to talk me out of this.”

“Joe.”

Joe ignored you and faked a yawn, sped it up along with stretched out arms above his head and quickly said, “So tired. Bed?” before getting up and leaving you on his sofa as he left the room.

“You’re insane if you think I’m just going to accept that!” you called after him and heard him laugh from down the hall.

“Did you not just say you were after a weird mid-term bonus?”

And you hated how that made you smile. Made you punch one of the cushions and sink your teeth into your bottom lip begrudgingly as you forgot to breathe a second.

Joe smiled to himself too as he turned on the lights in his bathroom. It felt like he was winning a contest - there was no contest, no one to fight, not really, but, he was definitely winning.

“You coming?”

Breathe.

Calm down.

You could pretend to fight him on this once more in the morning.

Crawling into bed with Joe had its own little routine which was different from the one at yours. Different order of things, because the lay out of the flat was different.

Bathroom first. You brushed teeth together, always had to stop Joe when he washed his face too aggressively and then used your own moisturiser on him. “Just for your dry patches,” you’d always say, but would end up swiping delicate fingertips all over anyway. There’d be a snarky comment, of you using too much, of him feeling too greasy, of how he was going to stick to his pillow all night now, and then you’d always kiss him to shut him up before moving on to do your own skincare routine.

When you’d get into bed, Joe would already be in there, giving his phone a last once-over before he’d scoot down and get comfortable.

This time, however, when you walked into his bedroom, the lights were already off, and it looked like Joe was already falling asleep.

This soft man.

So sleepy.

He was all messy curls and bare arms, duvet tucked under them, curled up right in the middle of his bed. You slid in and cuddled up right behind him, hips against his bum, chest to his back.

You were right.

Joe was already falling asleep.

You pushed a leg in between his for warmth and snuck an arm around his front.

“You’re crazy,” you whispered into the skin of his shoulder which prompted Joe to grab hold of your hand and pull it into his chest so you were hugging him properly. The big spoon to his small one. Then he just hummed as you pressed a small kiss to his warm skin there.

“So crazy.” you nuzzled into his pillow, your nose rubbing his back as you did, and you felt how he ducked his head down to press a small kiss to your fingers.

You fell asleep warm, comfortable, and smiling.

You woke up in the same way.

Just on your stomach now, and with Joe’s heavy limbs slung over your body. When you turned over, it woke Joe up, and for five blissful early morning minutes, you tried crawling into each other’s skin as best you could. Breathed each other’s breath and tasted each other’s skin. Stroked hands underneath clothes and had fingers crawling into underwear, just to touch and to hold.

When you quietly asked if Joe wanted coffee, he groaned and told you to shut up. He was able to feel you giggle to that, and he could cry with how happy he felt in that moment. Why would you have to go and ruin it by getting up to go and make coffee?

“Five more minutes.”

“Mmm... it’s never just five.”

Joe sighed, “Just five.” speech slurring with early morning drowsiness and then burrowed himself into you even more.

And fine.

Joe could have five more minutes.

But then they easily turned into twenty, because they always did, and you had to eventually bribe Joe with breakfast for him to let you go so you could sit up.

“If you take a slow shower, I’ll have it ready when you finish.” You looked over your shoulder where Joe, still with his eyes closed, smiled widely. His nose was slightly red from pressing it into your skin, and his bedhead made you have to suppress a giggle that you hid by leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead before you got out.

Joe barely even felt that little grain of bad in his chest when he thought of how much he loved you.

Because he did.

Joe fucking loved you.

There was going to be a moment soon where he was just going to have to say it. It was going to spill out of him in some other way if he wouldn’t simply use the words, he just knew it.

Joe loved you as he watched through squinty eyes how you reached for a pair of white socks of his to borrow.

Loved you as he watched you pull one of his old sweaters over your head before you walked out, bare legs still on show.

Loved you when he stepped into his living room after his shower to the smell of burnt toast and scrambled eggs and coffee.

Loved you as he watched you step onto a chair in the corner of his room, wet dishcloth in hand to remove the strings of dust you had scolded him over the night before.

Loved you as he felt what the sight of your stretched body, your bare tighs, and the little peep of your bum did to him inside of his boxers.

Loved you as he groaned and let his head fall onto the counter, having to breathe through it, because you were just cleaning his living room, and not giving him a sensual striptease act or whatever.

Loved you as you looked back over your shoulder, raising your eyebrows in surprised confusion before accusingly asking, “Really, Joe? Cleaning?”

Loved you as he stutteringly defended the blood rush down south by saying, “You have no idea what you look like right now.” into his elbow where he had to hide his face for a second.

Loved you, loved you.

He was hardly able to deny any of it.

And he didn’t feel that he had to, either.

Because, you were there. In his flat. In his clothes. Cleaning his dusty ceiling corners. And wasn’t that just something he wanted to tell the whole fucking world about?

That small little green grain of doubt and worry and negativity dried out and got no sunshine to really grow into anything. Thank fuck.

He got to ignore it for a while.

Forgot about it entirely, and pretended it wasn’t even there for a bit.

It was easy.

Joe loved you.

He knew he did.

Would tell you soon.

Didn’t know how.

Or where.

But he was going to say it.

He was going to use his words because he was just a normal guy who loved a normal girl and you weren’t being weirdly secretive about what you got up to in private. At least, not how you used to be, anyway.

Joe loved you.

You brought Joe flowers and cleaned his ceiling and wore his clothes and cooked his breakfast.

Joe loved you, even though your new flatmate Josh turned out to be impossibly good-looking in addition to being incredibly kind as well, so Joe didn’t even get to have a real reason to dislike him at all, which seemed unfair, but, all right.

Joe loved you, even when suddenly two shiny black acoustic guitars appeared on your living room wall, because Josh worked in music, and wasn’t that just so cool?

Joe loved you, even though his very first thought after that was, well I know how to play guitar too, don’t I?! which you had never even mentioned before.

Joe loved you, even when he walked into your flat one evening and interrupted a dinner you were having with Josh and one of your friends and, look, Josh cooked for us, and for the first time ever, he felt uninvited and intruding.

Joe loved you, even when your friend jokingly said, “You’re over here at lot for someone that moved out.” right to his face, to which you then heartily laughed, because she was only joking, Joe, and then you didn’t say anything about how you were together, but, you were together... weren’t you?

Joe loved you, even when he stuck to the bit and handed you his flat key like he always did, expecting to find it in his coat pocket later, but then ended up finding both his pockets empty when he went home the next morning, which, yea actually, that made sense, because Josh lived there now, and it was a little weird to have a key still, wasn’t it?

Joe loved you, even when you had told him to come over on Friday evening because you’d had a shit day at work, and for the first time ever, he had to ring the doorbell to get inside.

Joe loved you, even when Josh was the one that answered the door, and Josh almost didn’t let him in, telling him, “Oh, she’s fallen asleep on the sofa, mate.” to which Joe just smiled as he stepped around him, because what the fuck did Josh even know about falling asleep on the sofa in this flat?

Joe loved you, even when he found you asleep on the sofa, curled up under a blanket he’d never seen before, with an empty pizza box bar some crusts still on the coffee table, and you never ate a whole pizza yourself, so that was obviously shared with someone else.

Joe loved you.

He knew he did.

But there was a playstation besides the TV now, and a cool record player on the side, pile of vinyl next to it, and, God.

Joe fucking hated this.

Whatever was inside of Joe’s chest, that thing he didn’t even want in there, was growing.

Was getting fed without Joe even fully realising he was feeding it.

He hated those guitars. He hated that he no longer had a key. He hated that stupid blanket. And he hated that empty pizza box.

Still, he sat down beside you and placed your socked feet onto his lap. Watched the last scenes of whatever film you’d put on as he slowly kneaded a foot and let you sleep, and he tried his best to not get bitten. To not let it sink its teeth in. To not let it hurt.

It was silly.

Joe was being silly.

Rational thought saved him.

Rational thought told him he still loved you.

And he hoped rational thought was going to be enough.

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson,

@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn,

@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee,

@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4,

@hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke,

@lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr,

@munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories,

@phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420,

@songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73,

@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

#Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #icallhimjoey #define close #explain us #reinvent love

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tainsan · 1 year ago

Text

misfits: II (college!ateez x reader)

{a/n: thank you so so so much for the support just after the first chapter! i am so grateful for all of you who have been reblogging and sending in feedback}

do not steal my work or repost on places other than tumblr.

taglist: @lilactangerine @sookacc @plutoneu @abby-grace @sunkissed725 @lixiel0ver @acciocriativity @hyukssunflower @sunukissed @khjcoo @stopeatread @meginthebuilding27 @mychickentendou @sunnyhokyu @rxnexxi @croa-yevon (if you asked to be tagged and don't see your name, I am incredibly sorry but you cannot be tagged.)

-----THIS IS AN 18+ FANFICTION MINORS DO NOT INTERACT-----

⇢ master list ⇠

previous chapter ⇠ ⇢ next chapter

warnings: not really anything, just a little bit of swearing.

word count: 6.2k

“No radius is half of the diameter; did you not pay attention in high school?” You say exasperated, half laughing half scowling at the black-haired male situated in front of you.

“I was too busy denying my sexuality in high school,” Minho says rolling his eyes, causing a boisterous laugh to erupt from your throat.

“You do know you’re not supposed to be here?”

Minho snuck into your advanced calculus class earlier saying he was bored, and Jisung was in a Finance class, where the teacher isn't too keen on letting random students into his lectures. Luckily you were close to the end of the lesson, meaning your professor was partially done, letting students talk among themselves whilst he does God knows what on his computer.

“It’s not like any of our professors remember our faces. I think I’ve had Bartley for three years in a row and he still thinks I’m a freshman.”

You snort at his remark knowing he has a point. The teachers don't get paid enough to remember every student anyways.

“You need to study more, how are you going to open your own business if you don't know the basics of math?” you question, joking slightly.

“I have you for that. Plus, it’s not like I want to become one of those smart-ass CEOs, I just want to open a nice dance studio far away from this goofy place.”

“That’s still a business Min, and it would help to know math so you can at least calculate your revenue.”

“Yeah, but I don't need to know the radius of a circle for that,” he once again rolls his eyes mockingly, causing a chuckle to emit from you.

“Touché Lee.”

Minho winks at you cheekily, then looks at his phone that had just vibrated notifying a message. His eyes widen hugely, causing your curiosity to spike.

“Girl, not to alarm you but Bin said there’s someone looking for you.”

“Why would that alarm me?”

Before Minho can get another word out, the large wooden door to the entrance opens widely, and in walks a guy wearing all black, glasses perched across his nose. The entire room goes silent, and you swear you can hear your own heartbeat. Leaning towards Minho slightly, you mean to ask why it has gone so silent all of a sudden, but you cannot get the question out as the man in black soundlessly makes his way toward where you and Minho are situated, walking up the stairs.

“__, right?” the nameless man asks as he reaches you, his voice breaking the thick silence in the room. Immediately, whispers sound across the room from almost everyone. Starting to feel self-conscious of the sudden attention on you, the familiar feeling of a heavy heart residing in your chest. You momentarily wonder why he even asked for your name if he knew who to go to in a class with over thirty students.

“Come with me?” The request is said as a question yet the tone he uses is harsh and demanding, as if he is not giving you a choice to say no.

You look at Minho, confused yet you see the same confused expression on his face, yet the look is definitely more prominent on his. You probably would have laughed at the expression on your friend's face if it were in a different circumstance.

“Okay let’s go,” Minho says, helping you grab your books off the desk.

“I wasn't talking to you,” The guy says slightly rudely, looking at Minho with a piercing cold glare. Minho, looking offended starts to stand up, puffing his shoulders and advancing slightly towards the man in black. Chattering and whispers spur around the class, someone even gasping audibly.

“Minho, it’s fine, just wait here.” You grab his hand and pull him back to his sitting position gently. The small action not going unnoticed by the mysterious man, who looks between the two of you, almost as if he is analyzing the situation. As you stand up, the man dressed in black heads for the exit, not sharing a glance with anyone who ogles at him.

‘Goofy ass’ you mumble under your breath as you start your walk towards the exit. Not missing the way countless eyes are on your form, you trudge out of the door, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden interest in you. You ponder in your head why on Earth this man has so much attention all of a sudden like he is a celebrity or something. Rapidly closing the door, you rest your eyes and take a deep breath to calm your racing heart, you rest against the closed door behind you, breathing steadily you slowly feel your nerves go down. You open your eyes when you’re ready and see the strange man to your right, resting his left side against the wall body turned towards you. Quickly, you scurry to gain your composure and turn towards the man watching your movements like an eagle. He has a sharp nose and high cheekbones, his gaze intimidating. If you weren’t so confused, you would probably think he was very handsome.

“So, uh what did you want?” you question, cringing at your scratchy voice due to a dry throat. Almost scoffing, the man rolls his eyes and passes you a water bottle that was conveniently resting in his hand.

“Um, thanks.” You say, feeling the heat rise up your neck.

“You need a place to live right?” He says bluntly, staring at you whilst you take a swig of water. Almost choking on said water, you bring your hand to your mouth and try to keep the water from coming out. Why does this random stranger know your life?

“I’m sorry, I don't know who you are, how do you know I need a place to live?” you reply when your mouth is free of liquid. For some reason, the tenseness on the man’s shoulders seems to loosen a little, almost as if he is relieved and you don’t fail to notice the slight change in his behavior.

“I’m friends with San and Jongho, they told me you lost your apartment.”

You are hit with a realization, and then things seem much clearer, without you knowing a smile comes to your face thinking of the two sweet people you had tutored a few days ago. This smile does not go unnoticed by the male opposite you; he even feels somewhat happy you are smiling whilst thinking of his friends, not scowling or cowering like other people would do.

“Um, I’m Hongjoong, I was wondering if you maybe wanted to uh have a look at our place, we have a room open.” Hongjoong introduces himself, stumbling on his words, you recognise his name, yet you have no idea where from. It seems a stark contrast to the scary image he was showing less than thirty seconds ago, now he is nervous and fairly restless, fiddling with the rings on his fingers and unable to make eye contact for more than three seconds. Feeling hopeful about finding a new place, your mood perks up immensely.

“Seriously?” you inquire, a hopeful smile adoring your features. Hongjoong seems to look surprised at your reaction, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink and his eyes widening, quickly he coughs and continues the cold expression on his face.

“But wait…” you trail off, remembering the whereabouts of their accommodation, “as much as it would help, you guys live in the richest area near here, and I would never be able to afford it.” your eyes droop as you look at the floor, upset that you yet again have to go on dormfinder.com for an affordable place to live.

“We are more than happy to pull some strings, I’m close to the landlord.” His words are still calm, but this time rushed.

“I really appreciate the offer, Hongjoong. I just don't see myself living there, even if you were to pull strings, my student loans barely cover the school funds let alone a place in Eastwood.”

“Your parents do not offer help?” Your breath catches in your throat, and you feel your eyes start to sting, which does not go unnoticed by the male.

“It’s just me.” You reply, your voice sharp. Seeing Hongjoong flinch slightly at your sudden harsh tone, you are quick to apologise.

“Maybe you could just have a look?” Hongjoong’s eyes stay hopeful as he peers down at you. The height difference isn't huge but still to the point where you have to lift your head slightly to meet his callous eyes.

“Look I don’t have time to be browsing through places that are out of my league, I truly appreciate it Hongjoong, but I just can’t.”

“My mother is the landlord, I already spoke to her about it and she’s happy with you staying for five hundred a month, as long as you are clean and keep the house in order.”

His words take you aback. Four hundred was the price you were paying for your old place, it’s not cheap but it's still a good price, especially for such an amazing place. Yet you are more taken aback by the fact he has already consulted with his mother. Was he so certain you were going to say yes that he already made a deal?

“I thought rent there was at least six thousand, what’s the big catch?” You are interested but keep your hopes low, you don't want to get ahead of yourself and potentially harm your heart.

“My roommates can be, well um messy, loud, and a little overbearing.” Hongjoong admits he sees your brow furrow slightly, “But we are friendly, fun, we will respect your space and never make you feel uncomfortable.” He rushes on his words again, almost as if he’s trying to sell a product. “It’s a lovely place trust me.”

“Who do you live with?” You inquire, if you want to even think about moving in you need to know who your roommates would be.

“Are you familiar with Ateez?” Hongjoong is slow and cautious with his words as if he is treading on thin ice. Your eyes widen, and you feel your heart start to race again. Hongjoong is quick to notice this and waves his hands in front of you, dismissing what he just said. Even though you may have had good experiences with the men you know as Ateez members, you don’t know if you could get involved with them after what you've heard about them. Not knowing if you can trust them, you are hesitant to accept the offer. But then again, rumors are deadly but mostly not true. You know that better than anyone.

“We aren't as bad as people perceive us; I swear.”

Now this confuses you even further. Hongjoong is another person in Ateez? Part of you believes his words, yet part of you believes your best friend. They are a selfish, cold, heartless group with no care for others' feelings. Even the way Hongjoong is presenting himself is on character, even whilst offering you the deal of your lifetime, his image is scary and cold, his words nothing more than blunt and harsh. But then again, your encounters with the rest have so far been so different and confusing. The way Hongjoong is quick to convince you that they aren’t bad people, or at least as bad as people say, leads to being even more baffled.

“No, I wasn't thinking that I was just honestly confused why you guys would ever let anyone who isn't a part of your group live with you. Why are you even doing this in the first place?”

It takes a moment for Hongjoong to reply, your words hovering around the both of you. You can almost see the cogs turning in his head as he processes his answer. Looking as if he is debating whether or not to answer, he looks at you and then around him, looking to see if anyone is watching. Slowly, he decides to answer, his sharp, cold image melting away.

Hongjoong takes a swift step closer to you, his breath fanning against your face as you look up at him. Heart pounding like it’s about to explode, the sudden closeness between our two bodies makes you small, only about a foot separating him from colliding with your tense form. His eyes are a harsh contrast to the cold, lifeless expression he previously held up, now they are soft, and kind and you feel your body loosen up as you get lost in the warm gaze of his deep brown eyes. His eyes feel so frequent as if you’ve stared into them before.

“You were the only one ever who was truly kind to us. Please, just have a look, ___,” his voice is no more than a mere whisper and you can feel your heart in your throat. Never having someone this close to you, speaking so softly, is new and you aren't sure if you like it or not. The look in Hongjoong’s eyes both comforts and unnerves you. Before you can even register what has happened, his body is back in the same position as previously, his cheeks turning red and momentarily regretting his sudden uncontrolled actions.

“I'll tell San to message you the address,” Hongjoong’s cold stare is back as he departs toward the general exit of the building, leaving you to fan your face and take deep breaths to calm the pounding of your heart. Glancing down at the water bottle in your hand, you are now even more confused than you were at the beginning of the week.

What the fuck?

----

Laying on your back, facing the ceiling, millions of thoughts run through your head as you try to decide. Next to you resides your phone, lighting up the dim room, with the messenger app open. Sighing, you pick your phone up one more time to reread through the message for the nth time.

‘Hey, here’s the address for our place. San’

Peering at the profile picture of the contact, the corners of your mouth turn up as you see a cute photo of the animated character Kuromi sleeping. It actually suits San well. You remember when you were with him at the library when he saw your phone case of the Sanrio characters. It seems funny that he has the same characters as his profile picture now. Curiously looking at his profile, you see, the picture was changed six days ago. Just after your tutoring session, it’s probably just a coincidence. As you’re staring at the picture and getting lost in your thoughts, another message notification appears on the top of your screen. This time, it's from Yeji.

‘hi girl, I really don’t want to rush you but my new roommate is moving in tomorrow, you can maybe sleep on the sofa for the time being but you really need to find a place, my landlord isn't happy about you living here rent-free.’

Groaning, you throw your phone down against your bed once again, bringing your hands up to your eyes to wipe away the stinging sensation rising in them, your stomach feeling uneasy from this whole situation. Every free hour and minute you have, you have been searching for cheap apartments close to the school, yet the only one that you even managed to find was almost twenty miles away and you do not feel like using public transport at ungodly hours in the morning.

Glancing at your phone once again, you feel conflicted in your head. You know that the boys you have met of Ateez wouldn’t be mad at you for not showing up, yet you feel like you are obligated to. Yes, the place is cheap and only about a ten-minute walk from campus and a fifteen-minute walk to Jisung’s. But it's the idea of living with the Ateez that spooks you a little bit, not really knowing what their true identity is. ‘Fuck it’ you think, what have you got to lose. Throwing yourself off the empty bed, you rush to the suitcase of your clothes to find something somewhat presentable to wear. Settling on one of the three outfits you now have, due to the rest being burnt to a crisp, you pull it on and hope that it at least looks good to them. ‘Why do I care what they think?’ you suddenly think to yourself, not wanting to have to worry about impressing them with your looks. Hurriedly grabbing your necessary belongings, you bolt out of the door, excited and both nervous. You just hope the entire group isn't there to analyse you.

----

Strolling through the long street full of large white brick houses, you feel exceptionally out of place in this insanely rich area. You’re not even sure how you ended up here in the first place and you just know Jisung would smack you if he saw where you were heading. Maybe it was the impression Hongjoong left on you, you still see his warm brown eyes whenever you close your eyes, his soft expression as he moved closer to your body. The way he spoke so softly and tenderly. You haven't even begun to unpack what he said, not knowing what he meant by you were the only one kind to them. Maybe you unknowingly lent them a pen in class? That doesn’t seem like a big enough gesture for them to invite you to literally live with them. Maybe Hongjoong likes you, you think to your self grinning giddily. Smacking your head gently, you remove the grin from your face and try to divert your thoughts from the handsome man, realizing he would never like you like that, let alone want to be your friend. Looking for the number 2410, you scan the houses as you walk from place to place. They are all beautiful detached houses with a large porches. Before you know it, you see the large number appear in front of you, the house seeming much more intimidating than the others, perhaps it's because you know who lives there and who is potentially inside. The walls of the house are white, the roof light blue, with large windows adorning the front and sides. Walking up the driveway and towards the porch, your heart gets heavy with anxiety, realizing the situation you are about to get yourself into. I just hope none of them pull a stunt like Hongjoong did, anything is better than getting your heart swooned again by another handsome male, which just so happens to be all of them so far, fuck. You really don’t have time to be falling for the ‘bad boys’ right now. Surely they won’t get angry at you if you show up and say no to the offer, right?

Reaching the front door, you hesitate to ring the doorbell, your heart attempting to jump out of your throat. When your finger reaches the button, a loud, long ringing noise is heard within the walls of the home, which breaks you out of your semi-unconscious thinking state. You step back slightly, to make sure you’re not right next to the door when it opens, not wanting to be up in the face of the person who opens it if they open the door. Gripping onto the strap of your tote bag for dear life, you silently hope that there is nobody home, but then hope there is someone home, then hope there is not. You heavily debated at this moment whether you should just run away from the door and pretend it was some kid ding dong ditching. Moving away slightly, you get ready to run for your life, when all of a sudden your hopes are shattered and you hear the click of the lock signaling the door to be opened, and you’re met with the top of someone’s head, clearly, he’s more interested with whatever video is playing on his phone.

“Unless you’re selling some of those delicious red velvet cookies, can you kindly piss off, please and thank you.” The door goes to close, yet you quickly stop it by speaking out, causing the man to halt his actions.

“I don't have red velvet cookies, but I could maybe bring you a nice red velvet muffin,” you joke, realising the man behind the door is Wooyoung. Snapping his head up, Wooyoung's ice-cold facade melts away within an instant, being replaced with the same warm smile you saw a few days ago. He can’t believe you actually showed up at the house after waiting for what felt like ages.

“Muffin?” he is surprised to see you, “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show up, again,” Wooyoung admits as he opens the door fully, letting you enter. Still not used to the nickname, your heart speeds up ever so slightly.

“Better late than never, right?” You reply bashfully, feeling sorry for coming so late.

“True,” Wooyoung helps you take off your coat and for a moment your heart stops when you feel his warm hands brush against your shoulders, not knowing the way the man helping you feels as he contacts your skin. You mutter a thank you as you take off your shoes, ignoring the way your skin burns upon touch with the man.

“Sang! She’s here!” Wooyoung yells up the tall stairs placed near the entrance of the house. Suddenly, you hear a clunking coming from upstairs, followed by some banging and shuffling. Then you see a head of white hair pop his head over the top of the staircase, his face is red and hair messy.

“Uh give me one second,” he then disappears and more shuffling and banging sounds are heard. Turning to look at Wooyoung with a confused look on your face, he just shrugs with an amused expression.

“We don't usually have visitors; he’s likely just cleaning all the shit off the floor.”

You nod in recognition, your lips turning up slightly at Yeosang’s rushed, cute actions, knowing all too well what it’s like to have unanticipated visitors.

“Would you like something to drink?” Wooyoung asks you as you both walk further into the house; he opens a door leading to a grand kitchen that looks like it's made for celebrity chefs.

“Whoa this kitchen is insane,” You stare at it in awe, walking towards the marble top counters, running your hand over the cool material.

“I love it here, I can make all the food my heart desires here,” Wooyoung admits, walking towards where you're standing. You are slightly taken aback to know that Wooyoung likes to cook, but then you remember the amazing muffin he made for you a few days ago and you realise, yes, he is a good cook. Reaching behind you, he opens a cupboard full of glasses, grabbing two he places it next to the large American fridge freezer.

“No drink?” he asks one more time.

“Oh, I’m sorry, just a water would be nice,” you reply, slightly bashful. Wooyoung’s heart speeds up at the sight of your flustered expression. Grinning at you slightly, Wooyoung then turns around to open the fridge. It's then you hear the banging of someone descending the stairs, rather quickly you notice too. When you turn around you see a red-faced Yeosang, smiling lightly at you. Happily, you return his smile, saying hello to him, to which he replies. He is not the only one who can’t believe you’re standing in their house, finally. Wooyoung hands you a glass of cold water and you thank him. Making his way towards the kitchen island, Yeosang takes a seat at one of the barstools placed around it.

“For a house with eight roommates, it sure is quiet here.” You admit, taking a sip of your water, surprised by the serenity of the place, the only banging coming from Yeosang a few minutes ago. Wooyoung lets out a laugh and Yeosang smiles to himself.

“It’s just us home right now, everyone else is finishing their last lectures of the day or doing homework in the library. Yeosang and I finished early because our dance professor got the flu.”

“You guys are taking dance?” You question, your curiosity getting the best of you, you know Minho and Felix are taking dance too, however, they have never mentioned the two males before, maybe you have to ask them later about it. From this question, the two males’ chests fill with joy knowing they have your interest, even if it’s only for a split second.

Yeosang smiles and answers, “Yeah, we are.”

“Now you really don’t know anything about us, do you?” Wooyoung says, also curious, “Not to sound narcissistic but I thought almost everyone knows what course we are taking, kinda comes with being the group everyone talks about,”

Chuckling slightly, you answer, “Like I already said to Yeosang, I kind of live under a rock, I didn't even know about Ateez until like a few weeks ago, and even then, I didn't really care. No offense of course.”

“None was taken,” Yeosang says, his hand tapping on the island, his eyes watching you intently. Smiling at him once again when you make eye contact, you decide to take a seat on the island too. Choosing the one closest to you, you sit down and are pleasantly surprised by the comfort of the small stool.

“Which dances do you prefer, like hip hop, ballroom, jazz, or contemporary?” You ask the two males, too curious to not ask some questions, the men look at you incredulously and are taken aback by your question. “What has no one ever asked you that before?” you add, confused by the reaction of the two.

Wooyoung stands on the opposite side of the island, resting against the counter behind him, “Not really, people usually just ask for us to dance for them, dance with them, do a sexy dance, you name it, I don't think anyone has ever actually been interested in the sort of technical stuff, except for maybe our parents.” Yeosang nods to his statement and you start to feel somewhat upset no one has taken the time to actually take interest in their likings, or attempt to know them better. It isn't hard to ask someone what their favorite dance is.

“My mother used to be a dancer, I used to watch her dance all the time when I was younger. I’m interested because it kind of reminds me of her. Plus, it’s much cooler than asking someone to sexy dance for you,” You admit, smiling fondly at the memories of your mother dancing in the living room late at night with your brother hobbling along trying to keep up with her pace, even though he was tired he still moved along with her, wanting to have fun with her. Wooyoung and Yeosang feel extremely happy you care about their dancing in a way not many people do, asking them a question to know them better, and for sharing something personal about yourself.

“We mostly do hip hop, but Wooyoung is into contemporary these days,” Yeosang answers you, his soft smile not leaving his features whilst he talks. It feels like it's been ages since he’s truly smiled at someone other than his seven friends.

“That’s so cool!” You exclaim loudly, “I wish I could dance but I’ve got similar to the rhythm of an elephant.” Hearing Wooyoung and Yeosang laugh heartily at your comment, your heart swells in your chest, an unfamiliar feeling arriving deep in your heart.

“You’d be surprised, apparently elephants are really good at following a beat,” Wooyoung says, grinning at you from across the counter, sending a small wink in your direction.

“I'll take your word for it, but it doesn't mean you're going to find me in the dance studio any time soon, mark my words.” You joke and laugh together with the two other men, a comfortable silence falling over you.

“As much as we’d love you to be here for dinner, you’re here to look at the house, right?” Wooyoung is the first to break the silence, not wanting you to leave the comfortable space just created, but knowing he has a duty to fulfill.

“Yes, but it doesn't mean I’m going to take the offer, I just needed to see what there is, you know?”

Wooyoung and Yeosang’s shoulders droop slightly hearing your comment, upset that even though you’ve come here, you might not take the other. Yeosang is the first to gain his composure, clearing his throat and continuing the conversation in case you notice the small dip in their behavior.

“So do you want to see around?”

“I’d love to.”

They first take you upstairs, there is a long hallway with eight doors placed along the walls, and you can’t help but wonder how they managed to fit so many rooms. Wooyoung explains each room, showing you inside the two bathrooms that are both equipped with a sizable shower and large bath in the corner, each with a toilet and sink. They do not go into the six bedrooms explaining that their roommates would prefer not to show up without their permission. This causes you to smile to yourself, realizing that they do indeed have respect for people’s boundaries even when they aren't around. However, you can’t help but wonder how each of their rooms differs, how they have decorated them, and how clean they are. When Wooyoung reaches the end of the hallway, you see there are two doors that haven’t been explained yet.

“These are mine and Yeosang’s rooms,” Wooyoung clarifies and you nod in realisation. The two doors face each other and you laugh mentally, knowing that the two men are close friends so of course their rooms are right next to each other. You expect Wooyoung to move on to the next part of the house just like he has done with every other room, yet when he doesn’t you are surprised. Opening the door he just signified was his room he lets you have a peek in and you suddenly feel grateful that he is sharing something so personal with you. It is a rather plain bedroom, with a large bed in the corner, the bed sheets a dark blue colour, and a bedside table next to it. At the foot of the bed on the opposite side of the wall, is a sizable desk with a monitor screen and a pc. There is a big wardrobe on the other side of the room also. You don’t notice much except for the fact it is very clean and how the bed is much bigger than a regular bed. You also notice a picture frame on his bedside table, you can’t see much of the photo, but it seems awfully familiar for some reason, feeling like you’ve seen it before, you stare at it probably a little longer than you should have.

“That’s my room, just so you know if you accidentally walk into it.” Wooyoung beams at you, closing the door. He momentarily feels insecure by your peering eyes analysing his room, hoping you liked it.

“This is the first time I’ve ever seen your room tidy,” Yeosang says nonchalantly, though you can see the teasing grin tugging at his features. Wooyoung’s ears go red as he gently smacks the blonde-haired male.

“How about you show your room too then?”

Immediately, the grin on Yeosang’s face disappears, replaced with a bewildered and taken aback look. Wooyoung sticks his tongue out at him soon after, walking towards the stairs and shaking his head slightly. Laughing softly at the twos bickering, you follow Wooyoung to the stairway and descend down the wide staircase. When downstairs, Wooyoung walks past the kitchen again, and into a different room which seems to be the dining room. In the dining room, there is a large table with four chairs on each side of it. In the center is a bowl of apples, bananas, and pears. The room is rather plain but still feels cozy. Next, the two lead you to the living room which is rather large. There is an enormous U-shaped couch placed against the wall, and a coffee table in the centre, the couch faces a television standing on a display that has shelves full of DVDs. You are impressed again at how clean it is and mentally make a note to check out the movies they have and also to rest on the couch, wishing to see if it is as comfortable as it looks. Strolling back to the hallway, you notice two doors that you didn’t realise were there when you first walked into the house. Yeosang is in the lead as the opens the door, which has some stairs going downwards to some sort of basement. This makes you stop in your tracks immediately and thoughts race through your head.

“Okay not to be rude but I’ve watched enough horror movies to know you never go into someone’s basement when it’s your first time being in their house.” You admit, not too excited to go into the basement of some people you don’t know too well. Wooyoung lets out a boisterous laugh whilst Yeosang is having a hard time keeping his chuckles in. They don't care that you don't want to go down, knowing that it’s smart to not give your trust to them straight away, even if they really want to gain it.

“That’s okay, for another time then, all we have done with the place is put some beanbags and a projector for when we want to have a movie night,” Yeosang speaks out, explaining why they wanted to show you. They aren’t offended at you, understanding why you have your doubts. You nod in consideration; always loving movie nights make you add another pro to why you should potentially take the offer. Closing the door, Yeosang leads you back to the kitchen and around a corner where three more white doors are placed. Two face each other whilst one faces towards the kitchen, almost similar to a u shape.

“These are more bedrooms, these ones have en suites so there’s no need for an extra toilet downstairs,” Yeosang explains. You briefly remember the door near the entrance of the house, next to the basement, which Wooyoung pointed out as the communal toilet.

“These are Yunho’s and Seonghwa’s bedrooms, and this door is um…” Wooyoung trails off. You notice the way Wooyoung and Yeosang both seem to get somewhat nervous, he continues, “If you were to move here this would be your room,”

You find it somewhat annoying that if you were to move in, you’d be residing next to the two males you have yet to meet. But then again it would give you a chance to get to know them better.

Both Wooyoung and Yeosang have hearts full of hope as you open the door to move inside the room. The room is plain, with nothing but a bed, wardrobe, and desk with no objects on either. You are pleasantly shocked by the size of the room, it’s big but not huge, the perfect size for you to make it into a cozy bedroom. One thing that does stun you though, is the size of the bed. It’s almost the same size as Wooyoung’s, definitely big enough to fit more than three people. Maybe they just all like big beds? One thing you can’t deny is how comfortable it looks. Another thing that confuses you is that there are sheets on it, looking as if someone has slept in it recently, which baffles you a little bit. There is indeed a door inside the room that leads to a stunning bathroom, with a huge shower, this makes you beam, not having to worry about awkward encounters with any of the boys when sharing a bathroom.

“So, what do you think?” Yeosang is the first to break the silence, his voice echoing through the empty space. Both the males are unknowingly looking at you with large, hopeful eyes.

Peering around the room, turning in a circle

“It’s amazing,” you begin, causing the two to hold on their breaths, full of hope, you continue, “But are you sure it’s okay I live here, five hundred doesn’t seem real to me?”

Immediately Wooyoung and Yeosang jump into action with their words.

“Yes of course! Joong said he pulled strings and so has Seonghwa.” Yeosang stutters out, his voice louder than you’ve ever heard it. This makes you baffled as to why two strangers would pull such strings for you, knowing their reputation it seems rather peculiar for them to act in such ways for someone they have never met before. It seems weird to you that they would even think of helping you, let alone pulling so many extreme strings to ensure you a place to live. Perhaps they aren't as bad as people make them out to be, perhaps they are just huge sweethearts.

You stay silent for about two minutes, contemplating all the options in your head. Little do you know how much the silence pains the two men in front of you, wishing they could read your mind. After one more silent and dreadful moment, you decide to give your answer.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t…”

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hazbinshusk · 4 months ago

Note

38 with my guy husk ??? ifn ya dont maan’ (mind)

combined with a request for husk dealing with a partner who will pick a fight with anyone if they're being sexist because the imagery was just too fun to pass up.

prompt #38: a kiss while one party is carried.

“Hey! Asshole!”

Husk sighs, setting his glass on the bar and closes his eyes. He knows that tone of voice. And while it’s all kinds of amusing to hear it within the walls and relative safety of the hotel, out here…

He throws back the rest of his drink in a well-practiced gulp without savoring the familiar burn in his throat or the slight notes of honey that had made that particular whiskey so appealing from its place on the shelf. He returns the glass to the bar and pulls a couple of bills out of his pocket and tosses them down beside it, giving the bartender a quick little salute by way of a goodbye. The bartender – a no-nonsense imp by the name of Allen – just nods in response, swipes up the cash and carries on, ignoring the potential fight brewing on the other side of the bar.

Husk groans quietly as he stretches his neck to the side until he feels a soft pop, rolling his aching shoulders out for a moment. He has about three minutes before—

“You sexist fucking troglodyte!”

Or maybe just the one.

He finds you on the other end of the bar, squaring up with some kind of warthog-faced sinner who had at least two feet and easily a hundred pounds on you. You don’t seem to have noticed, based on the fury burning in your eyes and the confrontational tension in your body. You would have been nose to nose with the guy if it weren’t for the height difference, and you jabbed a finger towards a nearby waitress. From the way the sweet-looking rabbit sinner was clutching her serving tray to her chest with one arm and repeatedly trying to tug her skirt lower on her thighs with the other, Husk could easily guess just what you were so worked up about.

“Apologize to her!”

The warthog snorted, leaning down and – Husk bristled, his teeth grinding together with a low growl as the demon sniffed you lasciviously. The sinner chuckled, eyes falling to your chest before returning mockingly to your face.

“Tell you what,” he grunted. “I’ll apologize to the little tease. If you beg me for it.”

“Why, you—”

“Bet you look fucking hot on your knees, don’t you, bitch?”

Husk catches you around the middle just as you ball up your fist and made to swing at the sinner’s snout, hauling you up over his shoulder. Your fist misses and the sinner guffaws obnoxiously as you’re pulled away, slapping a nearby buddy on the shoulder.

“What the—Husk!” you shout, shocked and belligerent, trying to squirm out of his grip. But he’s got an arm wrapped firmly around your waist as the other around your thighs and you’re stuck. “Put me down!”

Husk doesn’t respond, catching the eyes of the other residents who had joined you tonight on his way out the door. You’re vaguely aware of the sound of Angel cackling at the view of you thrown over the bartender’s shoulder, red in the face and pissed, and you flip him off on your way out. The spider demon only laughs louder.

“Husk!” you snarl, still wriggling as he leaves the bar and you’re suddenly surrounded by the familiar sounds of Pride. You shove your knees against him in another attempt to dislodge yourself from his grip but the cat just tightens his arm around you with a grumble you don’t quite catch. You know you could force him to let you go, but even as annoyed as you are, you can’t bring yourself to yank at his feathers or fur in a way he’d hate. “Fucking damn it, Husk! Let me go!”

He sighs as he finally does as you ask, setting you down in the mouth of an alleyway beside the bar you’d just been dragged from. He meets your eye calmly, apparently unaffected by your glower. Still, there’s a touch of exasperation in his gaze.

“Thank you!”

Husk rolls his eyes as you immediately make move to turn and head back into the bar, catching hold of your wrist. When you try to wrest yourself from his grasp, he sighs again, bending down and scooping your up into his arms. “Don’t even think about it, doll.”

You fold your arms petulantly, too mad to even allow yourself to be impressed once again with how easily he can lift you. “He needs an ass-kicking.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Husk says plainly, his claws rubbing gently in what you know is supposed to be a soothing back-and-forth against your thigh from where his arm is hooked under your knees. “But you ain’t gonna be the one dealin’ it out.”

“Why the fuck not?”

The corner of Husk’s mouth turns up in a soft smirk, one born of affection and patience rather than derision. “Because he’s twice your size and was braggin’ to the bartender earlier that he’s part of some kinda hit squad for the Vees or some shit.”

“So?”

He raises an eyebrow at you pointedly and just waits. Your pout deepens, and you sigh. You’ve been in Hell for a while now, but you’re not exactly topping any charts of power, in the Hotel or out of it. “Fine. But you’ve gotta let me fight some of my battles.”

“Promise, doll.” Husk smiles warmly, gratefully, and he tilts his head up to press a kiss to your forehead. His arms squeeze around you slightly. “It’s hot as hell watchin’ you get all worked up.”

Its your turn to roll your eyes, but you’re smiling as you unfold your arms from your chest and reach up to take his face in your hands. Your fingers slide through the soft fur of his cheeks and you pull him down into a kiss.

It’s a strange little tableau between the two of you, with you held in his arms like a new bride even as Husk is standing in the middle of an alleyway. Hell’s still burning around, the familiar chorus of breaking glass and cursing and explosions singing in your ears, but you can’t even register the oddity in the embrace. Not while Husk is kissing you so sweetly, so earnestly.

He presses another kiss between your brows when you part, and you wiggle slightly in his arms. “As totally hot as it is when you show off just how jacked you are—” Husk snorts a laugh. “—can you put me down now?”

Husk raises a brow, still smiling. “Depends… are you planning on finishing what you started?”

You sigh, but shake your head. “Cross my heart.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs, kissing your temple as he sets you down again. You steady yourself with a hand on his shoulder, eyes on the door to the bar. You frown.

“Still think he should get his ass kicked.”

Husk hums a laugh, wrapping an arm around your waist and leading you out onto the street proper. There’s an almost mischievous smirk playing on his features. “Oh, sweetness. He’s getting what’s comin’ to him. Promise.”

Your brow creases in confusion. “Oh?”

Husk’s hand squeezes your hip just as the window ahead of you explodes into shards, and the warthog sinner crashes onto the pavement at your feet. He scrabbles to his feet, actual fear in his eyes, and takes off down the street before you can even react to what’s happened, tripping over his own feet.

“What the—?”

“I wasn’t the only one who noticed your little disagreement, dol.” Husk chuckles. “You really think Vaggie was gonna let that shit slide?”

send me a prompt and either husk or blitzø

#husk #husk x reader #husk fic #my fic #husk hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #husk posting #hazbin hotel husk #husk fanfic #husk fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin husk

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coveholdenmyluv · 6 months ago

Text

Mean Girls - Eren Jaeger

synopsis. Eren's the new kid at Trost Academy and being fresh meat in his senior year isn't easy. Especially so when the only friends he's made yet have managed to convince him to help them mess with "The Plastics". The problem?

He's got the biggest crush on their queen bee, Y/N.

series masterlist.

chapter warnings. Foul language, rich ppl, mentions of vomit, mentions of shitting your pants (what even are these warnings LMAO), laxatives, mentions of giving a character laxatives, hitch is a bitch (I love her I’m sorry I made her like this), drama drama drama, a lot of menstrual product talk (these characters are very comfortable talking abt these things!)

chapter synopsis. From a brawl at the supermarket to a meeting with the Queen bee’s arch nemesis, our trio’s plan preparations seem to be coming together! Though, will learning some lore regarding our resident plastics impede on Eren’s drive? Perhaps the future isn’t looking so bright for our revenge seekers…

chapter 2. Fuck with the Plastics: start

"Bag secured, over." Mikasa spoke in her usual monotone voice.

"And... you're completely sure that this will only make her a bit gassy, right 'kasa?" Armin spoke next, the shake in his voice painfully obvious even through the speaker of Eren's phone. With no answer, he tries again, "Guys? Hello?"

Silence.

"You're supposed to say 'over', Armin!"

"Oh! Over."

"Alright, mine is secured too... over?" Eren announced as he slipped his arm through the plastic bag, doing his best to be inconspicuous, though the hood over his head isn't helping his case. His attire was mostly to calm his troubled conscience.

The three way call had one purpose and a very important one at that.

Phase one of 'Fuck with The Plastics'.

"Good boy," Mikasa purred and Eren swore he could hear the mischievous grin his reply had caused to form on her face. "Now Armin, relax. All this is gonna do is make her tummy a bit upset, a little gas here and there never hurt anyone. She'll get the humiliation she made Eren bear... only much much worse because of her status, plus ruin her chances of winning this highly anticipated game and possibly her entire athletic career. Over."

"Please, stop repeating what could go wrong. I'm getting nauseous again..." Eren groans into the speaker.

"Mikasa, you say that now but, what if she's allergic to it or something? Ohmylanta, what if she dies?!" Armin screeches and Eren fears he may begin to wail soon. "I don't wanna go to jail guys! I can't go back!"

"Geez Louise, Armin." Eren winces as he pulls the phone away from his ear. "My ears are bleeding."

"Oh wait Eren, now that you reminded me, can you get me some pads from the store? My cycle is pretty heavy today." Mikasa asks.

"Uh, T-M-I Mikasa..." Armin mutters as he glances around the student aid center. His portion of contribution to the trio's master plan is arguably the least interesting, though the boy didn't seem to mind. All he was put in charge of was attaining their tickets for the game, which they receive free of charge with their student ID's.

"Mikasa, I'm literally already walking out of the store." Eren says exasperatedly, though his pace has already begun to falter in preparation for his U-turn.

"Well then, go back? If I bleed out all over the bleachers, it's your jacket I'm using to wipe it clean. The ball is in your court."

"Oh my gosh, fine!" Eren relents. "What size?"

"XXL."

Silence reigns over the three, and Eren swears everyone in the supermarket had audibly halted all movements along with them.

"Mikasa, you know damn well..." Armin begins.

"Armin! Shut the hell up, the length helps with my leakage so mind your own business!"

"Zayum, okay geez."

"Wings or no wings?" Eren asks, already having made his way back into the multiple isles freshly restocked.

"Wings, please. I want to be ready for anything." The girl answers ominously.

"I don't even want to know what that means. I'll head back to the academy after I'm done with this, where do you guys want to meet?"

"The restrooms near the cafeteria are right beside the doors that lead to a path straight to the stadium. We can meet there." Armin suggests, already beginning to make his way towards the meeting spot.

"Okay. Actually, since I'm here, do you guys want any snacks for the game?" Eren asks while he grabs a box of fruit roll ups and a bag of hot Cheetos for himself. "How long does a soccer game last?"

"A little under an hour and thirty minutes, and that's if they don't go into over time which they probably will, considering who they're playing against." Mikasa answers, "Oh, and I'll take an oat meal crème pie and a red Gatorade. But! The one with the twistable cap that you can suck on."

"We'll see how long this one will last with what we have planned, though." Armin mutters into the speaker anxiously, "Anyway, I'll take some Skittles, baby Gerber puffs, Teddy Grahams, Hubba Bubba, strawberry Hello Pandas, Scooby-Doo snacks, Gushers, Pirate's Booty-"

Eren hangs up before the other boy could finish, deciding it wasn't worth his weekly allowance.

He had already arrived at the feminine hygiene products aisle by the time Armin had sent him the remaining 27 items on his wishlist for tonight, which Eren promptly ignored. The wall that held most of the menstrual supplies was expanse and slightly intimidating to the teenage boy's eyes, though that was not to say he was taken off guard. Having a close relationship with your mother desensitizes you to a large amount of aspects of womanhood that most immature boys his age would either cringe at or ridicule.

He knows the brand his mother uses is best for absorbing, but they're not the best at being discreet. He wonders which Mikasa would prefer, though he decides that coverage and preventing leakage must have been her priority considering her earlier words. Deciding upon the trustworthy brand he had always picked up on late night pad runs with his mom, he notices how it seems to be the only brand that has yet to be restocked. The one in his hand being the very last one in XXL.

As he turns to leave the isle, a high pitched voice, practically whining curse words, catches his attention. Before he instinctively turns his head towards the sound, he internally prays for there to be no reenactment of his first encounter with Armin, knowing he couldn't bear to handle another stereotypical bully, much less work up the courage to stand up to them once more.

"They don't have that one today, I swear I've looked everywhere!" The, now visible, person speaks into the cell phone clutched to his ear. "I don't know? Does everyone suddenly use the biggest size available? I know you do not need double X."

It seems to be a young boy, perhaps only a few years younger than Eren himself, with messily styled H/C hair and a few piercings adorning his delicate face.

"The one with the purple flowers on the box or the navy blue one with the stars?" The young boy asks, his impatience slowly making its way into his features.

Wait, purple flowers?

Eren's gaze moves back toward the box in his hands and his eyes trace those exact purple flowers printed and plastered smack dab in the center. Though, he knows there are tons of other brands that use matching floral patterns, perhaps this boy was looking for the one with the green background instead of the pink one Eren held.

"The one with the pink box, right?" The boy asks.

Well, perhaps he was searching for the 7 hour wear edition instead of the 8 hour one Eren got for Mikasa. Surely that was the case-

"8 hour version? Do you need to charge it or something, why is there a time limit?"

Certainly he couldn't be looking for the same size, not many people would be as paranoid as Mikasa due to leakage-

"Mm, XXL? Oh, cause of leakage, got it."

Run, that's what Eren needs to do. He knows how far passionate boyfriends would go for their lovers, especially ones as young as the boy he is sharing the aisle with. Kids his age will either pay romantic relationships no heed or take them far too seriously.

Though, before he could pivot in the other direction, the boy ends the call and turns to presumably search for the pink floral box in the size XXL. Coincidentally, the exact box Eren plans to buy.

The last box.

Green meets E/C.

His heart drops to his ass and his arm hastily shields the prized object behind his back as visible sweat forms on his forehead. Though, truly his efforts were all for naught.

Silence follows as the two teenagers hold eye contact, one accompanied with worry creases near his brows and the other with an unamused pout to his lips.

"Those are the last double X they have in stock, aren't they?"

"...Perchance..."

The H/C boy sighs and holds his hands up in surrender. "Look, dude. I come in peace, it's fine. What do I look like to you? Someone who would go batshit over menstrual products?" Eren shakes his head hastily, to which the younger boy agrees. Of course, what was Eren thinking? Incriminating a person who looked to be no older than the age of 15 was not cool on his part.

"You're right, My bad."

Letting any past thoughts flee his mind, Eren resumes his standstill with the stranger, neither seemingly knowing what to do next...

...before the stranger juts a finger behind Eren and exclaims, "Hey, look over there, it's TSwift!"

"What?! Where?!"

Eren was tackled to the ground and landed with a coherent 'oof', the assailant clambering on top of his chest and tugging at his arms to loosen the tight grip on the box that remains in his hands.

"That was a low blow, you psycho! I haven't seen her since I was in fifth grade!" Eren whines as he tries to free himself. Deciding that his actions were amounting to nothing, he thrusts the box away from his body and above his head, the cardboard sliding across the tiled floor of the supermarket.

"Morality is non-existent when it comes to the last box of pads, pretty boy!" The younger boy grits as he abandons Eren's body in favor of stumbling to his feet to reach the box.

As the boy steps over his head, Eren grabs onto one of his leather boots, causing him to plummet with his fingers outstretched only inches away from the prize. Eren flips himself onto his stomach and scrambles over the other boy, laying a palm atop his face to thwart his vision. In retaliation, though not after a sharp squawk, the boy chomps on the fingers overlaid his mouth, causing the brunet to cry out in pain.

"Give up!" The boy demands, "I don't care if I have to bite every one of your fingers off, I'll be leaving with that box!" He declares and delivers a torturous blow to Eren's crotch, causing him to wheeze and topple over in pain. "Aha!" The boy proclaims as he nears his victory, emitting a cry of premature success.

Though, before his slender fingers are able to reach the jackpot, his worst fear is born into existence.

"My Prada boots!" He squeals in agony and fear as Eren holds the cherished shoe above his head triumphantly and a pained smirk creases onto his face. "Don't you dare you monster, they're monolith!"

"You rich people are all the same," Eren scoffs as he throws the boot aways behind him, not sparing a glance in the direction as the boy abandons the box in favor of running over to his beloved shoe. Eren limps over to the pink box and swipes it up with an exhausted sigh escaping his lips. "I win." He states in a cocky tone, taking pride over the brawl he emerged victorious from, already preening at the amount of bragging rights he had just earned himself. "Mikasa, you owe me big time- ack!"

Not without a war cry, the unrelenting stranger rams a shopping cart into Eren's body, forcing the brunet back onto the ground and causing the box to slip out of his grasp and slide onto the floor once again.

"Never mess with my Prada boots again," He heaves and delicately steps over to the abandoned box, taking it into his hold and placing a kiss atop the the printed flowers. "Auggie, you're awesome." He then turns to face Eren and boldly upturns his pierced nose at the sight of the older boy sprawled on the floor. "You put up a good fight, unfortunately for you I reign superio-"

"I didn't hear a bell!" Eren shouts as he springs up and tackles the shorter boy, resulting in the two wrestling on the ground once again, just as they had originally started. Scratching, kicking, and biting their way across the floor, though noticeably making zero progress towards the box they both sought out.

An awkward cough acts as the bucket of cold water that halts their movements, both boys craning their heads in the direction of the sound alike deers in headlights.

An employee that hauled a cart filled to the brim with pink cardboard boxes and printed purple flowers decorating their surfaces stood before their tangled ball of limbs, gifting them a critical stare. Leisurely, and hesitatingly so, she tucks the prized boxes where they belong, before scurrying away with her haul of products stacked into her squeaky cart.

An air of silence follows the departure of the poor retail worker, both boys remaining stunned by the sudden appearance. Though, after realizing what a compromising position they had been caught in, the unraveling of their limbs went unspoken as they stood simultaneously.

Another awkward cough, though this one originating from the brunet, filled the vacant space between the two. Eren grabs ahold of one of the boxes that was recently stocked, his head hanging low in embarrassment. "So..." He utters hesitatingly.

The younger boy clears his throat, "M sry." He mutters.

"What?"

"I said I'm sorry! ...I know that Tswift joke was wrong of me."

Eren sighs in resignation, now realizing how idiotic his actions were, especially considering the fact that he seemed to be the older of the two. "It's fine. I guess we were both signed up for errand boy today, huh?"

The stranger shook his head, "Yeah but, to be honest, this is my first time going on a pad run for my sister. I wasn't 'old enough' a few years ago, and even then we don't usually do our own shopping. Our butler handles all of that."

"Oh..." It was stupid of Eren to forget that most people in his city were lathered in riches, but he did. His recent encounter with this new boy only furthered his forgetfulness, because what sort of opulent teenage boy was willing to engage in a full out brawl for a box of pads? "Well, either way. I'm guessing these aren't for you?"

"Nah, they're for my sister's friends. But, she can get pretty impatient real quickly and I'm not in the mood to deal with teenage Godzilla. She'd probably run me over with her convertible."

The mental image of Godzilla driving a convertible, only to then run over an edgy teen made Eren chuckle, "I get it, this size seems to be in high demand."

"My sister says that it's because of leakage, whatever the hell that means. I don't even think I want to know."

Eren smiled sympathetically, little brother ignorance was something he knew about all too well. "So, why are you here instead of your butler? I think I would have stood a better chance against him if I'm being honest."

The boy shrugs nonchalantly, "She says it's an emergency. Those girls can get pretty scary when in a state of panic. For being older than me, you'd think they'd be better at dealing with stress."

"I understand completely." Eren huffed in exhaustion, "My friends and I are dealing with these real popular kids at our school, we've got an ulterior motive of course, but we've seen a fair share of their antics and I can tell we'll have our hands full. At least the pay off will be worth it. We have a whole plan and everything."

The boy cackled a laugh that shook his whole body and clapped a palm onto the older boy's shoulder, "You don't say? What's such a good prize worth dealing with what seems to be a bunch of rich maggots eating away at your soul?" He asked.

"Well, it has to do with this girl..." Eren begun to attempt to elucidate the entire situation to this stranger but in the end only arrived with stutters, before he decided that the effort of reliving his trauma was not worth it. He sighed, "It's a long story."

Unexpectedly, a highly pitched rendition of 'I'm Just a Kid' began to chime in the stranger's pants, causing him to wince and groan in annoyance. "A story that I can't stay for, unfortunately." He muttered before slipping the device out of his pocket. "It's Godzilla." He confirmed his suspicions but made no moves to accept the call. Instead, he offered a jeweled hand towards the brunet.

This hand wasn't like the one that was offered to him earlier today. Instead of diamonds and gold, silver and various colored stones wrapped around this boy's digits, crowning them with luxury and status.

"My name's Augustine, but you can call me August." He paired with a friendly grin, bringing attention to the silver lip ring hung on his bottom lip.

For some reason, this boy struck something within Eren. He didn't know what it was, but there was a sense of reminiscence flooding his senses when he stared at his smile. The reminiscence that creeps up on you when you look at your sibling and recognize that the shirt they have on is in fact not theirs but yours.

He can't put his finger on it... but August reminded him of someone.

Nonetheless, he excepted his dressed hand with his own bare one. "Eren, it's just Eren."

"Alright, just Eren. I have to go, but hopefully I'll see you around!" August called out as he scampered down the aisle before Eren could have gotten another word of parting out.

What a nice guy, Eren hopes to see him again.

After grabbing the snacks that his newest friends had ordered, promptly ignoring 25 items on Armin's list, he pays the nice woman working the register and makes his departure. By the time he steps back on the pavement, the sun has begun its decent, painting the concrete buildings and vibrant trees in a golden hue.

Trost truly is a beautiful district — the architecture alone places it on a superior level when compared to many other extravagant districts out there.

Eren himself has never lived the kind of life that his new friends or acquaintances were born into. Although having a successful doctor for a dad, it was never an aspect that had ever brought upon wealth for the Jeager family. His mom rapidly rising in her fashion designer career is what has brought him to such a district as this one. Mrs. Jaeger is well on her way to being known for her individuality, and he couldn't be filled with more pride.

Having to leave his old school was pretty easy for him, he had never had many friends there anyway. Sure there were the few he could greet in the hallways, but none that had ever willingly stricken a genuine conversation with him, much less an interesting one. Though, that's not to say the experience of moving out of the blue in your senior year was something he was excited about either, that wouldn't be a nice time for anyone.

It was just his luck that he'd already made a fool out of himself on his very first day. In front of his crush to boot.

Y/N Ackerman.

He wouldn't lie to himself and proclaim that he has no feelings towards the girl. He quite literally puked on her because the amount of emotions she made him feel at a single glance proved to be overbearing to his body. Though, a portion of himself finds itself conflicted. Actually, scratch that - multiple portions of himself find themselves conflicted. As if the little people in his head are arguing against each other, and he isn't sure which side he should be on.

On one hand, the purple person that he decides to name Armeen is arguing that he should hate the girl. Mikasa said that Y/N had surely made it her goal to embarrass Eren in an attempt to solidify her superiority against him and that she was a vicious person with the ugliest soul she had ever seen.

On another, the red person, Mika Mika, proclaimed that he already hates her. Armin and Mikasa have informed him of her vile friends, the people she willingly surrounds herself with. She condones their actions by mere association. Not to mention the absolute joke she had made of him, which was sure to have cost him a year's worth of ill-repute. Hell, probably even the rest of his soon to be miserable life.

But then, as if he had grown a sudden third hand, there appeared a pink person. This one unnamed, whispered details the other two would surely never approve of. How could she be a vicious person, when she had went out of her own way to not only invite him, but his only friends, to her highly anticipated game AND her own home, knowing that everyone in their grade had heard the abrupt invitation? She was willingly attempting to help him fix his image. How could the person those little people in his head describe as ruthless and callous, ever make his insides light on fire, as if he was a skewered rotisserie chicken on a white Sunday morning? How could the devil herself bring upon him feelings only talked about in movies?

Manipulation.

Gaslighting someone to their wits' end by batting her fluffy lashes. It's an old tactic really, but one that would never die out, nor could it. Eren isn't stupid, he knows the truth of the situation. How dire a messy set up like this could have affected her reputation as well, he gets it. Understands that measures need to be taken to prevail through such a trying time. When you're at the top, tiptoeing a razors edge, everyone at the bottom has a clear shot to shoot you down. Those mean comments and accusations of prejudice are just the paint strokes crafting a precise target onto her back.

But, to bring him and his friends into her little scheme?

To escape that threat, you need to move, and to move, you need stepping stones. Eren won't let himself or his friends be used as stepping stones.

That's exactly the reason why the three of them have developed a plan to knock her off of her prodigious throne. No longer will they allow the Queen Bee of Trost Academy to continue her reign of exploitation.

Instead, she will... shit her pants?

Well, that's the best they could come up with, so it'll have to do.

It was simple in nature really, Eren simply needed to buy her a drink, one that Mikasa claims has always been her favorite pick to drink before a game, though Eren still questions how she even had that information, and then he will offer that said drink to her as a peace offering.

A seemingly innocent gesture, except it's not. Mikasa was in charge of acquiring laxatives which they would infuse into the refreshment, which Y/N would drink and whatever happened next would be left up to fate. Though, Armin had elucidated three paths that which this plan could take.

Probability 1: She'd harbor a stomach ache, forcing her to be benched due to her poor performance, effectively eliminating the captain of Trost's varsity soccer team. Ruining her image, their chances of winning their vital game of the year, and her life.

Probability 2: She'd fart up a storm, or worse, ruining her image of the ideal senior of the year, their chances of winning their vital game of the year, and her life.

Probability 3: She'd pull an Eren and projectile vomit all over her teammates and opponents. Ruining her stellar image, their chances of winning their vital game of the year, and her life.

The third was preferred for their goal of seeking revenge, but they wouldn't complain if either of the other two played out perfectly.

"Finally, Eren! You took so long, we started to wonder if you had gotten lost on the way here." Armin says as the boy approaches their meeting spot.

"I did, three times. There is no need for this school to be so damn huge."

"Well, you're here now so..." Mikasa surreptitiously looks over her shoulder and then Eren's, "You got the goods?" She asks.

"Stop acting shifty Mikasa, you're making me nervy." Eren rebukes, eyes glancing from side to side in paranoia.

"Do you have it or not." She exasperatedly asks. He timidly ushers the plastic bag her way, his back moving to obstruct the exchange from any prying eyes. "Good boy, keep me covered and I'll crush these bad boys and then pour them in."

"Hurry 'Kasa, I don't wanna go to jail!" Armin's nerves get the best of him, and just as Mikasa began to pour the laxatives into the energy drink, his trembling palms latch onto her shoulders and begin to shake her back and forth. Unfortunately, the forcible motions cause her hand to slip and pour more than what was necessary for what they had planned. "Oops..." He breathes.

Eren's jaw drops at the amount, "Holy shit, are you- are you sure that's okay?" A dramatic gasp forcibly rasps his throat, "She's not actually gonna die, right?!"

"Uhm... no... I don't think so."

"What do you mean, you don't think so?!" He screeches.

"Ohmygosh,we'regoingtojailI'mnotbuiltforthatimgonnadie-"

"Armin, chill." Mikasa grits, before twisting the cap of the bottle and giving it a good shake. "She'll be fine, we're not going to jail. All that'll change is the addition of one more possibility, which is shitting her pants for real."

"I thought we were only joking about that? You mean she'll actually shart herself?" Eren asks.

"Yeah," Mikasa declares with no amount of remorse in her irises, simply tilting her head to face him head on, smirk standing proud on her lips. "Even better than we planned, right? Give the bitch the humiliation she deserves."

After a moment of maintaining arduous eye contact with the ravenette, Eren relents, throwing his head back to stare at the ceiling instead and interlocking both hands in his shaggy hair. "You're crazy. Like deadass, you belong in a mental hospital."

"Okay but, wait. The bottle is already open, no one who has a right mind would accept an already opened drink from someone she met yesterday." Armin points out, ever the observer.

"Well, she's gonna have to in order for this plan to work..." Mikasa mumbles, lips pursing in thought. "Oh, Eren! Why don't you be a doll and offer to open it for her, that way she wouldn't even notice it has already been open." She announces with a proud nod, clearly impressed with her solution.

Eren however, isn't as impressed. If anything, the pit in his stomach twists and turns even tighter, bringing forth creases onto the surface of his skin as his face lightly scrunches in disgust. Playing a direct hand in the demise of anyone's athletic career can be catastrophic to the psyche, though he doubts Mikasa's is being affected much if at all.

"Fine."

"Good boy-"

"Stop calling me that!"

"Anyway, we should get going now. Or else, we'd be late. The game starts in 20 minutes, and the walk there is about five, give or take. Though, the introductions take up a good 10 to 15." She ignores the boy.

"Plus, we still need to find seats. Hopefully we won't have to sit on the opposing team's side, or else we'd be royally fucked." Armin adds as they exit the school building.

The pathway that leads them directly towards the stadium is beautiful and cleanly. The school itself is exceptionally cared for, with vibrant green bushes that looked as if they were clipped with the utmost precision. Marbled vases for various other plants and polished benches littered across the lawn oozed a luxurious aura.

"Who are they playing against?" Eren asks.

"I think it's Stohess Prep." Armin answers.

"Oh, that means drama~" Mikasa adds, "10 bucks Levi chokes out Coach Nile?"

"Mm, nah. 20 bucks it's Ymir and Hitch." Armin replies, pointer finger prodding at the fat of his cheek in thought.

"Oh, I forgot about those two. 30 Y/N is forced to step in either way."

"40 bucks she joins."

"50 that they recreate that one Euphoria scene from season 2."

"60 someone yells plus ultra."

"70 bucks Y/N gets hit by a bus and dies."

"..."

"Okay, you need an exorcist." Armin quips.

"I've been wondering, why do you hate her so much? There's gotta be history you're not telling me." Eren asks the girl.

It was true, he can feel the animosity she seemingly reigns in 24/7 and he wonders if it was at all reciprocated. Though, he has the feeling that it's heavily one sided.

"Mikasa and Y/N-"

"Armin, shut it." The girl grits before her friend could have thought to utter the remainder of his statement.

Eren groans, "Armin, don't shut it. Open it. Open it wide."

"Don't word it like that, Eren..."

"I just don't see the point," Mikasa admits, though her face was telling to how difficult the situation seems to be for her, "What's in the past should be left there, why open up that can of worms?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but it's pretty damn obvious that those worms have been out for a while now. You don't think I've noticed how personal this seems to be for you?" Eren rebuts.

"Oh, and I'm not supposed to notice how personal this is for you? As in, more than just some revenge brought upon by petty high school humiliation?" She challenges, and her piercing gaze bore into Eren's own. "You've made your little crush pretty obvious, the addition of this information might change more than you think it would, Eren."

"Who I have a crush on is none of your business. Besides, yeah, I'll admit I'm not blind, I can tell Y/N is an attractive girl. You can't blame me for admitting so, but a silly little school crush is just a silly little school crush at the end of the day. I don't get how your past with her had anything to do with something as minuscule as that."

Mikasa's arms crossed before her chest in frustration, and she kept her head forward, not relenting at unsealing her lips. Though, Armin, being placed in the middle of both teens, hates being a quiet middleman.

"Y/N and Mikasa are cousins." He blurts.

Eren's jaw drops, "What?!" His fingers thread through his hair once again, this time gripping at the roots because what the actual fuck. "You're fucking with me, right?"

Armin shakes his head vehemently, "Deadass. They even have the same last name! You'd have never guessed, right?"

"Well, not really. Like, at all."

"Trust me, I wish it wasn't true either." Mikasa sighs.

Eren's arms flail before him defensively, "No! It's not that I wish it weren't true, it's just that it's hard to believe considering how you guys are like polar opposites. I mean she's so... y'know-" He awkwardly shrugs his shoulders, expecting the action to speak the words he couldn't find in himself to utter out loud. "And you're... y'know..."

Armin coughs, "Emo."

"I'm not emo! As a matter of fact, I'm not even a goth, contrary to popular belief. I'm just edgy, how hard is it to look up, people?!"

"...what's the difference?"

"Oh, shut up, Armin! That's why your balls haven't dropped!"

"You promised you wouldn't bring that up anymore!"

"Armin, your balls haven't dropped?"

"Oh, look! We're here!"

As Eren looked before them, he was met with the front of an impressive industrialized soccer stadium. The words 'Home of the Scouts' were engraved above the entrance in proud bold letters. He notices that they are currently standing in the middle of the massive parking lot, containing multiple first class busses bearing the titles 'Stohess Stallions'.

Guessing that those belong to the opposing team, and that team was no where to be found, Eren concludes that both teams must be inside already. Which begs the question, how late is this trio?

"You're in the way."

Eren nearly jumps out of his skin at the sudden stern voice, and the freight was not limited to himself. Armin squeaks and hides behind his two friends, using them as human shields, though Mikasa simply whips around with a nasty scowl at her face because, who would have the audacity?

Oh, that's who.

"Hitch." She grits.

Coming face to face with a group of girls clad in forest green shorts and jersey's, though their matching team jackets obscured the latter, was intimidating, to say the least. The one standing with the most pride, right at the front and center, wore a smug smirk on her face that her short and wavy dirty blonde hair framed beautifully.

"Well, well, well, would you look at who we have here." She drawls with a laugh. "This is such an interesting trio you guys have going on."

"Mikasa who is this, and why did she come up to us like an anime villain?" Eren whispers towards the ravenette.

"Just our luck." The girl mutters under her breath, not at all a just answer in Eren's eyes, but he was not about to voice his thoughts.

The stranger eyeballs Eren in a way that a certain Ackerman did just a few hours earlier in the day, though this time it did not have him weak in the knees, instead an eerie shiver ran down the length of his spine and caused him to gulp down a yelp.

"Come lookin' for a barf bag, new kid?" She decides to single him out directly, "You know, it's almost funny. I always have the same reaction you did when I see Ackerman as well! I don't blame you, hell, I'd even praise you if it wasn't so disgustingly embarrassing." She jests. "You are new aren't ya? Man, the balls you must have to pull that stunt on your very first day. Oh, the look on her face was enough to have me in tears, I've got to tell you."

"It wasn't on purpose." He mumbles with an eye roll.

"Oh, be careful Hitch. You'll make him mad and we just had our jerseys dry cleaned." Comes a voice from beside her, one of her teammates presumably. This draws out many more chuckles from the group of girls, causing Eren's cheeks to heat up from the jab at his poor stomach.

That voice, low but smooth, causes both Armin and Mikasa to stiffen, as if they had recognized it.

"No way..." Armin mutters, his eyes widening in surprise as the owner of the voice made herself visible.

Another blonde, though this one a paler tone, with glacial blue eyes and a sloped nose emerged from the group, a large bag slung over her shoulders and purple cleats hanging from her fingers.

She had an aura about her, one familiar to Eren. One that wrapped itself around every throat and forced the people around her to pay her heed.

"You're right, Annie. Coach would bench us if we happened to sully them and he can't afford to bench his star players." Hitch agrees, though her eyes are not on her apparent teammate. Instead, they seemed to be inspecting Armin and Mikasa's faces, clearly amused by their starstruck expressions.

"Kasa, do something..." Armin whispers.

"What do you want me to do, hex her?"

"Mikasa, long time no see." Annie continues. It seems that the two know each other, perhaps they are old friends? What a heartwarming reunion. "How's it feel living in your cousins shadow?"

Or, perhaps not.

Mikasa's eyes darken and she begins to fumble in her bag for a pair of scissors, "I quite like the shadows, it gives me a place to properly plan your downfall. Maybe even your murder."

Hitch gasps and feigns a frightened expression, "Oh shiver me timbers, small emos are so scary."

"I'll show you scary cunt-"

"Hey hey hey! What's going on here?" Connie unexpectedly appears from behind the trio, his arms making their way around their shoulders. "You guys will be late if you keep loitering around."

"You could never be Bokuto." One of the girls murmur.

"Oh, Connie, I'm so glad you're here. Bend down a little will you? I feel like I have something stuck in my teeth." Hitch jests as she rubs a finger across her pearly whites.

"Aha, funny." Connie grits, "Hey, how's Marlowe by the way? I imagine he's better since he left you for, who was it again?" He asks with a false pensive look.

"Her mom." Armin declares with a proud grin.

The girl clenches her jaw and scowls, "Fuck you, Connie. Isn't yours chilling upside down on a roof?"

"Wrong AU, hitch."

"At least my hair doesn't make me look like I call corporate." Connie retorts.

"Yeah, well at least-"

"Hitch, we don't have time for this." Annie interrupts, holding her wrist out and allowing her teammate to glance at her watch... is that a Rolex? "We still need to warmup."

Eren doesn't think he has ever seen Connie's eyes darken as much as they did then, shooting daggers at the blonde on par with the ones Mikasa fires at her cousin. "You finally decide to talk, Annie?" He calls the girl out.

Without even sparing him a glance, she states a monotone, "I have nothing to say to you." And walks away from the group in pursuit for the entrance.

Following her departure, Hitch scowls at the fact that she too should follow. "Whatever, I'll save my energy for your little friends on the field. You better watch your captain, it'd be a shame if she forgets her place and mysteriously finds herself on her knees where she belongs."

"Don't dish out what you can't take." Connie asserts.

The girl simply rolls her eyes, "Let's go." She says and takes her leave, taking her army of followers along with her.

"Saweetie did it better!" Armin yells after her, to which Mikasa agrees and waves her hand daintily at the group.

"Man, you are having the worst of luck today, aren't you, Eren?" Connie says with a guffaw.

Eren groans and holds his head in his hands. "Trust me, I know."

"I'm surprised you held your own, Connie. Considering that was literally Annie... and she's with Stohess." Mikasa says.

The boy sighs, "Yeah, I know. Fortunately, Reiner found out yesterday, so we weren't as blind sided. Though, we still haven't told the team, and that's been a topic of discourse amongst a couple of our friends." He answers, and the pained expression on his face almost forces Eren to feel sorry for him.

Almost.

Shaking his head lightly to disperse his frown, he instead returns his attention towards the brunet once again. "Anyway, don't worry about Hitch. She's always like that. It's petty school rivalry shit that we used to have with Marley till they shut that school down. Now Stohess thinks they need to step up and claim the spot as our rivals." He explains, though Eren laughs at the ridiculousness of his joke.

They're in high school, clearly it wouldn't actually be that serious, right?

Why is Eren the only one laughing?

"No literally, look." Connie says and juts a finger towards the busses they had spotted earlier. Eren hadn't spotted it before, but right under the school name seemed to be the words, 'Trost Academy rivals! Fuck Marley and Fuck Trost!'

"Oh..." Eren utters breathily, "We're too old for this shit."

"Anyway, we should really get going or else we won't find good seats." Armin ushers his friends with his hands.

"Oh!" Connie exclaims with a newfound grin, one that Eren thinks fits him better than his previous frown. "Don't worry about your seats, you can come chill with us. We've already saved some for you guys."

Armin gasps dramatically and his eyes nearly bulge out of his skull. "Y-you mean, your VIP section? We get to sit in VIP?!" He screeches. Even Mikasa seems taken aback, her jaw slack and her brows hiding behind her bangs, though she didn't dare voice it.

"Yup! Though I had no idea it was called that, Sasha is gonna freak when I tell her!" The teen buzzes with anticipation. "I'll lead the way, come on."

As they begin to follow him, Eren leans into Armin's ear to ask, "Why are they called the VIP seats?"

Armin sputters, "Why else, Eren? They're the best seats in the stadium. The plastics are the only ones to ever use the space, but today we're making history."

"We haven't even told you about the rest of their clique." Mikasa adds.

"The rest? There're more than the eight we've talked about?"

"Oh Eren... there are levels to this shit, okay? Not to mention, lore." Armin says whilst his fingers wiggle before Eren's face to build suspense.

"For instance, remember Annie from earlier? The blondie with blue eyes and a tongue as sharp as a dagger?" Mikasa asks.

"Yeah?"

"Well, she might not act like it, but she's a retired plastic."

"What? You mean she attended Trost at one point? Also, you can retire? Why would she retire?"

"She didn't just attend Trost, she was a founding member of the plastics. A true OG. She helped run our halls. In fact, I'd go as far to say that she was once closer to Y/N than Jean has ever been." Armin said.

"Then, what would make her willingly give that up?"

"Something so simple and obvious, yet achingly torturous that you wouldn't help but sympathize with her. Especially someone like you, wearing your heart on your sleeve like that." Mikasa lightly jabs at her friend.

"Just tell me, 'kasa. I'm not as soft hearted as you think I am." Eren grumbles.

"Unrequited love."

Eren's breath catches in his throat at her words, for he couldn't believe what she was implying. "W-what? You're telling me..."

"Yup," Armin decides to finish his sentence, "We're not sure which way it went or how exactly it went down, but...

One of those girls loved the other far deeper than just mere friendship."

Taglist: @idreamitski @str4wberrylover @jesus-son-of-god @hoejosblindfold @caycaysblogg @simpingmyassoff @youatemylollipop @enouche @longestline [comment to be added, dm to be removed!]

A/N: im sorry this took so long, its shorter than the last but twice as long as my first draft 😟

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