#but it will be funny to look back and see how many boxes i can tick

[oceanicwriting]

souvenirs.

summary: when your boyfriend spends the whole trip buying souvenirs that seem unnecessary to you, it's hard to change your mind. or maybe you just needed a little fun?

pairing(s): non-wizard!lorenzo berkshire x non-wizard!fem!reader

a/n: short and a little funny! hope you like it, xoxo.

. . .

ㅤㅤㅤ you'd been wandering around a small local fair in town for fifteen minutes. you'd tried a ton of street food, but lorenzo had other plans to spend his money on.

ㅤㅤㅤ —do you think you need another one of those? —you ask with a laugh, putting a new fridge magnet in his shopping bag—. you've got another hundred of those in the car.

ㅤㅤㅤ lorenzo clicks his tongue and says—: of course not. these are all different.

ㅤㅤㅤ you shake your head, smiling at the amused glint in his eye.

ㅤㅤㅤ lorenzo berkshire, your boyfriend of four years, and you are on a long summer road trip to visit colleges in the country. you've been to seven different places so far, trying typical dishes, sleeping cramped in the car, and showering in hostels. it's been amazing from the start, leaving your homes behind to spend each new day together.

ㅤㅤㅤ since you started the trip and stopped the car in the first city, lorenzo has been obsessed with buying small or large souvenirs. in the first city alone, he managed to find seven different t-shirts, twenty pins, and ten magnets. you weren't worried that he was going to spend all his money, but that the car would explode with the amount of stuff he's accumulated so far.

ㅤㅤㅤ when you arrive at the park of a new university, you take a couple of photos, eat ice cream, and share a kissing session mixed with laughter on the blanket he had spread on the floor. the only thing that disturbs that serene peace is the call from your mother, which enters your cell phone with the familiar ringtone.

ㅤㅤ�� —i'll go answer it over there, —you say, reaching for your phone and getting up from the ground with the attentive, pleading gaze of your boyfriend—. i'll be right back.

ㅤㅤㅤ your mother talks about various things that you can barely understand because she speaks too fast and many dogs walking with their owners come to receive caresses from you. minutes later, you don't know how many exactly, you say goodbye. you walk towards lorenzo, who is with his back to you, looking into the distance at the large park as if he had lost something.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what are you doing standing there?

ㅤㅤㅤ and he turns around. in his hands is a torn piece of paper, although that is not what catches your attention at all. the shirt he is wearing has written: i love my hot girlfriend. the word love is replaced by a red heart and hot has a funny font of flames.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what...? —you question in a soft murmur, mouth agape and feeling a fit of laughter rise from the tips of your toes—. enzo...

ㅤㅤㅤ —isn't it fantastic?!

ㅤㅤㅤ you don't know if it's because of the way his face can't hold back the happiness or that the shirt, although quite funny, fits him like a glove. you had to admit that he looked cute, but his excited gaze only made your laughter explode irreparably.

ㅤㅤㅤ —a man passed by here selling these.

ㅤㅤㅤ it's impossible to stop the outburst that leaves your fit of laughter, attacking you from all sides. lorenzo is not far behind, laughing softly just at your reaction. how he loved to see you laugh.

ㅤㅤㅤ —enzo —you say, erasing the tears that accumulate in your eyes with the back of your hand.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what's so funny? it's not like i'm lying.

ㅤㅤㅤ you shake your head, moving closer to him, saying—: did you really buy this?

ㅤㅤㅤ your relationship with lorenzo has always been a box of surprises. when you first saw him, you thought he was this mysterious boy who would never dare to tell his darkest secrets, but it turns out he's the most talkative boy in the world. he's funny, playful, and daring when he's looking for much more than just kissing your lips. a perfect dork.

ㅤㅤㅤ —well, i had bought flowers, —he says, holding up the torn paper you had noticed in his hand a while ago—. a dog ate them...

ㅤㅤㅤ the simple image of your boyfriend wrestling with a dog makes you laugh again with so much joy that it's adorable.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you're quite a case, aren't you?

ㅤㅤㅤ he shrugs and grabs your waist.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i'll wear this for the rest of the trip. just so you know.

ㅤㅤㅤ he brings you closer to kiss you. feeling his warm lips wrap yours with softness melting you in his arms. his touch is so delicate and affectionate that your hands can't help but wrap around his neck, pulling him a little.

ㅤㅤㅤ when you separate, there is no way that your laughter won't attack you again, looking at him between your bright eyes to laugh over and over again.

ㅤㅤㅤ —if i have to see you laugh all day, i can say that it is the best purchase of my life.

ㅤㅤㅤ finally, when looking at him doesn't bring out your laughter, you look for somewhere to have dinner before getting back in the car to continue on your route. and while he drives, you think that lorenzo's compulsive shopping spree isn't so silly, because that bouquet of flowers with five pins that will end up staying in his bag didn't displease you at all.

[dexaroth]

ive already said this before about how ive felt so disconnected from art. its all just lines and poses and specific distances away from the camera, layers of color... something triggered a switch in my brain that is making things just not feel real anymore.

and its like. ok. whatever. its still fun to draw and i get very happy when i manage to draw something good. but i lack the motivation! so.. lemme think.. ah! my characters! perhaps i should try to actually flesh them out as real people, with a past and personalities and relationships..

and the more i read about it the more disconnected i feel. is that all life is about? traits and backstories and being bound to everything that happened to you.. the ways you think and act being somewhat easily traceable to your history..character arcs. stories just being a means to an end(?)

and i also want a world for my ocs to live in that is a bit believable and justifies them, but every bit of advice and apparently common worldbuilding things have all just been done before.

is there any chance of making something that matters when its all been done before or if everything else feels unreal and abstract. is there a point to anything

[bi-writes]

Your MOB au gives me so many butterflies 🥴 I hear the key to a long and happy marriage is to be with someone you think is funny. How do you think Simon and his wife make each other laugh? I can see them being the couple that gossips while people watching or MOB wrangles Simon in bed to show him funny cat videos on her phone.

mail-order bride

simon likes spending time with you without screens. he does love watching a movie with you, but one of his favorite ways to spend time with you is to open a little closet of board games and play one of them with you. he'll put on a little music, spread out the game, and you usually spend the evening sitting in his lap and playing either on the couch or on the floor using the coffee table or at the dining table.

"simon, what would you do if i was a worm?"

simon raises a brow, fitting a corner piece of the puzzle into place. he snorts a bit.

"wot are y'on, love?"

"i'm serious!" you laugh. "what would you do if i was a worm?"

"step on you, baby. you'd be a fuckin' worm. gross."

you pout a little, dramatically, and simon winks at you.

"olright, love. i'd put ya in a little box and cherish ya foreva. tha' wot y'wanna hear?"

you giggle, settling in his lap, picking up an edge piece and putting it in its spot.

"yeah. that's what i wanna hear."

"simon, look."

you hold out your phone in bed, shoving it in his face. he grunts a little, squinting at the bright screen, and he raises a brow as he watches a compilation of orange cat videos put together. he chuckles a little when he sees it, leaning over the bed and planting a kiss on your cheek. he rolls over onto his side, curling a big arm around your waist and pulling you back into his chest. he tucks his face over your shoulder, leaning over you, and you spend the better part of an hour giggling to yourself as you show simon the collection of videos on your feed.

the next morning, your phone pings while simon is away on base. you hurry out of the kitchen, wiping your floury hands on the apron you wear before seeing a request for a new follower.

you open the app, raising a brow when you look at the account without a profile picture asking to follow your private account.

pumpkin__eater141 wants to follow you.

you click on the profile, rolling your eyes when you see the only picture on the account a very grainy, filtered photo of two sergeants sticking their tongues out and holding up bunny ears behind each other. in the background, very blurry, you can see a glimpse of a skeleton-bone painted glove holding up a middle finger. the caption reads wankerzzz!!!!

the account has 1 follower (sudz_n_budz141), and it follows none, and you can't help but smile when you see the profile has nothing but a cherry emoji as the description.

you accept the follow request, and you follow them back. the whole day, every so often, you get a new video as a direct message. when you finish with the sourdough and leave it to rise, you start to scroll through the intermittent messages you've already gotten.

more cat videos. crazy dashcam footage with the comment "fuckin' mad." some woman who makes crockpot meals with every kind of bagged cheese you can get at the store on high for five hours.

you can't stop smiling. and when you pull out a pot to make dinner later, you and simon make eye contact before laughing.

"olright, baby, which one ya want?" simon murmurs, nuzzling his mask against your cheek. you giggle, looking up at the display. there's stuffed bears, big squishmallows, pillows. you reach a hand up behind you and caress the back of his neck, biting your lip until you point up at the big cherry squishmallow hanging by the top.

"gotta hit all the glasses to get that one, mate," the attendant says, and you look over your shoulder up at him.

"ooooo...not sure if you can hit all your targets, lieutenant riley?" you ask, and simon snorts, kissing your jaw through the mask before making his way towards the game counter. he picks up the toy rifle, adjusting it in his grip before holding the sight up and taking his stance. you bite your lip watching him. he looks incredibly sexy with that thing in his arms, even if its a fake. it's even sexier hearing the bell ring and watching your husband with terrifying precision knock every glass bottle down. one after the other, each glass falls, and you squeeze your legs together slightly as he goes for a bonus round and knocks them all over again, even quicker.

he turns around when he has your prize in his hands, a big fluffy cherry with a little smile and a little green leaf hat. you squeeze it to your chest before standing on your toes, and simon leans down to peck your lips through the mask. he wraps a big arm around your waist, and when you both pull back, you can't help your big smile, the laughter, that sweet, pretty shine in your eyes.

simon laughs, too.

it's easy when you're this happy.

[luveline]

Hey lovely !! <3 could we see Spencer’s bombshell! Reader going into labour at the BAU but trying to downplay it like Pam did on the office !! (So sorry if you’ve already done a request like this) <333 have a lovely day ☺️

thank you <3 pregnant!reader, 1.3k

“Spencer?” 

Spencer groans into his pillow. 

Your hand slips onto his stomach. “Spencer, can you wake up?” 

“No,” he mumbles, lifting his head off of one of the many pillows of your bed. He thought his bed at his apartment was comfortable, but Spencer has never slept so well as he does in your new bed, in your new home, with you warming the sheets beside him. What a miracle to live with you, the rush to get everything done before your due date complete. 

You make a strange noise, hard to see in the dark as he opens his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asks. 

You struggle into a sitting position. Angel, he thinks sympathetically, you’re fit to burst, your baby bump as big as it’s going to get and awfully heavy. He sits up with you, putting his hand behind your back. “Baby?” he prompts. 

“I think,” —you sound meek, not yourself, each word said reluctantly— “that I’m having real contractions.” 

Spencer’s head isn’t working. He takes a few seconds to hear you, and then another few to realise what you’ve said. “Are you sure?” 

“They’re really painful.” 

Braxton Hicks (which you’ve had, and not enjoyed) aren’t usually really painful. They’re also irregular. “How many have you had? Has it been long?” he asks. 

“Maybe five. They’re like…” You take his hand. “They’re like, they go on for ages. I’ve never felt anything like it.” 

“So you’re in labour,” he says, grasping your hand back. “Definitely. Let me get my watch, I need to time your contractions. Are you okay?” 

“Oh, no,” you say, shaking your head. “I’m not in labour. I’m going in to labour.”  

“It’s the same thing,” he says. He has boxes and boxes of mental knowledge explaining the difference, but he’s too excited to catch your strange tone. “I’ll be right back.” 

He races from the bed to the bathroom where he’d left his watch. You should be having contractions far apart at this point, around fifteen to twenty minute gaps, but it could be much further or far sooner, and Spencer doesn’t know when you had your last. He needs to time them properly so he knows when to take you to the hospital. 

“Good thing we packed your bag yesterday morning, huh?” he asks, sliding back into bed with a huge smile on his face. “And you showered last night, you’re ready to go. I have all our things in the trunk, but Morgan’s gonna have to come and do the car seat, I forgot all about it.” 

You shake your head again. 

He worries it’s from pain. “Is it starting?” 

“No, no, I’m not having any. I think it’s just cramps, actually.” 

“What?” He puts his hand on your bump. “That’s what they feel like, honey, it’s cramps, it’s your cervix contracting, it feels just like a cramp.” 

“No, I don’t think so.” 

Spencer cups your cheek, his fingertips sliding softly to the corner of your eye, his thumb by your nose. You look younger without any makeup on, younger still with your creeping frown. “Hey,” he says, his voice half breath, hoping you’ll look him in the eye, “hey, what’s going on?” 

Your eyebrows start to pinch down. “It’s not labour.” 

“Is something wrong?” 

“I’m not having her.” 

“She had to come out some time,” he says, attempting to be funny and lighten the mood. 

“I really think it’s fine. I’m just having those Braxton Hicks again, it’s too far from my due date–”

“Angel, it’s a week away. We knew it could happen now.” He strokes your cheek again. “We don’t have to go yet. Let me time a couple of your contractions and see what we’re working with.” 

“It’s not…” You duck your head. The catch of pain gets you, and Spencer checks his watch. Four minutes past four in the morning, the longest hand at five seconds. Then he looks for your hand again to hold in his, his own panic backseated by your denial. “They’re not that bad,” you say stiffly. 

“That’s good, honey, but they’re going to get worse. Remember what we said, huh? The pain will get really bad, but there’s nothing to be afraid of. We have a plan.” 

“It’s not real.” 

“Baby,” he says, tugging your hand imploringly to his chest, his voice having descended to a place it so rarely goes, “what are you scared of?” 

“That I can’t do it,” you say. 

“Is your contraction over?” he asks, noticing the laxening of your fingers. 

“Yeah.”

He’s silent for a few seconds. 

“Is there anything in the entire world that you can’t do?” 

You sniff. 

“Seriously. I can’t name a single thing you can’t do. This isn’t different. It’s going to be scary and painful, and it’s not something I want for you, not really, but you’re about to have a baby.” He rubs your thumb, ducking his head in the hopes that the movement will make you raise your own. “Our baby. We’ve waited such a long time.” 

“Nine months.” 

“Thirty nine weeks and two days. That's two hundred and seventy five days waiting. This is a good thing,” he says, meeting your eyes the moment you raise your head. “The waiting is over. This is the fun part.”

“‘Cos our girl is coming,” you say. 

He grins. “Exactly! I know you’re scared, but thinking you can’t do it? Of course you can. And I’m gonna be with you the whole time.” 

“You promise?”

“Of course I do.” 

You wipe your eyes with the backs of your hands. Spencer lets his palm fall onto your thigh. It really is going to hurt. It’s gonna be pain like you’ve never felt before, and he’s terrified of everything that could go wrong, but what’s important now is making sure you know you’re going to be alright. 

“You’re going to be a beautiful mom,” he says, rubbing your thigh, softer from time spent resting. “I’m so excited I can’t describe it. This time, the day after tomorrow, we could be here with her. We’ll be putting her down to sleep in the nursery in her newborn onesie we picked out, the–”

“Little rabbits,” you say, the hint of a smile on your lips. 

“I can’t wait to see her face.” 

“Her little fingers.” 

“Her nose, her eyes–”

“You said babies have their moms hands.” 

He smiles. “I have my mom’s. Can you imagine? And we get to find out today.” 

You let him touch your stomach. “I know what you’re doing.”

“You always do.” 

“I’m so scared.” 

“Sweetheart, let me be the scared one.” 

“You’re not gonna dilate ten centimetres!” 

“You’ve probably already done one,” he says. “Just nine more to go.” 

His joke doesn’t land. To his horror, you end up sniffling and locked up with panic. He rubs your back in long sweeps, feeling younger than ever kneeling in bed at your side, minutes droning on. He’s pulling your head into his neck thinking he’s completely out of your depth when you say, “It’s starting again, Spence.” 

He checks his watch. “That’s eleven minutes.” 

Your contractions will get worse soon, and closer together. You probably don’t have long until it starts, and labour might go on for hours. To do this, you're going to have to believe That you can. 

Spencer takes your face into his hands and looks you right in the eyes. “You can do this. I know you can.” He pecks you gently. “Angel, if anyone in the world can do this, it’s you.” 

You take a deep breath. He watches your nerves turn to determination, turn to love. “I know.” 

“Is there anything you need me to do before we start getting ready to leave?” 

You give a soft smile. “Kiss for luck?” 

He’s gonna need it. 

[lostalioth]

𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞

→ premise: forgetting your money for your dealer for the first time in a year sounds like a stroke of bad luck. only for you it seems quite the opposite.

→ pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, high sex (just eddies high), bribery/sex as payment? (I did intend to write it as actual bribery than idk what happened), nicknames [favorite customer, dirty girl, baby], drugs [mention, use, buying], unprotected sex, sex outside/in the woods

→ a/n: kinktober

Now technically you didn't actually need more weed, you had bought enough last time to last you the week. But god did you really badly wanna see your dealer. Eddie munson, everyone else called him a freak because of a game club he had and the way he dressed. But to you he was just so pretty you couldn’t help it, you wanted to see him again, and you didnt wanna wait til next week. In your haste and dazed state daydreaming about your pretty dealer while getting ready, you space out and forget the most important thing. Your stupid money. It was a rookie mistake that you hadn't made sense the very first time you bought from Eddie. You were so nervous that remembering to bring your money left your head. He was so sweet about it, a small smirk on his face as he handed it to you anyway. “It’s on the house, first time customer and all, hands down the prettiest too” he winked playfully at you and you think you've been smitten with him ever since.

You had found out later on, Eddie never gave anybody weed ‘on the house’ first time buying or not. You were still so lost in your head, excited to see him again that as you sat down at the meeting spot you had yet to realize you left your wallet on your dresser.

“There's my favorite customer” he beamed softly at you “I know I call you that but two deals in one week? That's a record for you” he chuckled lightly, his voice breaking you from your thoughts as he emerged from the woods. You smile coyly at him in embarrassment. Your thighs clench together slightly at the sight of him, he had ditched his usual hellfire t-shirt for a black hoodie, keeping his regular black jeans. His eyes lidded with a slight red hue around them, making you realize you probably interrupted him in the middle of his session. As he sits down at the rundown picnic table he sets his regular lunchbox on the table. The idea of him always keeping his drugs in an old metal lunch box was funny to you, and oddly adorable. But you’d probably find anything he did cute, it was getting harder and harder to hide the massive crush you had on him. The flirty banter back and forth between the two of you only intensifies it tenfold.

“Yeah I ran out a little faster than I thought I would” you cringe a bit at how easily the white lie slipped through your teeth. It felt oddly wrong lying to Eddie. He tilts his head in a way that makes you think he doesn't believe you. Before you can jump to your defense he’s opening the metal box and pulling out the lunch baggie of your regular order from him. You didn't notice the missing wallet until it came time to look for it after he had handed over the little baggie. You barely took a glance at it, tucking it in a pocket of the bag you brought that laid on the ground leaning on the leg of the table.

“Oh fuck…” you cruse under your breathe and start double checking all your pockets though you didnt have many with the outfit you had on. You even check the few the bag had. No wallet to be found.

”Left the money at home huh?” He questioned, cocking an eyebrow at your frantic searching of your clothes. In defeat after remembering it was last sitting on top of your dresser you sigh. “Yeah.. fuck im sorry Ed’s” you pout slightly, you were always good about remembering it. You’d even slip him cute, sometimes flirty little notes with the money for him to find when he’d get home. Back to being lost in your head you don't hear him getting up or coming around to sit next to you on your side of the table.

“You know…” his voice startled you slightly, both the new unfamiliar tone to it as well as its proximity. He was leaning in closer, your body slowly on its own turning in his direction aching to be even closer. ”You could pay me in another way..” his hand was now drifting to rub over and up your thigh, his eyes flickering down to your lips.

You were fine just giving the baggie back you had enough left from the last deal or quickly running home for the money. But understanding quickly what he’s implying, you decided that his payment plan was a more enjoyable idea. You’ve been dying to kiss him, to get even just a little further with him than all the teasing flirty looks and words. Realizing you haven't stopped him, he finally leans in fully, his free hand coming up to grab your chin pulling your mouth against his. The kiss sparking a fire in the pit of your stomach as his lips molded with yours. With a small mumble, the words lost in your lips Eddie pulls you even closer, hands falling to your hips to pull you off the wooden seat and onto his lap.

In the heat of the moment your hips seem to have a mind of their own, absentmindedly rocking against Eddies. He pulls away slowly, leaving you with parted lips and lidded eyes panting softly. You could feel him under you growing harder by the passing second, he wanted you just as badly. Eddie felt like his skin was on fire everywhere your bodies were touching, his hazy and cloudy head from his high causing his senses to be heightened. Your own head still full of your fantasies and daydreams from earlier that you were desperate for something more. Running your hands down his chest they land on his belt and waist band of his jeans.

“Need more Ed’s…” you whine, your pupils nearly just as dilated and blown as his, though for different reasons.

“Oh fuck it” he grunts and starts frantically undoing his belt buckle and the button to his jeans. Helping him along you lift your body off him, hovering still as you help him pull his pants halfway down his thighs.

You were smart enough to wear a skirt though this was the last thing you expected to happen. You just knew Eddie loved peaking at your ass as you walked away, so you always wore them when it was warm enough to meet up with him.

Pulling the bottom of his hoodie up a bit and pushing down his boxers after his jeans, he finally frees his cock and god it was just as pretty as you imagined. A happy trail leading down to it, the tip pink and leaking, a patch of black hair nestled at the base. Thoughts of moments like this fueled more than a few nights with your hands between your thighs. His hands return to your body, hiking your skirt up your hips he gawks at your soaked panties. “Look at my favorite customer being such a dirty girl, mighta thought you planned this all out if I didn't know any better” he groans, running his thumb through your slick folds, over your underwear. “Wore a tiny little skirt and the prettiest panties for me, and look at em’ all soaked and ruined already” he chuckled and leaned in closer, his forehead pressed to yours, eyes fixed on yours. “I've barely touched you baby” he coos and rubs small circles on your clit through the fabric.

“Need you Eddie, please~” you huff out and gasp in pleasure at the little amount of attention he was giving your throbbing bundle of nerves. His hands on your body were giving you a better high than any drugs you had ever bought off him before, and were far more addictive. “Tell me dirty girl, what exactly does my favorite customer need huh? I always aim to please” his voice has a sweet yet taunting edge to it, his thumb not stopping its teasing circles. His head shifts and his lips are ghosting over your own now. “Especially you…” he whispers as though it was a secret and there were other people around, though you both knew there wasn't anybody for miles in every direction.

“I need you inside me Ed’s, need ya’ to fuck me so bad please” you whine and plead against his mouth as you try leaning forward to feel his kiss again. You let out a sharp gasp before you even make it to press your lips to his again. While you were begging, Eddie had pulled your panties to the side and with a sharp thrust he pushed all the way in to the hilt.

“Holy fuck” he hissed through his teeth as your welcoming heat consumed his cock, your walls already squeezing around him. He sets his hands back up on your hips, trying to hold you still to give himself a second to calm down. It was pathetic but he knew he wasn’t gonna last that long, especially not with how long he's wanted this coupled with all his nerves on high alert from the weed in his system that wasn't wearing off any time soon. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you finally lean all the way forward and kiss him frantically and deeply. Hips rocking against his, the thick vein running along the side of his shaft dragging along your walls as your hips rise and drop. Teeth clashing together as you make out, tongues sliding around and fighting for dominance. Your one hand travels up threading your fingers through his mess of hair.

“Just like that baby” he groans in the kiss, fingers digging into your hips as he does his best to hold out. You already weren't all that far behind him, his cock throbbing and pulsing inside you tightening that knot in the pit of your stomach faster and faster.

Eddie pulls away from the kiss to catch his breath, his eyes squeezed shut as his head falls back when your hand comes down and nails scratch over his exposed lower stomach.

“Fuck why havent we been doin’ this every time you buy from me huh?, feel s’good” he grunts and thrusts his hips up to meet yours as you bounce down. Your ass bouncing off his thighs making an obscene and filthy slapping noise that drowns out the melodic sounds of nature. “Screw money baby, just want this pussy as payment instead. Want it all the time god~” he rambled off as you continued riding him, your hips moving fast and frenziedly chasing your high.

“Gonna- fuck im gonna cum Ed’s, baby shit” you let out a wanton moan when he starts abusing your clit with his thumb, rubbing circles like before though this time with no barrier. “Cum baby, cum on this dick dirty girl come on” he eggs you on as he speeds up his thumb making your legs shake slightly and the bouncing and rocking of your hips falter.

With a moan loud enough you swore you scared birds away, the knot in your stomach snaps and your climax crashes over you. Your cunt squeezes Eddie's cock and as he watches your body shake as you cum, his own climax hits him like a truck. Thick ropes of cum spilling deep inside you.

After a few moments pass, letting the two of you catch your breaths and your high’s wash over you. Eddie speaks up. “You know, I was only intending the different payment to be a kiss” he chuckles softly, his cheeks flushed. Your eyes snap up to his, your mouth agape. “I- well” you try speaking but he cuts you off with a belly laugh. “Baby it's all good, this was much better payment. Pay me like this from now on okay?” He lowered his voice again, the softness making your body turn to mush in his arms that he wraps around you.

“And uh hey could you pull the baggie i gave you out again, there's something you missed about it” he sounded nervous all of a sudden. You give him a questioning look before leaning over a bit and pulling it out of your bag that laid on the ground.

As you pulled it out you noticed writing that you hadn't before on it. The bag read ‘wanna go out on a date with me?” In Eddie's chicken scratch version of a handwriting.

A big smile spreads on your face and you look back up at him. “Well?” He questions, a nervous edge to his voice still, did he really think you'd say no? “Eddie, what do you think the answer is” you motion down with your eyes to where your bodies are still connected, his limp cock still buried inside you twitches a bit.

“So it's a yes?” He smiles softly and leans up ready to kiss you once again, he never wants to stop now that he gets to. You give him a nod and chuckle softly.

→ a/n: yes this is the cliché ‘you can pay me another way’ typa fic lol. i just really liked the idea, the name is also a play on quid pro quo if you didnt get that.

[rambling-at-midnight]

When the Truth Comes Out

Request: Reader asks, "So, when are you going to ask me to marry you?" I hope I did your prompt justice!

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: It’s been three and a half years since Jason asked you out, and he knows you’re the one. He knows every part of you, the good and bad, and loves it all. The problem is that you don’t know everything about him… and his secrets may ruin everything.

Word count: 3.5k

Jason’s never been one to window shop, but lately he’s been noticing the glint of jewelry.

You give him a weird look when he stumbles in the middle of the department store. It’s because a ring display caught him off guard like a punch to the gut, but he can’t explain that, so Jason waves off your concerned questioning.

You give him a weird look before turning back to the toy aisle. The two of you spent the morning bickering over what present to give Damian for Christmasukkah. You want to give him a keyboard to learn piano, but Jason’s sure that Damian would be happier receiving an art kit. He knows violin, which is a strings instrument, not whatever the piano is. Besides, the kid’s a brat. He’d want a full-size grand piano that originally belonged to Mozart or some shit and costs a hundred thousand dollars, which isn’t exactly pocket cash for the two of you.

And, sure, Jason’s got one of Bruce’s credit cards in his wallet—Bruce offered to give him one in Jason’s name, but it was the principle of using the stolen card, so Jason turned him down—but he’d be damned before he spoiled the kid any more than he already is.

He keeps his eyes firmly on you after that. It’s where they’re supposed to be, anyway.

You end up getting the keyboard after surreptitiously checking your bank account against your projected budget several times. It’s funny. After three years, you still think you can hide stuff like that from Jason. Probably because he pretends not to notice. He makes a mental note to stop by your landlord’s and see if the Red Hood can make any suggestions about lowering rent for your building.

As the two of you walk out of the store, a cold gust of wind tries to steal your breath away. You step closer to Jason, cold fingers twining with his, and he easily drapes an arm over your shoulders to keep you close. “Was that the last one?”

“I think so,” you reply, checking your list again. “The keyboard for Damian, massage gun for Dick, matching pajamas for Cass and Steph, Pokemon expansion pack for Duke, and the fuzzy socks for Tim.”

The socks are decorated with the words ‘I BREACHED CONTAINMENT’ in black stitching. Jason saw them in a tourist trap he saved from a D-list rogue and remembered how Tim looked like the bog monster after falling into the sewers the day before. They’ve been sitting in his closet since the end of August.

“I have too many siblings,” Jason sighs.

“Have you figured out what you’re giving Bruce?”

Jason bites his lip.

You say, “Ah. Well, you still have a couple days.”

Yeah. Jason has two. He’d been supposed to look out for anything to catch his eye in the store, but all he noticed was the stupid ring display.

He opens the car door for you, then shoves the keyboard in its box into the backseat and starts the engine. Jason drives home one-handed. The other holds yours loosely over the console. You’re checking your bank account again on your phone, frowning slightly, thumb brushing up and down Jason’s palm. He keeps an eye on you as he drives, playing idly by squeezing your fingers one by one until you have to try to hide a smile by looking out the window. 

He doesn’t let go of your third finger. Something nags at the back of his mind, like—

Jason realizes that he’s trying to find a ring, and his heart stops. The car jumps forward when he slams on the gas, and he drops your hand to put both of his on the wheel as he swerves around a minivan. You let out a startled yelp, hands flying out for something to grab onto. The stupid keyboard slides off the back seat and into the footwell.

Two cars lay on their horns when he nearly sideswipes them. Jason responds with an emphatic middle finger and cuts across three lanes to get away. The poor car doesn’t respond as well to his driving as his motorcycle does, and the engine whines as he leaves the other cars in the dust until he eases off.

As soon as the car reaches a relatively normal speed, you say, “Jay! What just happened?”

“Sorry,” is all he can say, keeping both arms stiff on the wheel. “Sorry, honey.”

“You okay?”

“‘M good. You good?”

“I’m okay, I was just…” You keep looking at him, and Jason’s skin prickles. Do you know? Can you tell?

Jason creaks like old wood, but he pulls back his right arm and puts his hand on the console, palm up. After a moment, you put your left overtop it. He can feel your pulse racing through the thin skin of your wrist.

He squeezes.

You squeeze back.

The day before Christmas, Jason still doesn’t know what to give Bruce. He’d hoped that baking would fix the block, but as he abuses the poor sopapilla dough, he’s no further to any answers.

You’re at the counter, offering moral support but not physical help. Jason’s a bit of a control freak in the kitchen when he’s anxious.

He’s not anxious. He’s not! It doesn’t matter if he gives Bruce something for Chrismukkah. Bruce doesn’t even celebrate Christmas. ‘Not trying to kill him’ is probably a good enough present.

Or the sopapillas. Sure, everyone’s bringing a dish, but no one said it couldn’t also be Jason’s present. But if he goes that route, then the pastries have to be perfect, and the last batch didn’t fluff up the way they did when Catherine made them.

“Jay,” you say after another five minutes of Jason punching dough that is already thoroughly kneaded.

“Yes, love?”

“I think the oil might be ready.”

Judging by the hiss and pops behind him, it is, and has been for several minutes.

Jason tries his best to follow his mother’s actions through his memory, but this batch doesn’t turn out right, either.

“Here,” he says wearily, placing the overflowing plate in front of you. “Let ‘em cool off.”

You wait as long as you can, fingers drumming on the counter as you watch tiny curls of steam drift up from the pile of pastries. Finally, you give in. “Oh my gosh,” you say around a mouthful that was a little too hot, judging by your wince. “Jay, these are amazing.”

“It’s not right, though,” he argues.

“Jay, I didn’t even think it was possible, but these are better than your last batch.”

He shakes his head stubbornly.

“Well, we’ll keep working on it,” you decide. “But really, if you bring these tomorrow, no one will complain. If they do…” You hold up a fist and shake it, mustering up (what you think is) a ferocious scowl.

Jason’s lips twitch. “What if Damian complains? Are you prepared to hit a child?”

“I can’t believe you would even ask me that,” you say. “I live in Gotham. I’ve been waiting for that moment my entire life.”

Despite himself, Jason laughs. He picks up one of the pastries from the dish and bites into it. They could have used more honey. Maybe that was the problem. But you’re right. These are good, and if they’re not, so what? It’s not like Bruce expects much from him anyway.

Jason’s chest squeezes.

Bruce should just be grateful that Jason is there at all.

Fuck.

It’s getting too hard to deny. Despite all his best efforts, Jason has to admit… maybe he does love his family.

It’s the first holiday season where he hasn’t been incandescent with rage toward one of them or another, and he’d underestimated just how nervous he would be. Despite everything that happened between them, he wants tomorrow to go well. The first night of Hanukkah is the same day as Christmas this year, which hasn’t happened for about twenty years. It’ll be Damian’s third Chrismukkah and the first where everyone is in attendance—Jason wasn’t on speaking terms with the family his first year, and Bruce was in the time stream and Tim was across the world last year.

“Hey, Jay.”

“Hmm.”

You swallow without making eye contact, and if he was paying even a little bit more attention, he would have known to prepare himself for what you said next.

“When are you gonna ask me to marry you?”

Jason is a selfish asshole. It’s a miracle that you haven’t figured that out yet after three years of dating him. He half-expects to come back to the apartment to find his stuff in bags. That’s the main reason he’s still out in the cold.

He’s in the middle of another drag when a teasing voice says from behind, “Ooh, must have been a rough day.”

Jason’s hand twitches for his gun, but he recognizes the voice. So he only rolls his eyes and says around the cigarette, “What do you want?”

“Your partner asked me to check up on you. Apparently you looked pretty freaked when you took off.”

Fuck. Jason groans. “How worried did they seem?”

“Ummm….”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, you kind of messed up.” Spoiler sits next to him, dangles her legs over the side of the roof, and lets them swing idly. “Or they messed up. I thought you quit smoking?”

He exhales a thick plume of smoke. “I did,” Jason says. Dying from smoke inhalation was bad once, but a habit is a habit.

“If it makes you feel any better, they seemed more concerned about you. Not, like, mad or anything.”

Well, that’s something.

“So what happened?”

Jason grunts. Maybe if he stares into the horizon long enough, Spoiler will give up. That was the technique Batman always used when Robin asked the tough questions like, ‘Why am I going home early so you can interrogate Catwoman on your own?’

It only worked sometimes.

Unfortunately, Spoiler seems immune.

Jason grunts and drops the butt of his cigarette. He itches for another, but you’ll already wrinkle up your nose at the smell of one. And, shit, what are you even going to think about him high-tailing it out after that question, leaving for hours, and coming back stinking of smoke?

“I’m a fucking idiot. And an asshole.”

Spoiler huffs. “Everyone already knows that, dumbass. They certainly do.”

“Thanks,” Jason says drily.

“Anytime!” she chirps.

Her heels beat against the side of the building.

She’s not leaving anytime soon, so Jason sighs and gives in. “They asked when I was planning on proposing.”

Spoiler gasps and jumps to her feet. “Oh my God!”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my God!”

“Yep.”

“So you’re engaged?”

“What? No.”

“What?”

“They asked when I would propose. That wasn’t a proposal… I don’t think so. I mean, there wasn’t a ring,” Jason says helplessly.

Spoiler socks him in the shoulder.

“Ow!” Damn, but the girl can pack a punch. He rubs at the sore spot, scowling.

“You stupid idiot!”

“I know.”

“And you just ran away?”

Jason cringes and admits to his lap, “Yes.”

Spoiler hits him in the exact same spot on his shoulder.

“Goddamn it, stop that!”

“I’m going to kill you, Jason Peter Todd.”

“You could certainly try, Stephanie… Brown,” he shoots back.

“You don’t even know my middle name?”

“I don’t care about you.”

She lifts her fist again, but Jason twists out of the way before she can hit him a third time in the same shoulder. It’ll be bruised tomorrow.

“You don’t get it,” he says, balancing on the edge of the roof and feeling exceptionally unstable, even though he’s walked across ledges like this since he was twelve.

“What don’t I get? That you have an awesome partner waiting for you at home? One that wants to get married? One that—”

“One that has no idea who I am,” Jason hisses. He brandishes his helmet at the girl. “We’ve been together for three years. They have no idea that I’m the Red Hood. It made sense, at first; I can’t go around telling everyone I kiss what my identity is—”

“Right,” she scoffs sarcastically, “like you’re some kind of serial kisser, Todd. Half the city would know your identity if you did that.”

“Shut up,” Jason half-says, half-groans, and by some miracle, she does. “At first, obviously I couldn’t tell them. Then I wanted to keep waiting. I wanted to know that they were, you know, the one and everything.”

Spoiler fake-gags. Jason ignores her.

“And after that it was just too late. I waited too long. I can’t marry them unless they know about the mask, but who would agree to marry someone that’s been lying to them for three years? The entire time they’ve known me?”

“Huh,” says Spoiler.

‘Huh’ indeed.

“So I ran,” Jason says. “I don’t even know if I said anything. The next thing I knew, I was in the street with a pack of cigs and a lighter in my pocket. I came up here to smoke a couple before going back and ending things.”

“You—wait, ‘ending things?’” Spoiler’s head whips around, the white lenses of her domino widening. “What are you talking about?”

“I can’t lie to them,” says Jason. “When I go back, I’ll tell them the truth. And they’ll break up with me for lying for years. I was just trying to put it off.”

The worst thing was, he wasn’t even trying to lie for most of it. You took his excuses easily, believed him about a boxing gym membership to explain away the bruises, and never uttered a complaint about the odd hours he worked. Every time he was late to a date or canceled, you understood. Every time he forgot something important, odds were that you’d forgotten, too, without him to remind you.

All things considered, Jason might have found the single least curious person in all of Gotham, if you hadn’t figured it out after three years. But he’d gotten so comfortable that he’d forgotten that it was a secret, really. It had all rushed back in when he heard your words like a smack to the face, and he’d panicked.

“You don’t know that,” Spoiler says softly.

“Could you forgive someone for something like this?”

She stays silent, and that’s answer enough.

Jason huffs. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He reaches into his pocket, pulls out the pack of cigarettes and lighter, and considers them. Then he sighs and drops both on the ground. “Might as well get this over with.”

The cold Gotham air whips away the reek of smoke by the time he’s back at your apartment. Jason looks at the door like a condemned man looks at the gallows. He could sneak in through the window like he usually does, but he selfishly wants you to open the door for him. Show that he’s welcome now, even though he won’t be for long.

Seconds drag on like torturous minutes until he hears the familiar click of the lock. The door inches open with a screech.

Jason’s mouth goes dry at the sight of your wide eyes. “Hey, darling.”

Wordlessly, you open the door further and step aside to let him in.

Funny how a place he’s practically lived in can feel so unfamiliar. Jason shifts between feet as you re-lock your door.

The moment you turn around, he blurts out, “I’m sorry.”

You say the same thing.

“What?” Jason asks.

“You don’t need to apologize,” you say.

“No, I was an ass,” he insists. “I shouldn’t have left.”

“I didn’t mean to push you. I just saw you looking at rings, and we’ve talked about it, but still, marriage is a big step, so I wanted to be prepared,” you ramble. “I mean, we said that we could get married, but we never discussed when, or when the proposal would be—”

“Honey!”

You fall silent.

“Just wait,” Jason begs. He can’t stand any more of your endless understanding. You’ve only ever understood him, no matter what, and he’s going to miss it so much. He’s going to miss you so much. “Wait one second.” He retreats to the bedroom and returns a moment later with something clutched behind his back. Your eyes dart to the awkward way he’s contorted his arm.

Your face goes blank when he pulls out the spare helmet he keeps below your bed. He’d only used a domino when out with Spoiler, but that wouldn’t do for the grand reveal.

“I’m the Red Hood,” he says in a rush, then braces for your judgment.

You don’t react except to say, “Jason.”

He doesn’t understand. You’re not scared of the killer in your apartment. You’re not furious at the man that’s lied to you for three years. Obviously you don’t understand what he’s saying. “Honey, I’m the Red Hood. The vigilante.”

“Jay—”

You’re still just standing with no reaction. Jason holds the mask up so you’re making eye contact with it.

You push it out of the way and cradle his face with both your hands. “Jason Peter Todd, look at me,” you command.

Jason holds your gaze. It’s the last time he’ll ever be so close to you, and he never wants to forget what your presence feels like.

“Jay, I’ve known basically the whole time.”

What.

Jason blinks.

“What?”

“I already knew.”

“Honey, I don’t think you understand what I’m saying. I’m the—”

“Red Hood, yes, I know.” You muster up a tremulous smile. “And Bruce is Batman. Dick is Nightwing. Steph is Spoiler, Damian is Robin, Tim is—”

“Oh my God, you knew? How did you know?”

“Jason. My love. My darling. My honey bunchkin.” You give him a mildly scolding look. “I’m not an idiot.”

Jason’s ears heat. “And you’re not… mad?”

“That you’re the Red Hood?” You cock your head. “Of course not. I worry about you, of course. But you have to do it. I know that. Or am I mad that you tried to keep it a secret for three years?” You press your lips together to hide a growing smile. “No. I’m not mad about that either. You can’t exactly go around telling your secret identity to everyone you kiss. It’s just something I had to figure out on my own.”

“You knew,” Jason marvels. “You knew this whole time.”

“Most of the whole time,” you say. “But yes.”

“Oh my God.” Jason’s moving before he can stop himself, and he wraps you up in his arms and spins you around. “I thought you would hate me,” he confesses, still clutching you like his life depends on it. “When I finally told you.”

A soft hand runs through his hair. “Is that why you ran?” you ask softly.

“Yes. I’m so sorry, honey, I just—”

“I get it,” you interrupt.

“You were scared.”

A thought occurs to Jason with such clarity he nearly drops you. “Wait, so you were going to marry me even after you knew about the mask?”

“Of course,” you say. “I love you, Jay. Mask and all.”

“I don’t have a ring.”

“I don’t need one. Don’t you get it? I only need you.”

“I only need you, too.”

“Good.”

“Good,” Jason agrees, and he probably looks like a fool with his wide grin, but you can’t stop smiling either. He dips his head, and you rise up to press your lips to his, even though with both your grins you end up clicking teeth.

“Good,” you repeat.

“Good,” Jason says, just for good measure, and this time he makes sure the kiss is better. Lightning shoots up his spine and he pulls back to ask, “Wait, are we engaged now?”

“Um… yes?”

“That’s awesome.”

Your smile is so wide that your eyes nearly close. Jason’s pretty sure he looks the same as he sweeps you up and spins you around. You fit perfectly into his arms. He’s never going to let you go.

“My fianceé,” he says fondly. “I’m never going to get tired of saying that.”

“I’m marrying you,” you marvel, sweeping your thumb over his mouth. “I have the prettiest husband-to-be in the whole world.”

“I love you,” Jason confesses. “So much.”

“I love you, too.”

Seconds before your mouths meet for another kiss, Jason’s phone buzzes. On the off-chance it’s an important alert, he pulls it out, but it’s just Spoiler asking for an update.

Jason stows the device. “I have an idea.”

“Yeah?”

“I think I know how to make the sopapillas the right way.”

“Oh? And how’s that?”

It turns out that Jason’s right.

Making them with your help turns out to be what was missing the whole time.

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[ahqkas]

hey goergous!! I've been BINGING your writing on the batboys and I absolutely love them!! Is there a chance you can do Costco runs with the batboys? Weird idea but I was just at Costco and was thinking about it hahaha!! Thank you!!! ❤️🦇

♯HEAVEN IS A PLACE ON EARTH WITH YOU ( the batboys accompanying you to costco ! )

— gn!reader, bruce & dick & jason ( separated ), i had to google what costco is so i hope i got it right !! fluff, this is so short i’m sorry 😣

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

. . . BRUCE WAYNE !

THE MERE IDEA OF BRUCE WAYNE IN SUCH A SHOP WAS AS SURREAL AS ENDEARING. it happened during a simple saturday morning, still when many people were busy sleeping in, when you got to the task at your hand: grocery shopping.

you glanced over at your company, noting how his well tailored black sweater and dark jeans contrasted with the whole place and its contents. his classy clothing looked so out of place among the sea of puffy jackets, hoodies, and sneakers. yet, as always, he didn’t seem to mind. he almost looked comfortable ( if you could call the expression on his face by that word ) by your side, but you had your suspicions it was only because he was with you.

he pushed the cart with one hand, his other resting warmly on your lower back as he guided you through the place like he knew exactly where to go. you’d begged him to come with you—not because you couldn’t do it alone, but because you were curious about him in such a place. the idea of bruce wayne, a billionaire who owned sprawling estates and could have groceries delivered with a snap of his finger, was far too good to pass on.

bruce picked up a bulk-sized box of protein granola bars and studied it like he was deciphering a riddle from the riddler himself. “do we eat these?”

you tilted your head towards him, eyes flickering between his handsome face and the bars in his hands. he managed to look good even under those fluorescent lights. “i eat them. you inhale them after your patrols.

a flicker of smirk danced on his lips while his free arm tightened around your waist, tossing the box into the cart with a nod of his head. “point taken, sweetheart.”

. . . DICK GRAYSON !

the idea to shop at costco was his.

it was funny to watch him move through the shop, one hand pushing the cart while he held your hand with the other. ( “costco? are you kidding? i love costco,” he’d said with excitement filling his voice, practically dragging you out the door before you could protest. ) . now, you were strolling through various aisles with your boyfriend. dick was dressed in his usual hoodie and jeans, although you knew he was hiding his suit under the casual clothes. his blue eyes sparkled whenever he discovered something that was ‘essential’ for your home.

“do we really need a 10 pound tub of peanut butter?”

“we do now.”

it was nice seeing him like this, doing normal things like shopping for once. he scanned the rows of fresh fruit like a normal guy instead of the acrobatic vigilante who swung through blüdhaven’s skyline every night. dick picked up a bag of green apples and tossed it into the cart. they’d bruise, no doubt. “do you approve of these?”

“i approve of anything that gets you to eat actual food instead of protein bars and instant noodles,” you pinched his biceps, feeling the muscle flex under your touch.

he swatted your hand away. “hey, i make a mean bowl of mac and cheese.”

“you mean you open a mean box of mac and cheese.”

dick shrugged with an ashamed smile on his face, hand reaching out and picking up a tub of pre-cut pineapple. “there. that’s balance right here. carbs and fruit. meal prep done.”

. . . JASON TODD !

THE TRUNK OF YOUR CAR GROANED UNDER THE WEIGHT OF WHAT FELT LIKE AN ENTIRE GROCERY STORE as jason hefted yet another bag onto his shoulder, the plastic handles straining under the bulk of sparkling water. his leather jacket creaked with the movement, and a few stray strands of his dark hair fell across his forehead as he turned to you with a playful look on his face.

“explain to me again,” he drawled out lowly, “why two people need this much stuff?”

you shrugged your shoulders and leaned casually against the car while sipping your iced coffee, looking far too pleased with yourself ( which you kinda were ). “because it’s costco, jay. you don’t go in for just a few things. you go in, black out, and come out with a year’s supply of paper towels and enough food to survive the apocalypse.”

your boyfriend huffed a laugh at that, shaking his head as he grabbed another bag, this one balanced with a carton of eggs and a bag of frozen chicken nuggets. “pretty sure you’re prepping for more than just the apocalypse. you’ve got enough granola bars in here to feed an entire boy scout troop.”

“don’t act like you’re not going to eat half of those on your next patrol.”

jason ate like he was the entire boy scout troop.

“fair point,” he admitted and you watched as his lips twitched into a smirk. jason had this way of making even the most normal activities feel like they were charged with a kind of electricity. the way he moved, the way he joked — it all carried that signature side of him.

[alchemistc]

Harry twirls a lock of dark curls between his fingers. Tips his chin against Tommy's head and stares up at the ceiling. He considers not asking, this time.

The sex is good, and Tommy's funny, and if he closes his eyes he could imagine there could be something - Tommy twitches and shifts his hand lower like he might be gearing up for another round, and it breaks the fantasy. That's new.

"Tell me about him," Harry says, and Tommy's eyes tip up to glare at Harry.

"Making an assumption, there," Tommy warns, but Harry just raises an eyebrow. Six years of this and Harry knows better than to expect Tommy would show up at his door for any reason other than to get his mind off of something - someone else.

"So we're both asses," Harry intones. He needs to call the super, see what they'll do about the water stain on his ceiling. "Tell me about him."

Tommy sighs. Twists, drifts away to the second pillow, and Harry's done this enough times not to mourn the loss, exactly. It's not like he's ever told Tommy -

"He's too young. Impulsive. New."

Harry fails to hold in his snort. "Okay."

Tommy at 34 had been a fucking hurricane. Newly out, no holds barred, he'd jumped right into the deep end and let the storm whirl him around. They'd been friends, for the first six months, Harry a watchful presence while Tommy made it his mission to be more than the guy in the dark corner getting a risky blowie fifteen minutes before last call. To be out - not loud, that wasn't Tommy's style - but to at least be himself.

He'd lasted two months in a real, actual relationship before he'd shown up at Harry's door with a six pack and a box of condoms.

"He looks at me and sees this - cool suave guy -" Harry shifts, nearly interrupts because that guy is exactly what Tommy projects, even if he doesn't mean to. Fucking Scorpios. "- and I was falling for him."

Yeah. Harry can extrapolate from that. Tommy fell ass over tea kettle and then got spooked.

"He's just so fucking open with himself. No brainworm goes untouched, and he can't hide his emotions for shit, and he's so goddamn stubborn and so goddamn ready to bulldoze through every hurdle ahead without looking back at the damage, and..." Tommy trails off. One hand shifts down to hitch the duvet up over his hips, and Harry adds the duvet cover to his list of laundry. "I gave him too many chances to slow down on his own."

"What, did the kid ask you to marry him or something?"

"He's the Himbo," Tommy retorts, and it takes Harry a moment to make the connection. He whistles through his teeth just to watch the scowl fall into place on Tommy's face. "And the connection freaked him out so much he asked me to move in. To his bachelor pad loft." Harry waits. "It has two balconies, Harry. Two."

"...he knows you have a mortgage, right?"

Tommy shoves at his shoulder. "It doesn't matter. We're just - the timing wasn't right."

"Did you want it to be?"

That's always the thing he ends up hung up on, in Harry's experience. Tommy's scared out of his mind to be the right person at the wrong time. Always has been. There's probably some mommy or daddy issues hidden in there somewhere he hasn't explored. Tommy's eyes drift up to the water stain. "Don't these apartments all have the same layout?"

This is the shove-off. This is his hint not to push. "Yes, and I really don't want to ask how the upstairs neighbor flooded their bedroom. Back to the guy." He's never been one for acknowledging unspoken cues.

"Buck," Tommy says, and the name sounds harsh in his mouth.

"Buck," Harry repeats, and pictures Tommy's usual type - tall, light-eyed, more smiles than common sense. There was always something distinctive, too - freckles, a scar, weird shaped ears.

"I miss him."

It doesn't hurt the way it had those first few years, when Harry was convinced that eventually Tommy would see him as more than a friend to blow off steam with. Still. There's a twinge there, beneath his rib cage.

"So stop missing him. That's an option, isn't it?"

And Tommy does that thing - that frustrating, enchanting thing, where his whole body seems to hold the emotion flickering across his face. "I walked out on him. I dug the damn knife in just to make sure he wouldn't try to convince me to stay."

"Would you have? Stayed?"

Tommy's quiet. The sweat has cooled on his skin, and the lights coming in through his window dance across the skin of his shoulder, his chest, that stupid thick neck of his.

The phone he left on the bedside table is dark, but that doesn't stop Tommy's gaze flicking to it.

"Cards on the table, Tommy?" Harry sucks in a breath. Blows it out through his nose. "Once upon a time, I convinced myself you were it for me. That I'd be satisfied with what you gave me, and I wouldn't ask for more. I cut you out of my life for eight months when I realized how fucking dumb that was."

Tommy frowns. Harry hadn't really ever expected him to notice.

"I've seen you through shitty relationships, and one sided ones. I've heard all the bullshit you and Greg put each other through. I've been there for every fucking heartache."

And he'd offered up his body like it was absolution for always being fucking thrilled when a relationship ended.

"You called me Evan," Harry murmurs, and Tommy's eyes go wide. That's never fucking happened before. This thing wouldn't have lasted nearly as long if he'd ever heard another man's name in his bed before. "You should shower. Go home. Take a day or two, if you need it. But I know for a fact you wait this shit out, justify coming to me with time and space from whatever guy has you strung out. I know it's been a minute already, and I know you've never sounded so unsure about cutting someone loose."

Tommy's gaze flicks to him.

"Whatever it is that's got you so scared of this guy, figure it the fuck out. Because it sounds to me like you fell fast and hard and hit a fucking wall before you ever thought to tap the brakes. That's not fair to you or him. Call him. Text him. Show up at his door with a bouquet or an industrial size bottle of lube and figure your shit out. Together."

Tommy stares at him for a long, long time in silence.

"Them's the brakes, huh?"

Harry hates that he knows exactly what Tommy means. Still, he clarifies. "This is your forever guy." Six years of watching him flail and learn and grow and hurt and love and fuck. He knows a thing or two about Tommy and his flights of romance. Knows this lonely man has never sounded quite so lonely before. "You don't need me, anymore."

He's quiet as his eyes drift back up to the stain. "I'm not his forever guy." Harry can't actually refute that, considering he's never met the guy. But he knows Tommy. Knows exactly how captivating he can be. Knows Tommy's a sucker for that starry-eyed look that so often has meant not love, as Tommy reads it, but idolization. "What if I'm not his forever guy?"

Harry digs toes into the spot in the duvet where Tommy's knees should be. He shifts Tommy about half a millimeter. "He has a nickname you don't call him except when you're punishing yourself. He dated Abby and that shared history didn't scare him off. You'd never let yourself fall for a guy that wasn't throwing clear signs that it was serious. I'd put my odds on him doing something weird and wholesome every time he thinks about you until his entire two balcony loft is filled with trinkets or treats and he still can't get you off his mind."

Harry's never seen Tommy's face do that before. Not in the throes of a honeymoon phase and not in the worst of a bad breakup. It's some awful mixture between unbridled hope and abject despair.

Harry thinks it's probably fair to hate him a little, for that face. He's earned the right.

"If he kicks you to the curb, I'll take you to one of those expensive wine tastings you pretend to hate, and I'll let you drink all my samples too." It's not an idle promise. Tommy may pretend to hate it but Harry fucking loves wine tastings. "If he doesn't..." Harry shoots him a fond look, "...knowing your type I'm not invited to the wedding anyway, so I guess then I'd been seeing you around."

Something shadows his gaze for a moment, but he's quick to hide it, to smack Harry on the chest like they've just had a good game, to shift out of bed and into his briefs before Harry can blink. He doesn't love Tommy. Not the way he'd have liked to, years and years ago. Still, when Tommy shoots him the dorkiest finger guns known to man and scoops up the rest of his clothes to take to the bathroom with him, Harry still wonders what it's like to have him enough to love him fully.

---

The name catches him off guard every time he hears it. 'Evan' isn't hard to filter - Evan had been a popular enough name to immediately write it off but Buck wasn't white noise of a name

Buck was a character in a movie, an old grizzled war vet, a dog. The name Buck wasn't popular enough not to hear it every time it was so much as whispered in his direction.

The coffee shop isn't crowded, but it's not dead either. When the girl at the counter calls out an order for Buck, sliding three cups down the counter, Harry can't help but look up.

A tall broad shouldered hulk of a man smiles a dimpled smile at the barista, and Harry watches him palm two cups and grab the third one in one practiced move. He's cute, Harry thinks. Maybe his grandpa ordered, Harry thinks, a little harder, and then caves, following his path through the three-tops littering the lobby.

Harry catches sight of him without being noticed. He's grinning, one of those rare earnest ones that make his ears rise and his face crinkle like a Shar Pei, hand spread out over something lying open on the table. The little girl on the seat to his right is a surprise, but Harry hasn't spoken to Tommy in two years. Maybe he's had enough time to get his mind around the idea that he's nothing like his father. The girl responds to something Tommy says by palming at as much of his face as she can reach and turning to the man now approaching their table.

"Uncle Buck!" he catches, another firm tug at the part of his brain that's been stuck on this for too long. The man barely gets all three drinks on the table before the girl is launching herself up into his arms, and it's too late for Harry to turn away without notice. Tommy's gaze shifts across the room and lands right on him.

He looks like he might wave Harry over, and Harry would rather die than know whether Tommy would introduce him as an old friend, or by name like Buck should know it. He tips a smile Tommy's way. Raises a brow at the man - Buck - and gets lips being sucked behind teeth in response, and then a slow, subtle head tilt.

Good. Good for him. Harry's never wanted anything for Tommy but to see him incandescently happy.

Witnessing it from a distance is better.

Buck twirls his - niece? - flops her back down on the bench seat next to Tommy and bends to say something that includes a pinky promise. He's got a wine-dark stain just above his brow, and Harry can't quite hide the tip of his smile.

Harry's name rings in his ears as he picks up his drink, and he's halfway to the door, feeling proud of himself for not turning back, when he hears the chorus of three laughs erupting from the corner where he'd taken his last good look.

He'd seen the ring on insta, a week and a half ago. Just an uncaptioned picture of two bands balanced one over the other on a rock, a killer sunset sky blurry behind them. No tags. 102 likes and counting.

Harry pushes through the doors and only glances through the window to watch Tommy tip his head back in laughter for a second, before he's cleared the coffee shop and rounded the corner back to his office.

[airybcby]

you left your typewriter at my apartment

( sae itoshi x fem! reader )

♡ a/n — woke up and was thinking of this song so yk i had to write. not proofread !!

♡ content — all characters 18+ !!, fem! reader, nsfw description but no actual smut, angst, goes back and forth between current time to memories, established relationship (1 year), spoilers for the U-20 game, nicknames like 'love' and 'doll' used, some cussing, girlboss reader tbh, probably ooc sae, lmk if i missed anything!

♡ synopsis — packing had never been a big deal to you, but when you're putting all of your exes stuff in a box to give to him? all the memories come back to you and you're not sure you can handle it.

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' and who's gonna hold you like me ? ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

sae itoshi was many things.

the best midfielder of current soccer history, an icy older brother, stoic, and downright vicious on the soccer field.

but what sae itoshi was not?

a relationship man.

looking back on it, you should've realized the signs earlier, but how could you when those teal eyes washed away every worry you had?

your belief that sae would be the man you'd marry led you to this moment right now; sweating as you scoured your house to rid it of anything even related to the itoshi name.

you'd already had quite a few items in the box you were curating his belongings in, seeing as you'd gone through every room in your house besides your bedroom. you knew your room held all the memories, worst for last you assumed. for the short year that you and sae were together, he enveloped every part of your life.

you bent down to see under your bed, phone flashlight shining on the parts that the sunlight didn't reach. you sighed as you grabbed a pair of his cleats that he brought over after his game against the bluelock 11 team.

" sae? why didn't you change? " you asked, looking at his form standing in your bed room door frame. you looked over at your phone, the time reading 11:00 at night.

your boyfriend of five months had played his game against the bluelock team, and to the dismay of him and many others in the world — they lost. " four fucking three... " sae breathed out. you knew this game meant more to him than he was willing to admit. everytime you asked , though, you always got the same answer.

" they asked me to play. i'm gonna play. " as if this wouldn't be his first time seeing his brother in years. as if the japan soccer league didn't have high stakes on him winning.

what else could you say? you watched the game, you saw how hard he worked. even if no one else could tell, you knew this defeat stung more than he was willing to admit.

" 'm gonna go shower. " he said to what seemed like no one, even if you were in the room. " want me to come with you? i can—"

" i'd rather shower alone. " sae scoffed out, throwing his cleats in the general direction of your bed, where he usually kept his shoes.

you didn't mind, it was a hard night.

so you let him walk down the hallway to your bathroom, his cleats sitting there abandoned.

you didn't even question why he left instead of spending the night.

rough night. that was all.

the memory flooded into your head before you could stop it. now you realized how stupid you were, even then sae couldn't be bothered to even lay in the bed you'd been waiting for him in.

he couldn't be bothered to take his cleats from under your bed, instead opting to buy new ones.

the thought was funny now, how someone so young could have the money to throw away every time he wanted something. while you kept the damn cleats in a safe space for seven more months, like the idiot you were.

you threw the shoes in the box, moving onto your dresser next. he had his own drawer at your house, a sign he was always welcome. although, he did make sure to take most of those when he broke up with you, but you wanted to double check.

you couldn't clear your home of itoshi sae fast enough.

you pulled open the drawer, staring at the clavin klein boxers that sat so perfectly in the quite empty drawer. almost as if they were mocking you.

you grabbed them quickly, squeezing them in your hand before catching the scent of his laundry detergent.

" wanna take 'em off, love? " he'd asked you, staring up at you as he laid on your bed, clad in nothing but his tight boxers. this was the first time sae had let you be the one on top, his usually demanding presence now one that was completely and utterly yours.

" but you look so good in them, it's not fair. " you sighed, straddling his lap as you messed with the elastic of the waistband.

if anyone were to see the two of you, they wouldn't feel lust— they'd feel nothing but love.

" you're taking too long. " he sighed, easily flipping the positions you'd been in. you now under him as you stared up at him, his teal eyes swimming with raw emotion.

" hey! you said—" " i'll make it up to you, doll. promise. " and that was the last thing you heard before he disappeared between your legs.

you remembered that night well, the promises made...ones of a future— a future of children and marriage and him showing you off like his prize trophy.

yeah right. he couldn't even be bothered to attend the balls held in honor of his team, let alone get you all dolled up and go with you.

maybe you should cut a hole in the crotch, you'd thought. show him he's no better than any other man, you could still be the ex that ruined his stuff to get back at him.

but what did it matter when he could simply buy more to replace it?

nothing could be simple when it came to itoshi sae. not even when your broken up.

you stuffed the boxers under some more stuff before moving to lay on your bed.

you'd already looked through every spot in your room you thought he'd left pieces of himself behind in.

the closet, the dresser, under the bed...what else was there?

you set the box down beside you, rolling over on your side to stare at yourself in the full length mirror that was on the adjacent wall. you looked like a mess.

you caught yourself wondering what sae was doing. was he the same old sae? was he laying in his bed thinking about you? did he look as much of a mess as you did?

you doubted it.

within your daze, your eyes moved toward a polaroid picture you'd stuck in the frame of the mirror, a picture of you and sae at a halloween party just a month ago.

you were excited, like...really excited. this was the first time sae was going to bring you out to hang out with his friends. in the 11 months you two were together, you usually went on private dates to fancy restaurants when he could spend time with you.

you'd never been to an actual party with him though!

you smiled as you sat on sae's lap on shidou's couch, the rather vulgar soccer player convinced sae to not only come to the party, but also bring you. " i've never met the girl before ! why not introduce her to us? "

" you're so boring, sae! you're supposed to be my angel! " you whined to him. " i dressed up enough, love. " your boyfriend said quite monotonously. bull crap, he was just in a white tee shirt and pants, nothing that he had to actually go out and buy.

while the red corset and miniskirt you had dyed yourself made you feel like if you breathed wrong it would all come bursting at the seams.

" you could have at least tried harder. " you offered, maybe with a bit of attitude. the two of you had been having more arguments than usual, but doesn't every relationship hit rough patches? " you're lucky we even came— " " yo sae! get with your girl and smile! " shidou popped up in front of the two of you with a polaroid camera.

so you two shut your mouths as sae's hand slipped over your waist, your head finding his shoulder, and you mustered the cutest smile you could.

...while sae gave a blank face to the camera.

looking back on it, that night was the downfall of your relationship. after that night, sae stopped coming by as much, but you just assumed he got busy with soccer season.

the next time he came by he grabbed everything of his and walked out.

you didn't know what to do. sae said he was going to come by, but you didn't know that meant he'd be taking all of his things out of your house.

" sae, wait! what's wrong baby? did i do something? " you asked an embarrassing amount of times.

" no. just taking my stuff. " he said, not even bothering to look at you.

last week was your one year, but he had a game. you'd gotten in a little fight over him not even bothering to text you a happy anniversary, but surely that wasn't what led to this?

" if it's about the anniversary, i'm sorry! i know you're busy, and i don't care when we celebrate ! " you gasped out, trying to cling to any reason for why he'd be doing this.

" we're not celebrating at all. " he slammed the dresser drawer shut, the only indicator that he was annoyed by you. when sae turned around to face you, " we're done y/n. "

he said it so simply, so clearly that you couldn't even move to stop him from leaving out the door.

the look in his eyes...that wasn't your sae.

that was over a week ago now, and the memory made you want to cry. you wouldn't, tears were made to be shed on people who care about you, not foolish men who couldn't talk about their feelings.

you got up from your bed, walking over to the wall and taking the polaroid off your mirror before taking it to the box.

you stared at the picture, the love in your eyes is something that would haunt you for a lifetime. it could haunt sae too.

you threw it in the box, picking it up before setting it outside your front door.

you pulled out your phone, clicking on the contact, ' s. itoshi ' and typing a message

you: the rest of your stuff is outside when you wanna come get it.

for a year, sae itoshi enveloped every aspect of your life.

you refused to let him consume you even after he was gone.

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' and who's gonna know you, if not me ? ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

i really wanted to try writing for sae, so i hope yall liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[steddieas-shegoes]

At ten years old, Eddie’s mama gets a raise at work just in time for Christmas. This is the same year Wayne works enough to set aside almost $200 for Eddie’s Christmas presents.

Eddie doesn’t know this, and he’s a kid who knows better than to expect more than a few things in his stocking and one or two “bigger gifts” -usually books or tapes- so it’s a surprise when his stocking is overflowing and there’s a huge box under the tree Christmas morning.

Even more surprising is that it’s labeled from Santa, and Eddie hasn’t believed in Santa for nearly three years despite everyone in his classes still believing. He bounces on his feet while he waits for Wayne to get his coffee, for his mama to finish making their special hot chocolate.

The year he gets his first guitar is also the year he finds out his mama can sing like a rock star.

It’s the year he finds out Wayne used to play bluegrass at a bar back home and probably could’ve made it big if he was willing to leave his sister.

It’s the year Eddie finds out he can play by ear and uses it to his advantage to learn all his favorite songs as soon as he figures out the chords.

And for years, he is quick to pull out his acoustic to learn something new, even when he manages to buy his electric with money from helping fix cars at the shop where his uncle’s friend works.

After he saves Hawkins, and his hands stop shaking enough for him to play, he asks Steve to bring his acoustic to the hospital so he can entertain himself. Steve shares a look with Wayne, then his mama.

“It, uh, didn’t survive…everything.”

Nothing broke his heart quite like hearing that.

He pretends it’s okay though, doesn’t want his mama and Wayne to feel worse than they already did about everything.

He tables his emotions until he’s alone that night, shortly after dinner when everyone goes home to get some rest before the next day of volunteering, and cleaning, and visiting.

He’s woken up in the middle of the night by the door opening, and even though the person coming in is trying to be quiet, the door creaks from the building settling funny during the “earthquake.”

“Steve?”

Steve turns and even in the dark, Eddie can see his blush.

He’s holding something.

Something big and guitar shaped.

“What have you done?”

Steve walks over to him and gently sets the guitar case in his lap.

Eddie opens it and sees a gently used acoustic with Eddie’s name now engraved on the side.

“Steve.”

“You can have nice things. You should have nice things. We don’t have many options right now, but at least you won’t get rusty.”

Eddie cried.

Steve held him.

And after Steve wiped his tears away and kissed his forehead—which was something they’d be talking about as soon as Eddie could focus on something other than the guitar in his lap— he played slower songs, songs that even Steve could recognize, until a nurse realized Steve was here past visiting hours and kicked him out.

When his mama saw it the next morning propped by his bed, she smiled knowingly.

“I see the boy followed through.”

“What?”

“He asked me all kinds of questions about guitars and what your old one looked like and if a used one would be okay. Don’t know how he found one so quick.”

“He’s pretty determined when he sets his mind to something.”

“I think he’s set his mind on you, baby.”

Eddie thought maybe she was right.

[veethefreeelf]

How many chances are too many chances? Y.JH

This is part 2 to ‘How many times does it take to get smarter?’ Get ready for a rollercoaster of emotions and I’M SORRY ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅ

Summary: 

It’s been 6 months since the night you and Jeonghan went your separate ways. You’re sure he has moved on and you… are working on moving on. Nothing can go wrong, right?

Wordcount: 14k (SORRY)

Warnings: pussy slapping, some spanking, slut is used a lot, oral f. receiving (face-sitting), vaginal penetration - unprotected sex, Jeonghan is hot and bossy - dom af, cream-pie, slight dumbification 

Requested: yes, by popular demand 

P.S - Italic is for thoughts mainly from the characters’ perspective and quotes. Bold is for text messages/calls/voice messages between characters

It’s been 6 months since you had seen each other. Since you told him everything you had been holding back for years and he walked away from you. He walked away from your friendship as if everything you two had shared over the years had been meaningless. As if you were replaceable.

You were doing okay. In the first few weeks you had cried yourself to sleep. You even destroyed all the pictures you had with him like a teenager in a movie. But eventually, it started getting easier. Waking up and not getting a single text from him or call during the day got easier. You started getting used to the silence.

You had also put the pictures you ripped apart back together. Very clumsily but you tried. You loved some of those pictures and they contained some of your very favorite memories with him and all the boys. You couldn’t get rid of it. You couldn’t also look at them so after you fixed them, you decided they would now live in a permanent corner in your closet in a box and hopefully, one day, you’ll be able to look at them again and smile.

In these 6 months, things have been going well with everything else in your life. You got a promotion. You and your family had been closer than ever and you had great friends who had helped you put everything behind you. Well… most of your friends.

Some of them, like the one calling you right now, wanted nothing more but for the both of you ‘to stop being fucking idiots and be together’. It’s been a struggle balancing seeing the boys and not seeing Jeonghan. You had mostly skipped all of your usual gatherings because you knew he would be there. You knew you would be the one losing the boys. They had been friends for far longer than you had been in their lives, so when a falling out like this happens, of course, you would be the one that would walk away.

This however, has made all the boys very annoyed. They have all called you at some point to tell you they were angry at you and wanted you back with them. ‘It isn’t fair’ they kept telling you.

You agree. Nothing about this is fair. It’s sad. For everyone. Everyone lost something, somehow and you blame yourself for it.

You should answer the phone though, otherwise, the boy known as your twin would cause absolute mayhem in all of your lives. He has already threatened you about it enough times for you to know he would do it without hesitation.

“Hello, Kwannie. Calling in the middle of the day is not very on brand for you. You good?” you asked.

“I’m amazing. I am calling you in the middle of the day because you have decided to ignore Soonyoung and he is now pouting and making my life hell. I have many questions. Number one: How dare you?” Seungkwan is the first one they use when they want something from you. Fair enough. Not even you want to deal with the anger of your friend.

“Kwannie… Now, now… That’s no way to speak to me even if you are using Office quotes which I very much appreciate” you said with a teasing tone.

“Haha very funny, Y/N. You have been hilarious in the past 6 months, you know that? Amazing. And as much as I would LOVE for you to continue being this way, I am the one that has to deal with the consequences of you ghosting all of us” he stated in an incredibly monotonous tone. You know what’s coming next and it’s mostly why you have avoided them all.

“Seungkwan, I haven’t ghosted any of you. I’m busy, you know that… That’s all…” you said in your best apologetic tone.

He laughed dryly and added: “You can’t be serious. I know you’re busy, promotion and all. But you also know after everything that happened, communication between us and you has been extremely difficult. You barely show up to any of our usual outings, you don’t speak in the group chat. Look… I get it, I do. But we shouldn’t all be punished because one of us is a complete idiot, and I know you know that too”.

You knew he was right, they didn’t deserve any of it. It wasn’t their fault. But how can you just show up to things with Jeonghan there? How can you join in the group chat with everyone while you know you have his number blocked and deleted everything related to him on your phone? 

You had done a pretty good job moving on in every other part of your life. But not here, not with the boys. You didn’t know how. You hadn’t found that balance yet and you weren’t sure you were ready to see him yet. Or at all.

“Your silence is deafening, Y/N” Seungkwan spoke on the other side of the line.

“I’m sorry… You know I am but… I’m not ready, Seungkwan. And to be honest, I’m not sure I ever will be” you said sadly.

“Hey… We’re your friends too, you know? Don’t push us away, please. Not anymore. That’s all we’re asking. Well… Soonyoung is also asking for you to come to his party this Saturday. The guys’ performance team was picked to go to the international competition and he wants you there to celebrate. We all do”.

Seungkwan always knew what to say to get you to cave. It was why everyone called you twins, you always knew what to say to get the other one to do whatever you wanted, no matter what. 

“They made it? That’s fucking amazing. Tell them--”

“Tell them yourself, Y/N. Saturday. Soonyoung’s place. 8:30. Not gonna lie to you. He’ll be there. But you don’t have to interact with him. It will be a big party and I won’t leave your side. Promise.” he interrupted you but you get it.

You’re not sure if you should go. This doesn’t sound like a good idea at all. But you miss them. All of them. Hanging out like before, playing beer pong, letting Seungkwan destroy everyone at Karaoke…

“And this has nothing to do with your personal interest in beating Shua and Vernon at beer pong, Boo Seungkwan?” you asked to lighten the mood a bit.

“Well… If your falling out with Jeonghan gives me the opportunity to pair up with you after all these years, finally, and destroy them… I call that an added bonus!” he said jokingly.

“Is there a theme? Hoshi always has a theme…” you asked.

“College. Yes, I know… Don’t ask. He said college and everyone went with it” he said with a distaste but you know he loves Hoshi more than he would like to admit. Even if he swore to keep calling him Soonyoung out of spite.

“And, if I go, which by the way, I am not saying that I will… You won’t leave my side? The whole night?” you asked and he reassured you right away.

“Of course. I promise. He won’t have a chance to talk to you, I’ll keep him away. I would also volunteer to take your phone but we both know you have him blocked so that’s not going to be necessary”. 

Weird. You haven’t told anyone you blocked Jeonghan. I mean, it’s an easy assumption to make but he seemed confident when he said it. You wondered how he knew.

After you promised you would think about it and heard Hoshi cheering in the background, you talked a bit more about your lives and what has been going on and you hung up after a while of catching up.

You spent the rest of your Sunday thinking about this. You know Seungkwan will keep his promise and you know this isn’t a trap but… you’re not ready to see him.

You don’t know if you’ll be strong enough not to speak to him. Sure, you haven’t spoken to him in the last 6 months but you have thought about unblocking him multiple times. Maybe going to this party is not the best idea.

Friday night comes at you fast. You were so busy the whole week that the week flew by and you are now panicking about tomorrow. You hadn’t thought about this party most of the week, you hadn’t had time and here you were. In front of your closet, trying to pick clothes that say ‘college’ apparently and wondering if you should even go at all.

You know if you called any one of them right now and told them you weren’t going, they would collectively be mad at you and even plot to get you there somehow.

It’s too late to back out. You’re going tomorrow. And… you’ll be fine. Seungkwan will be with you and you will hang out with the boys and you will ignore him. 

You started laughing out loud. Ignore him? Please, you want to think you are so important in his life but if you were, he wouldn’t have left you the way he did. He probably doesn’t care that you’re going. Why would he even want to speak with you? Leaving was his choice. 

After 30 minutes of hurting yourself and staring at your closet, you start getting several messages from all the boys. You knew it. They weren’t going to let you out of this one and they had decided to collectively torture you. Using Shua and Vernon’s emotional blackmail was a bit much but you knew they were throwing everything at you to make sure you were going.

You pulled out your regular college outfit and set it in your chair next to your bed, made yourself some warm tea and went to the couch to binge a show. ‘Hopefully the tea and the show will make me fall asleep’ you thought.

You were wrong. You barely slept. You kept moving around in bed, trying to fall asleep. Heart beating out of your chest. You don’t know how you’ll survive this.

You decided to keep busy the whole day. It had worked during the week so you went to visit your sister and see your nephew. He would keep you occupied. He had brought a light into your life you didn’t know could be there and you know he will always keep you entertained and you will do the same for him.

This had all gone well until your sister tells you they have a birthday party to attend at 4:30 so you’d have to leave pretty soon.

Great. Of course. 

As soon as you got home, you got a FaceTime call from Lily. 

Lily was your best friend since middle school. You had been through everything together and you were as close as sisters. You had introduced her to the boys shortly after you had met them and she fit right in. Not only that but she fell in love. She and Seungcheol have been together since they met. ‘Love at first sight’ they both said. You had always been jealous of that. It had always been so easy for them. Meeting, falling in love, growing together. You were also unbelievably happy for them, especially Lily. She deserved the world.

“Let me guess… Outfit check?” you asked after answering the call.

“Duh! Let me see what you chose! We could match tonight. It’s been such a long time since we wore matching outfits, Y/N! Since college actually, which is the theme. Do you see how perfect this is???” she asked excitedly.

“There’s a reason why we haven’t done that since college, Lil” you laughed. 

“Oh come on! It would be hilarious!” she tried to convince you.

“Seungcheol left you high and dry, huh? So now you come to me for a matching outfit? Your second choice, really? Hmm… Not very convincing, I must say” you started teasing her.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you are both boring…” she said pouting.

“Look, I already picked it out. You’re not gonna like it, so Seungcheol is probably your best option between the two of us” you laughed as you warned her.

You knew her taste, she had always been way braver than you when it came to outfits for parties and, only on special occasions, did you let her win and change your whole outfit. This is definitely not one of those times. She knew that too.

“Fine. Don’t need either of you. See you there. Will be mad” she said and hung up on you.

You knew the game, she’ll pretend to be angry but by the time the party starts and you’re there she has already forgotten and all the love comes back immediately.

It was still fairly early. 5PM. You had 3 and a half hours to kill. You were tired. You had barely slept. ‘A nap it is’ you thought.

It sounded like a great idea and it felt like a great idea until you woke up and realized you had forgotten to set your alarm. It was now 9PM and your phone was blowing up.

Everyone was pissed. Damage control. Call Hoshi. He seemed the angriest from all the texts and missed calls you had. You explained it to him and told him you will be there. He sounded skeptical but he finally let you off the phone to get ready.

You had gotten ready in record time and managed to get to the party before 10PM. 

As soon as you walked in, you felt at home. You missed this. So much. Too much.

You hear several screams and noise and you know you've been spotted.Seungkwan and Hoshi rush over to you being the loudest people in the room as usual.

“You boys sure know how to make a girl feel welcome” you tell them with a big smile.

“Took you long enough. The beer pong tournament will start soon. Start drinking, warm-up. Come on, Y/L/N. This is THE YEAR” Seungkwan tells you.

“Quiet, Seungkwan. This is the outfit you chose, really?” Hoshi looks you up and down.

“How dare you? I spent most of my college years in this sporty outfit. I look amazing, thank you very much” you stated and squinted your eyes at him.

“You also didn’t get laid often in college did you, Y/N?” he asked cockily.

“Well, not all of us can be the slut of the campus, Hoshi. You earned that title, very early on” you teased him.

“I missed you… Never disappear again, we will all chase you down” Hoshi said sincerely.

“Yeah. yeah. Emotional get together, we are all in tears, wow. Now, let’s go, Y/N. We need to destroy them. Warm up” Seungkwan interrupted your moment with Hoshi. 

Suddenly, you see out of the corner of your eye movement towards you three. 

 Shua, Vernon and Seokmin are all running towards you. Seokmin picks you up and spins you around very excitedly.

“Is this a rom-com in the nineties? Put her down, Seokmin, we all missed her and want a well deserved hug” Shua said.

You hugged the three boys. Vernon didn’t say a word, just gave you a knowing nod. Very typical. 

“Congratulations on the promotion, Y/N! We all heard about it and we are so happy for you. You worked so hard, you earned it” Seokmin said while holding your hand.

“Yeah, we wanted to take you out to celebrate but… it’s been hard reaching you most of the time” Vernon said looking in your eyes. There it is. The guilt trip. You deserved this and they knew who to choose to make you feel that way.

“I know, Hansol. I’m sorry. I’ll be better from now on. Promise” you said sincerely. 

While you were all silent, sharing this moment, a scream, more like a screech, echoed through the party and you all looked in it’s direction.

Lily. Yup. Very obvious. She is walking as fast as she can in her heels towards you with a huge smile on her face and with Seungcheol right behind her.

And there he was. Right behind Seungcheol. Walking in your direction. 

And he wasn’t alone. Of course. Next to him was this cute, small girl with big eyes. She looked so innocent and small. Just his type.

All of your worries disappear. He’s not going to talk to you. He never cared. You truly had been such a fool for so long. You wonder how you never saw through it. It doesn’t matter. You decide to focus on the people in front of you that truly love you and are so happy to see you.

“You were right about the outfit. I hate it” Lily says after hugging you and dropping her smile.

You rolled your eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s the reason I didn’t get laid in college. You’re too late for that joke, Lil. But thanks, for the clear and unconditional support on your side, as usual” you said annoyed.

“Come on… It’s not the only reason… Your resting bitch face and bombastic side eye were the main reasons you didn’t get laid in college” she said and everyone laughed.

“Okay, it’s been nice seeing you all. Leaving now. See you all in a year” you started to turn away.

“No way you’re leaving. It’s been months, you owe us this. Better bring your A-game tonight, Y/N. Some of us aren’t in a merciful mood” Seungcheol pulled you back into the group.

“That’s all you got for me, Seungcheol? You’re getting soft” you said, challenging him.

“It’s your fault. Left me all alone with all of them. You brought this on yourself” he said, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Hi, Y/N. Congratulations on the promotion” Jeonghan spoke, almost whispering. He sounded nervous. 

Everyone whipped their heads around to look at Jeonghan and then you. They kept looking between the two of you. Some of them expected you to blow up and some of them expected you to be polite and cordial. You surprised all of them.

You looked away from Jeonghan without speaking a word. You turned to Seungkwan and locked your arm with his.

“So? Lead me to our victory, partner. Or should I replace you before we even start?” you asked him.

“Absolutely not, you’re mine. We’re gonna destroy all of you. Prepare yourselves” he stared at Vernon, Shua and Seungcheol specifically.

Then he led you towards the alcohol. You were extremely thankful for him.

Seungkwan might have met Jeonghan before he met you but there was a reason everyone said you must have been twins in another life. He suffered the way you did, his reactions were similar. Your side eyes? Unmatched. The only thing you were mainly different was in pettiness. He had the ability to be much more petty and cruel if needed than you. Until tonight. 

Seungkwan was proud of you. Maybe it didn’t look polite but Jeonghan had ripped your heart out, put it through a blender and served it back to you on a silver platter. You owed him nothing. He made his choice when he left you and he is reaping the consequences.

Hoshi and Seungcheol stood on top of the living room table and warned everyone:

“Beer pong tournament starts in 30 minutes. Sign up with your partners now!”

“Keep drinking, warm up, I’ll sign us up. We got this!” Seungkwan tells you immediately.

He was way too excited for this but you understand him and everyone else. It had been far too long since you had all been together, relaxing like this, having fun. And it had been even longer since the beer pong partners had changed.

Usually, you and Jeonghan were always a team. The cheater and the angel who convinces everyone their moves are within regulation due to some unchecked loophole. Shua and Vernon, the americans. Always a team. Always made it to the finals against you and Jeonghan. Seungcheol and Hoshi were always a team. An unlikely one but one that always worked. Seungkwan always forced Woozi to be his partner even though Woozi just wanted to be left alone. Everyone else was pretty okay partnering up with whomever was available and they didn’t put too much effort into fighting everyone for a partner. Mingyu and Wonwoo, Seokmin and Dino, and lastly, Jun and Minghao. They were the good ones. The ones that played for fun only. At least in this game.

This time around, Woozi finally thought he would get some peace but Jeonghan was forced to pick him since obviously you would not be pairing up with him. 

You joined everyone around the table and started a conversation with Lily who always got bored watching you guys compete. Well, until Seungcheol started to lose, then she got mad at everyone. It was adorable. 

You could overhear Jeonghan trying to convince Woozi to join him and at that moment a voice you did not know breaks you out of focus.

“Hi! I’m Haneul! Jeonghan invited me here tonight. The guys are pretty close, huh? Wanted to see if I could join you girls while they play and maybe find out a few secrets about Jeonghan” she giggled.

Lily looked at you and then back at Haneul. 

“Hi, Haneul. I’m Lily. This is Y/N. We met the boys in college. Or, Y/N met some of them in college and then we all got put together into this insane group. How do you know Jeonghan?” She asked her. 

She really knew you inside and out. She knew you weren’t going to speak a word to this girl and at the same time, you wanted to know everything about her. You hated it. You hated him. He made you this way. This poor girl had done nothing to you, yet here you were hating everything about her for absolutely no rational reason.

“Oh, from work. I just started at the company and I got assigned to Jeonghan’s team. He’s such a great guy--”

You walked away. Nope. Not tonight. You worked hard to get over him. You knew this would be a reality one day. Sure, you thought it would happen much later but you have to face it now. He’s here with someone he thinks is worthy of him and that he clearly wants to have a serious relationship with. He never brings anyone around the boys unless he means it. And she was so perfect for him. Your complete opposite.

You want to vomit. You hate this. You hate it here. How are you supposed to play a game and have fun when this is happening? It was way too soon. You shouldn’t be here, you knew. You knew this was a mistake. You started thinking of ways out. Trying to find a way to sneak out, turn off your phone and hope in the morning, the boys feel forgiving.

“Stop trying to figure out a way to sneak out” Seungcheol spoke beside you. 

“How did you know?” you asked him, sounding sad.

“Because if I were you, I’d be thinking about the exact same thing” he answered and put his arm around you to comfort you.

“I missed you, Cheolie” you said, resting your head on his shoulder.

He kissed the top of your head and asked “Is that why we barely spoke these last few months?”

“Not you too, Cheolie…” you said as you moved away from him.

“Come on, you know we have to. You disappeared. You both said your… ‘situation’ wasn’t going to change anything but it changed everything. You both deserve the shit you’re being handed by all of us” he said as he sipped his beer.

“So you’re giving him shit, too?” you asked, also sipping your drink.

“Oh he’s got it so much worse than you, Y/N. You have no idea the kind of pain we unleash on him on a daily basis” he said and smiled at you.

You knew he meant it too.

“Good. He’s earned it” you said and you both laughed.

“LET US BEGIN!” Hoshi yelled at the top of his lungs.

He jump scared everyone in the room and Seungkwan was ready for murder. Poor Mingyu had to hold him back from Hoshi as Hoshi ran off laughing as loudly as possible.

‘Some things never change’ you thought to yourself.

The tournament started and everything was going well. You were distracted and having fun, finally. And Seungkwan never left your side. Well… that’s not entirely true, but every time he did, he made sure one of the boys was there to prevent you from running away. 

You and Seungkwan had made it to the Semi-finals. A place Seungkwan had never been in all of these tournaments. He always blamed the cheaters but now here you were. And you were going to face Jeonghan and Woozi in the semi-finals.

Of course. You looked up and sighed. The universe really enjoys watching you suffer. It’s like it knows how much you love competitive Jeonghan and has decided to torture you even more. Because it’s not enough he looks that good and it wasn’t enough when he walked towards you with a little girlfriend behind him, no. That wasn’t enough. You needed to suffer more.

Seungkwan grabs you by the shoulders and makes you stare at him.

“A little creepy, don’t ya think?” you asked him and laughed.

“Stop laughing. Look at him. I want you to put your pain to use” he said, and almost growled at you.

“Excuse me?” you asked, but you knew what he was going to say next.

“He brought a girl here. Look at her. Very cute. Just his type, isn’t she? And, he barely tried speaking to you. Get angry, let’s destroy him” he told you while staring at you.

“Seriously, Seungkwan? That’s low” you said.

“You know what’s low? Knowing you were coming and bringing her. Use it. I need this win, Y/N and so do you” he said as he let go of your shoulders and started focusing on your adversaries.

You get what Seungkwan is doing and you know if you were Sengkwan you would be able to channel all of that energy and anger towards winning, but you’re not Seungkwan. This is where your personalities diverge completely. Right now, all of those thoughts, everything that has happened tonight… You are trying your hardest to just not cry. Do. Not. Cry. 

Long story short. You lost. Bad. You sucked. Bad. And you wanted out. Bad.

As soon as the final shot sinks and the match ends, you get out of that living room and you go hide. 

You need to breathe, you can’t breathe there. You’re suffocating.

You don’t know how long you stay in the guest bathroom. You’re on the floor, tears running down your face and your breathing has finally started to stabilize. ‘You’re fine. You’re okay. You’ll be fine’ you kept telling yourself over and over.

You get up, clean your face, take one last look in the mirror and try to make yourself look presentable. You needed to leave this party. This was too much, too soon. The boys would have to understand.

You leave the bathroom and as you’re about to leave the guest bedroom, he spoke up behind the bathroom door.

“Not even a hello, love?”

Your heart started beating so loudly, you started shaking. How dare he? How dare he do this to you? You looked back at him over your shoulder and said:

“Don’t make the wrong choices and expect no consequences, Jeonghan. You shouldn’t keep Haneul waiting.”

And you left.

You left. This time, you had the power. You closed the door behind you and you started getting ready to leave. Some of the boys ran over to you.

“I had fun, I did. But I have to go, okay? I’m sorry Soonyoung. And congrats to you boys, you deserve this. You worked too hard so kill it, okay?” you said with a weak smile on your face looking between Hoshi, Jun, Minghao and baby Dino.

They all gave you a huge group hug and let you leave.

You got home and you cried yourself to sleep, again.

You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry for him anymore, no matter what. But here you are. In bed, crying.

You wonder if you even understand Jeonghan at all. If you ever did. He left, didn’t try to contact you but tried to speak to you when you first walked in the party. Brought a new girl to the party he knew you would finally be at and pretended to sulk when you didn't answer his greeting.

You have no idea what he wants. You never did. But it doesn’t matter. Not anymore. 

In a way, now you can heal. You saw him with someone else, the worst possible scenario in your head and you survived. Barely. But you did. You’ll learn to navigate these feelings and you’ll get better at forgetting him.

Tonight was difficult but tomorrow will be better.

It had been two weeks since the party. You had been busy and hadn’t had time to think much more about it. And, you also didn’t want to think about it or talk about it at all.

So, you may have been ignoring the texts the boys sent and even Lily. You just didn’t have the energy at this point. You were still drained and trying to find your bearings.

You knew this wouldn’t last much longer. They were very persistent when they had to be and when they wanted to be. 

Today you decided to have lunch delivered and eat in your office. It was one of the days you needed to be in the office and you were already drained. You didn’t expect any visitors, especially at lunch time but there’s a knock at your door.

“Who is it?” you asked from your desk, pausing your Youtube video.

Lily doesn’t even reply and just opens your office door and comes right in.

“Well, hello there. Why did you knock if you’re just gonna make yourself at home either way?” you asked her playfully.

“I’m mad at you. This is the silent treatment, in case you’ve forgotten what that feels like” she said as she crossed her arms.

“Not much of a silent treatment if you stalk me all the way here AND speak to me or is it?” you asked again.

“You’re unbelievable you know that, Y/N? We barely speak or see you for 6 months, you show up to one party, leave abruptly in the middle of it and start to ignore us again and you still think this is a joke? Keep pushing us away like this and one day none of us are going to push back anymore” she said and your smile fell from your face.

“I’m sorry, Lil. Jeonghan caught me alone at the party and… I had to leave after that. I couldn’t be there anymore. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I wasn’t ready to see him yet and definitely not ready to see him with someone else so quickly after our falling out” you said honestly.

Lily sighed and smiled sadly at you. 

“Let’s talk about it? You haven’t talked to anyone about it since the falling out. I really think it’s time you share your burden with someone. You can’t keep carrying this alone. It’s going to keep suffocating you. Let it out with me, yeah? Tomorrow? I can come over, we can spend the day together, talking and binge eating and drinking. Like the old days. Let me be your friend, Y/N”

“Deal” was all you said but it was enough to make Lily smile more brightly. 

She hugged you and said her goodbyes and your day continued.

Maybe she was right. You had not talked about it with anyone. Maybe you’ve healed as much as you can on your own. You need support. You need your friends.

The next day you woke up and you were excited. You hadn’t spent a full day with Lily like this in a very long time. You missed this so much. 

You went out for a quick grocery run to get all her favorite snacks and drinks and some other additions you needed for your home and you decided since you weren’t going to bring too much back that you would walk to the store. You could use the fresh air.

As you were walking there, you kept thinking about what Seungkwan had said before. He knew you had blocked Jeonghan but how? You hadn’t told anyone and sure, it could be an obvious assumption, but he knew. With certainty. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of Jeonghan having tried to contact you after that night and finding out he was blocked. How did that make him feel? Why did he tell Seungkwan? And did he try to contact you more times after that? How many more times?

‘Why do I care? Why am I torturing myself?’ you asked yourself. But you know why. Deep down (maybe not that deep down) you wanted him to try to contact you. You wanted him to feel like shit when he realized you blocked him, and you wanted him to keep trying to contact you.

You just wanted him.

How pathetic is that? He keeps hurting you and you keep wanting him. Always.

After you got home and prepared everything for Lily’s visit, you sat on your kitchen counter staring at your phone next to you.

‘Don’t do it. Don’t do it. I shouldn’t do it. This is a fucking bad idea. Stop being weak. Don’t do it’ you kept telling yourself over and over again. As you were about to do something very stupid, your doorbell rings and you thank all the heavens and Gods above.

You opened the door and a very excited and happy Lily barged in.

“Did you miss me? How long has it been since we did this? Feels like forever…” she said as she started taking out her blankets and pillows and setting up your living room for a proper girls day.

“I want to unblock Jeonghan. Is that stupid?” you asked abruptly and so quickly that Lily thought she misheard you.

Lily slowly turned around and looked at you with an eyebrow raised.

“Why?” she asked.

“I just… Seungkwan mentioned before that he knew I had blocked Jeonghan and I thought that was weird because I didn’t tell anyone anything and it got me thinking that yeah, I know, he could’ve made that comment based on an assumption but you know Seungkwan, he doesn’t say or do things he is not certain of and that made me wonder if Jeonghan had tried to contact me after that night and if he did, what did he want to say and how did he feel after being blocked by me” you said all in one breath and so fast that Lily almost laughed at you.

“Easy there, we have all day, no need to say things in one breath like that. Don’t want you passing out on me” she said, now laughing out loud.

“Sorry… So… Is it stupid?” you asked her again.

“Of course not. What you two shared… I know we never talked about it but I actually saw myself and Seungcheol a lot in you two but you know, in a completely dysfunctional and delusional way of pretending you didn’t love each other” she said as she laughed lowly and you sat down on your couch.

“Look… I don’t know what he wanted to say but I can confirm he has tried to contact you after that night. Several times actually. Seungcheol told me. I’m assuming he told Seungcheol, Seungkwan and probably Vernon and Shua. He knows they would be his best bet at convincing you to unblock him but none of them wanted to help, I guess. At least Seungcheol didn’t.” she said and you looked down.

“I know he fucked up. But… and don’t hate me for saying this… You did too. And I think you know that. Sure, he fucked up in a much more serious and permanent way but you two just kept hurting each other for years. It’s always been so complicated when it should’ve been easy.” she continued.

“I also know the Y/N I know is a very forgiving person and has always given people second chances. Not saying you should forgive him just like that. But maybe you can hear him out. He clearly wants to talk to you about it and you clearly miss him and want to know what he has to say. Just because you give him a chance to explain, does not mean you will forgive him and want him back in your life.” 

She finished her speech and you looked at her with tears in your eyes.

“How long have you been holding that in?” you asked and laughed.

“6 whole months actually. Seungcheol kept stopping me from saying anything and he kept saying you were too angry. Not ready to hear it just yet” she said and was crying with you now. 

You both looked insane. Crying and laughing at the same time, holding each others’ hands but this was exactly what you needed.

“I hate it when he’s right” you said and laughed.

“Oh, same. And he is always right. The boys were all on your side, you know? Always giving Jeonghan shit.” she added.

“I bet… Seungcheol told me that at the party too” you told her.

“So… Unblock him. Don’t tell anyone. I won’t either. And we’ll see if he tries to contact you again or not” she told you and moved to turn on the TV.

“To be fair, it’s been 6 months. Not sure he would keep trying for that long” you told her as you started to open some of the snacks and drinks.

“Don’t say that. I know for a fact he kept trying and hoping you had unblocked him so he’ll definitely try again” she said as she started helping you with the snacks.

You nodded and… Unblocked him. You did it. It felt weird. You wanted him to reach out but you were also scared of what he would say if he did. And, if you were being honest, you were still so angry at him for leaving you. So you’ll know that if you decide to hear him out, that first conversation is not going to be pretty no matter what he has to tell you.

The rest of the day went by fast. You talked and vented to Lily about everything. Just like you did with Jeonghan on that day. You had told her everything, you had cried together and laughed and after all of it, you just watched a few episodes of a show and before you knew it she had to leave.

You said your goodbyes and promised each other you would do this way more often.

You felt happy when she left. Lighter. You cleaned most things up and decided to go to bed early. You were feeling tired. You were feeling as if today you were finally going to get some real sleep. Lily was right. You needed this. You needed to vent and share your burden and now that you had, you felt relieved.

You wanted to take full advantage of this opportunity. You turned all your notifications off, did your nighttime beauty routine and went to sleep. You fell asleep so fast and you slept like a baby. At last.

Sunday morning you woke up so well rested and a bit confused from sleeping so much. You honestly don’t remember the last time you woke up after 11AM and it felt great. You stretched, yawned, opened your blinds and smiled. 

Wow, you really did feel so much better after being and talking with Lily. It helped with some of the pain and she was right. You didn’t know if you would give Jeonghan a chance to explain himself yet but if you did, that did not mean that you were going to forgive him and that your lives would again intertwine. 

After showering and cooking breakfast, you went to your dinner table facing your window to eat and you remembered you had turned off your notifications for the night so you went back to your room to pick up your phone and turn them back on.

You started eating and checking your notifications when you receive a notification you didn’t think you’d receive this soon.

It was a text from Jeonghan. Apparently sent late last night.

“I know I haven’t texted you since before the party. I didn’t know what to say. I’m sorry isn’t enough. I wanted to give you time but these weeks have been shitty. I’m miserable. I wish you could read my messages and see how much I’ve been suffering without you. I keep texting you pretending that you read them. How pathetic am I? Doesn’t matter. I’ll keep being pathetic until the day you give me a chance to explain everything. I miss you terribly, love”

You kept reading it over and over again. You didn’t know what to do. This is not something you can do over text. This also is starting to seem like a very bad idea at this moment. You know he probably saw the message was delivered, unlike his previous ones. 

Jeonghan is very much feeling like you. Confused. Not quite sure what to do. Send another text? No. Not over text. Call you? Maybe it’s too soon, maybe he should wait to see if you reply at all and then try to call you. A voice message? Hmm, not ideal but it would give him a better platform to at least try to convince you to meet with him and let him explain everything. 

A voice message it is. But it can’t be any voice message, he decided. He needed to write down everything he needed to say in this message. He needed to be clear and straight to the point. Just like you always have been.

After hours of writing points down and recording himself and hearing it back, he decided to just go for it. No matter what, it won’t be perfect. But it’s all he’s got. He has this chance and he can’t afford to waste it. He can’t afford you blocking him again and not being able to get his second chance.

You spent hours trying to avoid staring at your phone. You cleaned your whole apartment and decided to play some games to distract yourself. ‘You don’t have to respond. If he means it, he’ll reach out again. Be patient, Y/N’ you told yourself.

And sure enough, your phone dings a text notification. You’re so nervous. It’s just a text and you’re so nervous. You look down at your phone. It’s a voice message. No. You can’t hear his voice. Why does he know you so well? 

You wanted to wait to open it. You really did. But you couldn’t. You reached down and listened to it.

“Hi, love… I… I don’t really know how to start. I can’t believe you unblocked me. And, don’t worry. I know this doesn’t mean that you’ll hear me out or forgive me but you know I have to try, right? Maybe you don’t. I know you’ve been feeling like you never mattered to me. Like you were never worthy of me. And it’s all my fault. In all these years, I’ve been so blind and I’ve hurt you so much. I wanted to beg you for a second chance but… This isn’t my second chance. It’s not even my third. I’ve hurt you more times than I can keep count and you have given me multiple chances to redeem myself and I always disappointed you. I kept asking myself, if I were you, would I forgive me? Would I give me another chance? How many chances are too many chances? How many times will you forgive me before I learn? Truth is, if I were you, I would be done. Completely. I’m sending you this on the very slim hope that you are better than me and that you will at least let me explain everything. Even if after you hear it, you won’t forgive me. Please… Let me explain myself. Meet with me, one last time, love.”

He was crying for most of his message. You could hear it and it was tearing you apart.

Part of you wanted to meet with him but the other part of you was still so mad. Could he just beg and cry and get away with everything? You deserve better than all of this, you know that now. You’re not sure what to do. You needed to weigh your options. 

You sent him a simple text: “I don’t know. I’ll think about it. Please, don’t message me anymore. I’ll reach back out when I have an answer.”

He liked your message and added nothing else. Jeonghan knows you well and he knows to respect your boundaries, always.

You spent the next few days thinking it over. You kept remembering Lily’s words. Listening to him does not mean you will forgive him and it might even help you with closing this chapter in your life, if that’s the final choice you’ll make.

But somehow, every time you tried to message him and tell them that yes, you will hear him out, you couldn't pull that trigger. You were scared. You couldn’t pinpoint what was holding you back.

You decided to call Lily. She would help you, she would know what to say to help you through this.

She picked up after a few rings.

“Hey! How have you been? How’s the… situation we talked about Saturday?” she asked and you could hear some background noise and echo.

“Am I on speakerphone, Lil?” you asked back.

“Yes, I’m cooking dinner and Seungcheol answered it for me. Is this not a speakerphone conversation?” she asked you and you replied right away.

“Actually, if Cheolie is there and wants to give his input, I would appreciate it. I’m… confused? I don’t even know the right word to describe what I’m feeling right now…” you replied and you immediately got an answer from the other side of the phone.

“I’m here. Tell us” he said, straight to the point. You too had always had that in common. Cut through the bullshit and get to the point.

“Well, Saturday after me and Lily spoke, I decided to unblock Jeonghan. I just… Wanted to know if he tried to reach out and if he would again and he did. That same night actually. Long story short he sent me a text and a voice message begging me to meet up with him and let him at least explain. He said a lot of things… I don’t know how to feel about them? I told him I would think about it and I thought about it. A lot. I want to hear him out but every time I go to message him the fear and hurt resurfaces again and I just… Can’t… I mean… Does this mean I shouldn’t listen to him? I need help…” you said and waited for a response.

“You should hear him out” Seungcheol said simply.

You didn’t know what to say so he continued.

“What’s the worst that can happen? You fight? Good. You need to fight. You both need to tell each other everything you’ve been holding inside since you met. You need to scream at each other and understand how annoyingly frustrating you both are. And if after that fight you decide it’s not worth it, you’ve given him too many chances, then you’ll know and you’ll be able to finally get closure and truly move on. Let’s face it, Y/N. You won’t fully move on until you get your answers. All of them.”

“I really do hate it when you’re right…” you said and the three of you chucked.

“But I’m always right, Y/N. Meet up with him and come running here if you need to” he told you.

After you hung up with them, you decided you needed to rest. You had a migraine. Tomorrow will be a new day and tomorrow you’ll let him know.

The next morning you decided to call Jeonghan before starting work. You knew his schedule and you knew he would be up. You couldn’t do this through text and you won’t.

He picked up immediately.

“Hello, love. Good morning. Did you sleep well?” he sounded the same. Asked the same questions he used to before. It felt familiar and nice.

“Hi, Jeonghan. Good morning. Yes, I did, thank you. I hope you did too. Look, I’ve decided to hear you out. I don’t want to talk through the phone or in a public place. I have a feeling this conversation will be… difficult to say the least for the both of us. Can I come over after work this week or is the weekend better for you?” you asked him.

“Tonight. Come over tonight, please.” he said without any hesitation.

“Okay… Tonight it is. I’m working from home so I should be done at 6PM. I’ll be there by 7” you stated plainly.

“Okay, love. I’ll be waiting” he said and he sounded as if he were smiling. It made you want to smile as well but you didn’t.

“See you then, Jeonghan” you said and hung up.

You weren’t ready to see and speak to him but were you ever going to be?

Tonight, everything will be out in the open. Finally. You will both put all our cards on the table. No more secrets. No more hiding. And then, you can both decide how to move forward. Together or separate.

6PM comes quicker than you anticipated and it’s time to get ready and meet with him.

You got to his apartment and the nerves started kicking in. ‘You got this’ you told yourself right before you rang the doorbell. 

He must have been right by the door because the door flew open almost right after you rang the doorbell.

“Hi, love. Come in, please” he said and gave you room to walk towards the living room. He sounded nervous. He looked nervous too. It made you feel good to know you weren’t alone in this. 

You walked in the living room. It was clear he prepared for your arrival. The room smelled like the candle you loved and kept buying for him so he would always have it when you came over. The lights were dimmed and he had put music on in the background. He had water and snacks on the coffee table and your pictures together were still up and visible to anyone who walked in his house.

Fuck, you missed him so much. You want to stay strong but you are already feeling so weak.

You sat on the couch, turned your phone off and looked up at him with raised eyebrows, silently asking him ‘What are you waiting for?’.

He sat on the couch with you, turned his phone off and started speaking.

“I love you. And no, I don’t mean in a ‘best friends’ type of way. I’m in love with you. And yes, I am fully aware those are the exact same words you said to me 6 months ago. And you should know I’ve wanted to say these words back to you ever since that night. I’ve always loved you. Since the very beginning. I have been trying to figure out why I didn’t see it or why I kept telling myself that I didn’t love you like that but honestly, I don’t know why I did it. I know I’ve always been afraid to lose you. To have you look at me with disappointment in your eyes. But before that night, I told myself we were just friends and were always going to be just friends. I had convinced myself of that fact and I don’t understand why.” he said with tears in his eyes now. 

“Fuck, I know what a cliché it is to only realize what I have in front of me once I lose it, trust me. But the night I left, I remember thinking how happy I had always been with you, around you, in your presence. How lost I was before you walked into my life and it all made so much fucking sense. You and I made sense.” he continued. 

You were staring in his eyes and it was your turn now to turn your poker face on.

“Only after I met you did I set up all these rules about my dating life. No one was ever worthy of dating me simply because they weren’t you. I kept making these excuses… To myself, to everyone around me. But I was just too stupid to see that I was making these rules in hopes of finding someone like you. Because I’ve always known since I met you, Y/N, that I’m the one that is and never was worthy of being with you. But if there’s anything I have learned in all the years we’ve known each other is that there’s absolutely no one like you, not for me” he continued.

“I wanted you for so long that when I saw the chance of having you, I took it. No hesitation. I don’t regret that first night and never will. What I will regret is never having kissed you that night and the conversation that took place after it all happened. What I said, the way I acted. Like you were just another ‘fuck-buddy’. I will never forgive myself for that and I don’t expect you to either” he said as tears kept flowing down his face. 

He never wavered and kept looking at you while he finished up his speech.

“I know I don’t deserve another chance. I don’t deserve forgiveness. But I still had to ask. I had to try. I love you and I am begging you to give me another chance. At everything. Being your best-friend, your lover, your partner. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll let me” and he was done. 

The only sounds in the room were the sounds of you both crying. Why did he only decide to tell you all of this now? Why was life so unfair? You don’t know if this is enough. His words are beautiful but they always have been. You needed more. Much more. 

And your anger starts winning over your forgiving side. You still have a lot to tell him before you even make a decision about this. He needs to hear how much he has hurt you. 

“Am I just supposed to be moved by this and forget all these years? Forget all the words you’ve said to me, all the little comments and jokes you made about me not being your type and not even being close to what you wanted?” you asked him.

“You know me well, Yoon Jeonghan, which means you know my memory never fails me. I remember every single cruel thing you said and smirked about. I remember the restaurant you never took me to no matter how many times I begged you to because ‘That is way too romantic for us, love’. And you want me to believe that after you’ve said all of these things you went home and felt bad about it?” you were getting angrier and angrier.

“You don’t love me. And you didn’t love me back then either. You love the way I make you feel. You love how desperate and pathetic I am and always have been for you. You love that I worship the ground you walk on. You love the feeling of having someone willing to do anything for you, willing to sacrifice their own beliefs and self-esteem to get even a small portion of your attention. You love having someone beg you to take them out, begging you to see them. You love all of these things and anytime someone gave that to you, you stayed” you were getting harsher now. 

“That’s how you found your ‘fuck-buddies’. You always chose the most desperate ones because you always loved the way it made you feel about yourself. That’s why you kept me around. You kept all of us around for different feelings. We were all desperate for you, yes. But their job was to keep you satisfied sexually, while mine was purely emotional. It wasn’t love. Not for them and not for me.”

You said and started getting up from the couch and collecting your things.

“I was never different from them. Not in the core of the matter. In the end, we all got hurt and you always left, unburdened and ready for your next fling to satisfy your ego” you said as you began to walk towards the apartment door.

You looked over your shoulder and told him: “I don’t know if I can forgive you. I know I don’t believe you. I wish I did. I really do. But my memories of every little thing you did over the years that hurt me are keeping me from letting go. I’m glad we both got to say what we always needed to say to each other. I’m not sure we’ll see each other again, but if we don’t, we can at least have closure now. Goodbye, Jeonghan.”

You got home that night and you were just… Numb. You couldn’t cry anymore. You didn’t want to scream. You just sat on your couch, staring at your wall, not knowing what to do and how to move on from this. From him. 

You fell asleep on your couch that night and woke up the next day feeling even worse.

You reached out to both Lily and Seungcheol and they were very supportive but they also made sure you knew they weren’t going to advise you any further. The next decision was entirely up to you. 

The next week went by so slowly. You still felt like shit and it seemed to only get worse each day.

It may sound stupid but you missed him. You had just seen him. You had a bad fight. Yet, you missed him. 

You went to your closet and took out the box of pictures you had hidden there. You started looking over each one of them. All of them were attached to such great memories. Memories of days together, nights together, vacations together. You were always smiling brightly. You remember all those feelings. Everything he had made you feel when you were together. 

You started to regret some of the things you said last time you saw him. He cared for you deeply. You could tell from the pictures and from all the good memories you had. He always protected you and made sure you felt safe and warm. Your friendship was nothing like the flings he had. You went too far. You wanted to hurt him but you weren’t fair in your accusations.

You’re pretty sure that’s why you feel like shit. You thought saying these things to him and hurting him would make you feel better. It would leave you satisfied knowing he was hurting like you did all those times. But it didn’t. It made you feel so much worse than before. 

You fucked up and now it was your turn to fix it. You knew if you went back there, it would mean you would forgive him. Were you ready for that? Was that what you wanted?

You dropped the pictures, grabbed your keys and left. 

You were standing in front of his door wondering if you should ring the doorbell. He might be busy. He might not even be home. You didn’t even know what you were going to say. Fuck, this was a terrible idea. You need to leave. Now. Go home. Regroup and come back with a plan.

The door opened and a tired Jeonghan was staring at you, blinking in confusion with his jacket halfway on his body.

“Hmm… Hi… I wanted to talk to you. I should’ve called or texted before. Sorry. I should leave. Sorry” you were shaking and started to leave but he grabbed your elbow and stopped you from moving.

“No. Stay. I’m not busy. Talk to me. Please” he asked you.

“You were leaving though… I feel bad… I--”

“I was out of whiskey. Was going to buy more. It doesn’t matter. Stay. Come in. Talk. Please, love” he interrupted you and he never let go of your arm. 

“O..Okay. Yeah. Okay” you nodded and went inside his apartment.

He took off both his jacket and shoes and you did the same. You looked around. The house was messy. Very unusual. Jeonghan was a creature of habits and he hated messiness. This was your fault.

You decided to be blunt again. 

“Did you mean it? What you said last week? All of it?” you asked him nervously.

“Yes. Every word. I know it’s hard to believe but I meant every fucking word” he responded just as bluntly.

“What about Haneul? You brought her around the boys… To the party…” 

You hated that you asked but you had to know everything before giving him a permanent answer.

“She invited herself. Pretty much blindsided me into joining us. She’s been following me around the company. I’ve made myself very clear. I’m not available and it will never happen but she wasn’t backing down. I’ve been really tired. Exhausted, after losing you. I had no strength left in me to fight her. I would just ignore her until she gets the message. Not my finest moment but I couldn’t care less” he said plainly.

You nodded and started getting really nervous. You gulped and asked him your final question.

“I was an asshole last week. I’m sorry. I said a lot of things that weren’t fair. I wanted to hurt you. I regret most of it. After all I said, do you still want me? Want us? Want to spend the rest of your life making it up to me?”

“That’s all I want. I want all of it. I deserved your words. I deserved to be hurt. I should be the one apologizing. But fuck yeah. If you give me that chance, this last chance, I will never let you go again” he said as he walked closer to you until he was so close you could feel his breath on your lips.

You looked up at him.

“Deal. I want to forgive you. I want to move forward with you. With us. But I have a few rules…”

He looked in your eyes and started to smirk. You were giving him a taste of his own medicine. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy but he would do everything to earn you back.

You moved away from him and started to put your shoes and jacket on, getting ready to leave.

“No sex. Not in the beginning. I want romance. Lots of dates. We have similar tastes and you know me better than anyone. Choose wisely” he laughed and nodded along.

“Kissing is very much allowed and encouraged. This is obviously an exclusive relationship and I am to be called and to be treated as your girlfriend, always” he kept smiling and was starting to tear up. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was.

“Anything else, princess?” he asked.

“No princess. I like baby much better. Or angel. Other than that, no other rules. For now” you answered him. And before you left, you walked towards him, intertwined your hands and asked him sincerely:

“I missed you, Hannie. Don’t make me regret this, okay?”

“Never, baby. You’re mine now. I missed you so much, too. Let me take you out tomorrow, yeah? First date?” he asked back.

“I can’t tomorrow. Friday I’m free. Pick me up after work?”

“I’ll be there, baby” he said and you turned to leave.

Right before you left he told you “I’ll be texting you. Don’t ignore your boyfriend, baby. He’s very needy”

You laughed as you nodded and left his apartment.

You got home that night and you couldn’t sleep. You were so happy. Is this even real? This wasn’t a dream, right? And as you were having these thoughts, Jeonghan texted you just as he promised right before you left his apartment.

Next thing you knew, a month flew by. Your first month together as a couple.

So far he’s kept all his promises. He was the one worshiping you now. He always texted or called to make sure you were safe and happy. He took you out on multiple dates a week and always made you feel like you were the only two people in the whole world.

On your first date he took you to the restaurant down the street from his place that you always wanted to go. You had a feeling he was going to pick that place and you made fun of him for it but he kept saying ‘I told you, baby. From now on, I will do everything to earn your forgiveness and love. Clichés and all’.

After your first date, he took you home and kissed you so gently by the door. 

You never thought you would feel this way. You felt complete. The happiest you had ever been.

During this month together, he never made any additional moves on you. 

You had kissed. A lot. 

Made out like teenagers. A lot.

But he always stopped it and ended your date there.

You knew you asked for this in the beginning as one of your rules but you couldn’t take it anymore. 

You needed him. You knew you had to be the one to make the move or show that you are ready. Otherwise, he will keep respecting your boundaries no matter how hard you want him to disrespect them.

Today you met up with Lily for lunch. The guys and Lily had barely seen the two of you. You only had time and eyes for each other and everyone was letting you two enjoy this new relationship without any interruptions.

“You are glowing, you know that, Y/N?” she asked as she ate.

You laughed and told her “I’m just so fucking happy. I never thought this would happen. He’s been so amazing. And it doesn’t feel different. I mean, our friendship. We’re still infuriating with each other but now we just have the added benefit of kissing to shut each other up.”

“And fucking” she said loudly and you hushed her while you two giggled.

“We’re in public, asshole. And about the fucking…” you said.

“Nothing yet? I gotta give it to him. Never thought he would be able to last this long without making a move. Good for him” she said and kept giggling.

“Good for him? I am dying here, woman. I’ve tried everything. All my moves, all the signs and he just won’t do anything” you whispered.

“It’s your fault. You made it a ‘rule’. You should know that not only would he take this seriously, but he would also use this to torture you for as long as he could. Possibly until you begged him to fuck you” she said again way too loudly in this very public restaurant.

You looked around after shushing her and you realized what she just said. Oh my god. He’s doing this on purpose. Of course. You should’ve known better. You gave him a challenge and he was punishing you for it, the little shit.

“I love that you are only realizing this now” she said and kept laughing.

“Shut up and finish your food” you bit back at her.

You had a date tonight with Jeonghan. You had offered to cook for the both of you. More of an intimate date. And you were going in for the kill tonight. You were done waiting but you were also going to have some fun with him.

You had this pink dress in your closet that you bought almost a year ago. You were saving it for a really good date or so you kept telling everyone. And we’re here now. 

Pink is not your usual pick but this dress is a killer. And an added bonus: Jeonghan loves seeing you in pink. This dress is just short enough. Obscene cleavage. A bit corseted. Enough to let your natural curves speak for themselves.

Underneath the dress, the smallest thong was covering your pussy and of course, no bra.

You had covered your body in the watermelon body lotion he loved smelling on you. Very little makeup and hair down. Just how he liked it on you.

Everything was ready and waiting for him. Food was ready and in the oven. You had set the mood with the candles, lighting and music in the living room and dining room and your bedroom was certainly refreshed and ready to greet him.

When you opened the door and he had the chance to see you. You knew you made all the right choices tonight. He stared you up and down and gulped.

“Like what you see, Hannie?” you asked and walked away from him towards your kitchen.

He came up behind you before you could reach the kitchen counter, turned you around and kissed you. Deeply. Full of passion. Until you were both out of breath. He started touching the bottom part of your dress with his fingertips very lightly.

“‘You look absolutely gorgeous tonight, baby. Why haven’t I seen this dress before?” he asked.

“Well… You weren’t exactly the best boy to me for a while. But now… Now you deserve to see it. All for yourself, too” you said, still panting and recovering from the kiss.

And in a very Jeonghan fashion, he completely surprises you with his next question.

“Has anyone else seen you in this dress, baby? On a date? Who have you worn this for before me, hmm?”

You smiled and whispered in his ear: “No one else but you.”

He almost growled at you and started leaning in again to kiss you. He had that look in his eyes you knew all too well and you moved away from him.

“We should eat. Food is getting cold, Hannie” you said and moved towards the oven.

He stared and narrowed his eyes at you but he knew what you were playing at. He knew you too well. Let’s see who has the most self-control tonight, then.

You had a great meal. He complimented your cooking as usual and kept holding your hand every time he saw the opportunity to. 

Everything was perfect. 

You two started cleaning up after eating and you kept talking about everything that was going on in your lives.

Everything was always so easy between the two of you. 

You both sat on the couch and decided to watch a movie together. He was very touchy during the whole movie. His hand was moving higher and higher up your thigh and every time he moved it higher, he sighed, almost moaned. 

You were so fucking wet and he had barely done anything. Tonight had to be the night, right? ‘He wasn’t that evil’ you thought.

When the movie ended and his hand was almost completely underneath your dress, he moved closer to you, leaned in, held your chin in his hands and started to whisper against your lips.

“I should go, it’s getting late”

He laughed after watching the disappointment in your eyes, got up and started getting ready to leave.

You also got up and grabbed his jacket to stop him.

“You can’t leave yet” you said shakily.

He hummed.

“Why’s that, baby? Something you want from me?” he asked as he walked back over to you.

Okay, you can say it. It’s fine. Just ask him. Tell him, do anything.

“Ugh… Nevermind. Just… Drive safe, I guess” and you tried handing his jacket back to him.

He licked his lips, ripped the jacket from your hands, threw it on the couch and started walking you backwards towards the living room wall.

Once you were backed up against the wall, he placed both hands on each side of your head.

“Is it so hard to ask to get fucked, hmm? Not like you haven’t done it before. What’s with the pride, baby?” he asked.

You stared at him with uneven breaths but stayed silent.

“You know me, baby. Either ask me what I want to hear or I’ll leave you here against this wall in your probably very small and very wet panties” he said and started kissing down your neck.

“Stay. Fuck me” you said hurrily and barely in a whisper.

“You have to do better than that, baby. Ask me nicely since you’ve been a tease all fucking night” he said and now one of his hands was on your thigh, rubbing circles.

“Please, fuck me, Hannie. Please. I can’t wait anymore. You’re driving me crazy” you begged and he must have liked it because you felt him chuckle against your skin.

He pulled your dress up and slapped your clothed pussy. You moaned.

“Now that wasn’t so hard was it? You’ve wanted me to fuck you for a while now. Was wondering when you were going to start acting like a greedy little slut. My greedy little slut” he told you while he cupped your pussy.

“Hannie…” you moaned.

He moved away from you and started walking to your bedroom. You followed him. He sat on your bed and started unbuttoning his shirt while licking his lips and staring at you.

You stood in front of him.

“Take it all off, baby and come sit on my face” he told you.

You were nervous. You hadn’t done this before. Not with him. But you were also excited.

You took it all off, just as he asked and you started moving closer. He layed back on the bed and beckoned you to join him.

You did. You laid on top of him completely naked and you started kissing each other. His hands were everywhere. You couldn’t get enough of him. 

He stopped kissing you and started moving up on the bed to straddle his head and he dove right in. No hesitation. No words. No more waiting. He was eating you out like a starved man. You were holding on to the top of your bed and his hair.

He was being sloppy and loud and moving up and down between your clit and your hole. He spanked you hard and moved one of his hands to your folds. He started fingering you using two fingers while sucking hard on your clit. 

You were so fucking close already. This was fucking embarrasing. You start shaking and moving away from his mouth and he spanks you again.

“Don’t fucking move away from me again. Don’t you dare. Don’t be embarrassed and cum. Let go. Cum” he told you then while pushing your hips back down on his mouth.

And as soon as he pushed you back down and continued his movements, you started falling apart and moaning his name so fucking loud. 

He didn’t stop then. He kept going.

“Hmm… Sensitive… Can’t… Hannie…” you whined.

“Shhh baby, you can give me more. I know you can. Fucking give it to me. I’m fucking greedy” he started fingering you again, slower this time and started marking your thighs with his mouth until he saw purple marks all over your inner thighs. 

You kept moaning and whining and you were getting louder and impatient. He laughed and moved back on your clit.

This time he added a third finger and kept sucking on your clit. It was a mess, you were sure of it. His face, his fingers. You had never felt this wet and this sloppy before and you were getting closer and closer.

With his free hand, he cupped your breast and twisted your nippled between his fingers and you came again with a cry of his name.

You started slumping on the bed while you were still panting and he moved you off of him and laid you on your back.

He started kissing down your neck and taking his clothes off.

When he was fully naked and on top of you, you grabbed his face with both of your hands and you looked in his eyes. You wanted to know what he was thinking. How he was feeling.

“I love you, baby. So fucking much. Let me have you now, yeah?” he asked as he looked into your eyes. Almost as if he knew that you needed that, you needed to hear him say it.

You kissed him again and tangled your hand in his hair.

You both gasped when he started pushing into you and you both moaned when he bottomed out completely.

“Fuck, I missed you so fucking much. This pussy was made for me. I might not last long, baby. It’s been too long since I had you” he whispered in your ear.

“Hmmm, what about since your other ‘fuck-buddies’? How long ago was that?” you asked and he stared in your eyes and got very serious. You hated that you asked it but you need to know the answer.

“I haven’t been with anyone else after you. I thought that was obvious, baby. I want you. I spent all these months wanting you. No one else” he said and started kissing you again.

You stopped kissing him and asked him to start moving and he did.

He held your hips in place with one hand and with the other he intertwined your fingers together and he started pounding into you. No mercy. He was desperate for you and you for him.

“Fuck, Hannie… So good… Feels so fucking good… Don’t stop, please…”

He grunted in response and kept pounding into you.

You were getting closer again and he felt it so he moved the hand that was holding yours to push down on your stomach and kept pounding you hard into the mattress.

“You’re so close aren’t you, baby? I can fucking feel it. You’re squeezing me so hard, baby. Fuck… Let go. Let me feel you”

He leaned his forehead against yours and you came again. This is the loudest you have probably been. You feel shy all of a sudden but you can’t say anything coherent. You’re mostly babbling at this point and he starts laughing at you.

“Don’t tell me I fucked you stupid, baby. Use your words properly, you’re a big girl”

“Hannie… s’good…”

He kept laughing and kissing you and he leaned back to move one of your legs and place it on his shoulder.

He was now squeezing your thigh of the leg on his shoulder with one hand and grabbing your tits with his other hand and he started slowly thrusting into you. So you could feel every vein and every ridge on his cock moving inside of you. This felt like torture but you knew he was delaying his orgasm as much as he could.

“Look at you… My angel… You’re so gorgeous like this under me… Fuck, I’m never letting you go. My good girl… Hmm? Are you my good girl, baby? Answer me”

You started nodding.

“Yes… Yeah… Yours.. Good… Good girl…”

It was your turn now to surprise him. You grabbed his hand that was on your tits and moved it to your neck.

“Fuck, baby… Want me to choke you? Can’t have anything nice, can we? Calling you my good girl and you start acting like a greedy little slut again”

He chuckled and started thrusting into you with much more force and speed. The hand on your neck started squeezing lightly and you started whining and feeling closer and closer to the edge again.

“Gonna cum one last time, hmm? With my hand around your throat like a slut? Yeah… Fuck yeah… Cum with me then, angel”

He leaned down to kiss you and you started cumming again. This time your vision turned white. You thought you were dreaming. This felt surreal.

You kept repeating his name over and over again and when you said ‘I love you’, he finally came inside you with a grunt and a low moan in your ear.

He laid down on top of you as you both recovered and he kept playing with your hair and calling your name.

“Baby… You okay? Was that too much? Come back to me, don’t fall asleep yet, we need to clean up”

You laid with your eyes closed and hummed.

“I’m here, Hannie. Just… Give me a few minutes… I think you broke me” you said and you both started laughing.

“Good broken though?” he asked.

“Fucking amazing broken” you answered and you kept laughing together.

After a few more minutes of laying together in pure bliss, he convinced you to get up and take a shower with him.

He had to hold you up for most of it. You were so tired. He kept poking fun at you and all you could mumble was ‘your fault’ and he started chuckling.

You shared a bed for the first time as a couple that night. You remember feeling like this was supposed to have been happening since the very beginning of your friendship. 

You knew you wanted to have him with you here for the rest of your life and all you could do was hope he meant every word he said and that he would want the same with you. It was the best sleep of your life that night.

You woke up the next morning to the sounds of Jeonghan singing to the music he was playing and what sounded like cooking. 

Fuck, you were starving. But first, you had to make yourself look presentable. He always looked so good in the morning and you… Well.., you had more of a rough appearance in the morning so you needed a moment to collect yourself before following the sound of his beautiful voice.

You went to the bathroom to do your morning routine and afterwards you joined him in the kitchen.

“Good morning, Hannie. What are you cooking, baby?” you said as you hugged him from behind.

“Hmm… Morning, angel. Just some eggs and sausage. You didn’t have much more”

“Sounds delicious, thank you” you said as you moved to sit on the kitchen counter behind him.

“We have to replace all those photos, baby” he said as he turned around to look at you.

You knew he meant the pictures you had ripped apart and put back together after your falling out.

“I don’t want to. I like them this way. It tells our story. It’s a little broken but in the end it got put back together” you said and smiled at him.

He smiled and turned back to the stove.

“You just want to get our kids on your side and have me as the bad guy, huh?” he asked and you chucked.

“Kids? Getting a bit ahead of ourselves, no? Let’s not make promises we can’t keep. We both have done enough of those” you said and he nodded and laughed.

You felt so happy when he said that but you didn’t want to sound too eager. You knew you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him but you still were scared that he would regret this eventually and leave you again.

What you didn’t know was that this time, he wasn’t going to let you go anywhere, and he was never going anywhere without you.

He was going to spend the rest of his life by your side, earning back every once of trust and love he lost from you before.

He was okay with you still being guarded. He knew you had nothing to worry about and he would prove it to you. Soon enough he will take out the engagement ring he bought after your first date and he will make sure you stay by each others’ side always.

The ultimate pinky promise.

It’s here guys and it’s a monster 😭 I really hope it lives up to your expectations. I’m still nervous about everything I write! Please let me know in the comments and such if you liked it  💕 Thank you for supporting me! CHEERS 🥂

Taglist (if you requested specifically): @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @lannadray @cvixmei @feat-sun @cvpidxo @yunjinified @shuahasmyheartffs @jjjzzz @starlight-night0 @rendeciu @momoxxchewz @miniseokminnies @meowmeowminnie @sofix-hc7 @aaniag @shinetogether17 @goodforgyu @sharkipoonis

[hatsukeii]

Kuroo Tetsuro has survived just about a hundred confessions in his lifetime. No, really, he has. He's survived meek, stuttering schoolgirls who bring him boxes of intricately wrapped chocolates, bolder, riskier classmates who offer to fill in the empty spot as his plus-one for school events, even girls from schools they play against who ask for a signature across their tits after Nekoma matches (which he has definitely never taken up before, for sure, not even a question.)

He is rendered speechless for the first time in his life, as he rummages through his brain, looking for the right words to either declare his undying infatuation, or to put together some sort of excuse as a backup plan if his confession goes sideways. Somehow, he fails to do either, which is how the two of you end up stuck inside the storage room of Nekoma's gym, surrounded by the seductive scent of rubber and leather volleyballs, and sweaty, unwashed school jerseys.

It was supposed to be easy, he was supposed to offer to pack up, and wait for the rest of the team to leave first, before ushering you, the team manager, over to him. He was supposed to tell you that he thought you were totally cool (not awesome yet though), one hand pressed up against the wall outside the storage room so his body could lean into it, and the other one spinning a volleyball on his finger like he just #didn't care lol if you said yes or no (which was a blatant lie). After that, since you would obviously have said yes anyways, he was supposed to flick the ball up and catch it with one hand only, flip his hair back like the totally awesome and nonchalant guy he thinks he is (he's not), and give you a wink for good measure, just so you remember how totally hot he is and never lose interest in him. Then, he would retreat into the storage room, and toss the volleyball into the basket with the others, waiting to hear for your giddy skips out of the gym. Once you were out, he would scream and jump like a teenage schoolgirl who just got their tits signed by Kuroo Tetsuro, and go home with a skip in his step. It was a perfect plan, down to the minute details.

Everything went south the second he decided to lean against the wall. It seemed that he had miscalibrated how many inches away the part of the wall that he was planning to lean on was from the door to the storage room. He instead opted to place his entire body weight onto the door that was kept ajar, so as to make sure Kuroo could go inside and toss the volleyball into the basket. It was already too late to salvage his plan when he sensed the shift in his centre of gravity, and the lack of surface beneath his feet as he tumbled straight into the storage room right in front of you. Obviously worried (of course, since you're supposed to be blindly in love with him), you ran in as well, too quickly for Kuroo to stop you before the door slowly swung shut behind your back, drowning the room in a blanket of pitch darkness.

The door unlocks from the outside. The keys are in Kuroo's pocket, which are now stuck inside the storage room that he had to unlock from the outside to keep open so he could toss the ball into the basket with the others after confessing his totally lowkey, "they don't even matter at all" feelings for you. See? This is what happens when Kuroo tries to do new things.

"You sure you don't want the lights-"

"KEEP THEM- nah, just keep them off, I like it better this way anyways."

He will stand in front of the light switch to block it completely if he needs to. He will threaten to strip naked right then and there if it means you will not even try to turn those fucking lights on. His entire body is so fucking red right now it's not even funny anymore, just embarrassing, and really, really lame. On the other hand, you just really want to find your phone, which has miraculously slipped out of your pocket and slid onto the ground of the storage room somewhere.

"Can I at least borrow your phone for a flashlight? I need to find mine, gotta let my parents know I might actually not make it home tonight."

Now Kuroo isn't a selfish person, and he is happy to offer his phone for you to find your own, so long as you don't try to look at him while you sweep across the floor of the room. He is happy to offer his phone, but it is sitting outside on a bench, far away from the horrors of the storage room. His free hand, now clammy and grimy from falling onto the ground and sweating bullets from his embarrassment, reaches up to rub his temples. Not only did his meticulously crafted plan blow up in his face, he now has to spend how many hours stuck in here with you, knowing full well he was going to confess. He can't even offer you help in finding a fucking phone in here. This isn't funny anymore, just humiliating, and really, really, really lame.

"Yeah, uh, that's somewhere outside too, my bad."

You stretch your hands out in front of you, feeling for a cart, or a wall, anything to lead your way. Your fingers manage to graze over the wall, and you almost cry out in relief when you can vaguely tell where in the storage room you are. Pressing your back against the wall, you slide downwards to sit. You don't have a watch, or any indication of time for that matter, but you can tell it's going to be a long night in here.

So why not probe a little further?

"Well, Tetsu, since we'll be stuck here for a while anyways, what were you saying before?"

The way his nickname rolls off your tongue makes him reconsider giving up on his efforts, until the rest of your question ensues. Kuroo can make out where you are from your voice, and he too tries to feel for a wall of some sort to walk along. Instead of a wall, he walks straight into you and trips over, falling into a pile of old jerseys. He isn't even sure how you're sitting here with that chemical weapon right next to you, but this will have to make do for now. He settles himself down beside you, his hand pressing against the ground.

"Me?" Who else? The Boogeyman?

"No, me. Yes, obviously you, dumbass, before you locked us both into this place."

He is sure of one thing: He does not want to confess to you right now. He did, twenty minutes ago, but as of now, he doesn't. His eyes dart wildly from one place to another, looking between nothing in particular in the pitch black room. Fuck me! Kill me now! Put a stop to this never-ending suffering! You think those old jerseys might actually have fatal effects on the human body?

"Nothing, don't worry about it haha it's literally nothing." God he sounds so fucking stupid. Haha? Seriously? Like that's going to save him now?

"Alright, then, guess we'll just sit here in silence for however long it takes until someone finds us. It will probably be tomorrow morning, just letting you know. But that's fine." No, it is not fine. You're itching to know what he was going to say. You're really hoping it's what you thought he was going for, but being hopeful leads to getting locked in a storage room, sitting next to a potential biohazard for the next 13 or so hours.

The motion activated lights outside the storage room shut off, and you can tell that it's dark out by the way that no light seeps through the bottom of the door anymore. Your stomach rumbles, unaccustomed to running this empty at this time of day. If only you can find your phone, which is lying unceremoniously somewhere in this room, and order something. That is your main concern. Kuroo's main concern is something way bigger, and much, much harder to fix. He is locked in a pitch black room with his team manager, who he's been head over heels fawning over ever since they graced the club with their presence. His phone is somewhere outside, which is not ideal. Your phone is somewhere inside, but to find it, you would have to turn the lights on, which is clearly the most reasonable thing to do. Except the second you turn the lights on, you will be able to see how the red from Kuroo's face and neck is slowly, but surely seeping into his white t-shirt, the amount of red enough to begin staining the collar pink, which is also not ideal, and is in fact, much worse.

"God, what the fuck am I doing?" Kuroo's hands travel to his ears, and the tips are smoking hot. He cups them in his palms, before rubbing his face in agony. This was supposed to be easy, and cool, and he was supposed to walk out of the gym with a new girlfriend. Now, he's not even sure when he will get to walk out of this gym. Should he make some small talk? Lie on the ground and sleep? Try to find a bottle to piss in for the night?

"If you help me find my phone, we can order food, and I'm telling you right now I need that, so badly. Can you please just turn the fucking lights on, Tetsu? Please?"

He doesn't respond, partially because he's too scared to, and mostly because he's trying to think of what excuse he can vomit out for being piping red everywhere the second you flick the lights on. He can feel you standing up by the way that your knee makes that little clicking sound when you extend them, the little sound he's heard so many times before during packup. You take one step, two steps three steps, hands outstretched and feeling for the smooth plastic of the light switch. Just as the coolness hits your fingertips, you flick the switch on.

Click!

"I'm like, really into you."

Oh! This was definitely not what you expected! Fuck me! Kill me now! How do you keep it cool when he's sitting right there!

You don't spare a second in turning the lights back off, drowning the room in darkness again, this time to hide your own flushing face. You're supposed to spend the next 13 or so hours in here with this guy, and he's just dropped a bombshell onto you. Not to say you don't reciprocate, because you obviously do (who wouldn't?), but you have to admit, it's a little scary thinking about the possibility of it, and it's really scary when the possibility is confirmed, for better or for worse.

Meanwhile, the possibility has been confirmed for Kuroo, for the worse. Much, much worse. Was it that bad? Was he so pathetic in his antics, that the second he truly meant what he said, you had to shut the lights off? He should've just waited longer, for more signs, or more tells, anything. He should've waited until his chances were maximised, so that there was no margin of error, and he definitely should not have planned to lean on a wall so close to a door that unlocks from the outside. Instead of his carefully orchestrated confession going swimmingly, it is drowning, and it's kicking and flailing its arms and legs everywhere, gasping for air.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this. Sorry. Wow! This is really fucking embarrassing! I need to die, like right now! Feel free to stay on that side of the room, you go girl!"

You try to stifle in a laugh, but it leaves your mouth before you can stop it. Typical Tetsuro, he just can't help but end everything with a joke. Time to test his sincerity.

"Alright, well what if..."

He can hear your footsteps approaching. He shuts his eyes, he's ready for anything. Kuroo has thick skin, he knows it. He's been hit more times that he can count in every single area of his body by the force of leather balls being struck by teenage boys, he's ready for it, trust guys! He's got this! In the bag! (The bag is a soggy paper bag that just broke from the bottom. Everything inside is rolling away from him on the ground.)

Instead of the stinging slap he's expecting, your extended hand brushes his shoulder, and then two hands cradle his face from the sides. The musty air of the storage room dissipates, and he smells chapstick instead, minty, almost unnoticeable. He braces himself. You're about to break his neck, he's sure of it, and honestly, that doesn't sound like too bad of an option right now.

"...I do this?"

Goodbye, beautiful world, and volleyball, and fans asking him to sign their tits. And most importantly of all, goodbye, you.

Then he tastes mint. It's a miracle that you even manage to find where his lips are in the pitch black darkness of the room, but a shot of luck works out in miraculous ways sometimes. This is one of those times. Kuroo has no idea what he's doing. Should his hands go on your waist? Or your face? Or your neck? Why is he thinking about those things right now, as if he can see where you are, and as if you aren't kissing him in the middle of the gym storage room? Fuck it, he just shuts his eyes and lets it happen, placing his hands wherever he can find you.

After all, he's Kuroo Tetsuro, and he just pulled his team manager by locking himself in a room with them on accident at 8pm on a Wednesday night.

"This was all a part of my masterplan, you just weren't aware of it."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Tetsu."

“Oh, this definitely does.”

You pull him close by his collar, and you can feel the heat radiating off his face. You smirk, can’t have a guy like him getting too cocky.

“Don’t embarrass me, motherfucker.”

Kuroo grins at your threat. Never has he ever had to make his own confession, let alone receive a threat in response. To be fair, never has he ever been locked in the gym’s storage room with his team manager either. Truly a night of new experiences.

He thinks it’s hot. Like really hot. He might just embarrass you a little once every so often to hear you say it again.

“Whatever you say, princess.”

____________________________________________

Kenma comes in for morning practice the next day, and for once Kuroo is earlier than him, judging by the way that his duffel bag is slouched over the bench, and his regular sneakers are sitting beneath it. Coach has given him the spare keys to the storage room, just in case Kuroo has lost his set again. He goes to unlock the door, seeing that it's closed, which means Kuroo has definitely lost them.

He opens the door to the two of you asleep, half of your body sprawled on top of his, and one of his arms resting inside your shirt, right on the dip of your back, atop a pile of old, musty jerseys. He winces, not at the sight of the two of you finally together, but at the fact that you two have managed to fall asleep in the centre of a bioweapon.

author's note:

i cracked myself up so many times writing this you have no idea, and i hope i have cracked you up too as you read this.

here are the tags!

@chuuya-brainrot @starlysama @bailey-reeds

will see you all in the next one, love u guys, bye bye

[violetarks]

"they don't love me like you do!"

anime: jujutsu kaisen

character: gojo satoru

summary: despite the countless valentines day offers he receives, satoru will only ever accept one confession. but you're confessing... to his best friend?

warnings: g/n! reader, they/them pronouns used, high school! au

"please accept these chocolates, gojo!" says the girl in front of him. satoru casually pulls down his glasses enough to see the red, heart-shaped cardboard box.

"oh, uh... thank you." he awkwardly says. this girl was two year below him, judging by the colours of her indoor shoes. he didn't even know her name. "this is... a surprise."

"i've liked you ever since orientation day. i hope you like these." she says with a nervous grin. she's stiff as he takes them out of her hands, standing up straight to stare at the tall man. "thank you for always being so funny and helping everyone you can."

"ah, you're welcome." he says, tucking the chocolates and the letter taped to it under his arm. luckily, the lunch bell had rung and everyone should've been off to enjoy their break. "well, i'll... see you around."

"b—bye, gojo!" she calls, waving at him as he walks the other way. he gives a kind smile before he turns the corner, dropping it immediately.

on the way to class, multiple other students watched him as he carelessly skimmed through the letter before stuffing it in his book bag, ready to throw it (and the others) away once home. valentines day was this week and it was two days before it today. yet satoru had received tons of confession letters and date proposals, none of which he had the intention of accepting.

plopping down in his chair, he groans, hanging his head, "ugh! i hate being so loveable..."

suguru rolls his eyes, outting his book down. "here we go again." he grunts, shaking his head.

"seriously! why can't i be left alone around valentines day?" he questions out lout, pulling his lunch box from his bag.

shoko bites into her sandwich as she listens to him. as she swallows, she retorts, "maybe it's because you flirt with every living being on earth." satoru sends him a pointed look. "so how many letters today?"

"seven." satoru responds, knocking his bag.

"and?"

"none of them were from y/n." he sighs out, picking up his chopsticks.

"wait, y/n?" suguru pipes up, putting his juicebox down, "as in y/n from class d?"

the blue-eyed boy raises a brow, halting his movements. "uh, yeah? l/n y/n." he recalls to his friend, tilting his head, "what? i've been talking about 'em for the past three months—suguru, have you been listening to me at all?"

"oh!" the dark-haired boy chuckles, nodding his head, "i know y/n. we're in the same literature class."

satoru stares at him in disbelief. the other students surrounding them are in their own little world, but the three of them didn't even mind them hearing if they tried. shoko continues to eat her food while suguru shrugs at his friend.

"are you kidding me?" satoru gasps out, waving a hand in the air, "i've been trying to get with them for three months and you tell me this just now?"

"you should've been more specific, man." suguru retorts, waving it off, "anyway, you gonna' ask them to be your valentine?"

satoru sighs loudly, hanging his head back, "i don't know... we only share bio together, i bet there's a lot of people who have asked them to be their valentine. they probably won't even accept mine."

shoko purses her lips and stretches her arms. "i don't know about that." she claims, "you're a pretty guy and everyone knows you. i doubt they'd pass up the chance to revel in that popularity."

"... thanks, shoko."

soon enough, the bell rings and the day goes on.

the next day, satoru notices something in your hand during biology class.

"whatchu' got there, y/n?" he asks, peaking over your shoulder. he sat behind you, enough room to see the handwritten letter you were writing.

"satoru!" you jump a little, covering the page. he furrows his brow. "it's, uh... i'm just writng something."

"is it... for valentines day tomorrow?" he inquires, curious to who was the lucky person. but you were still hiding it from him!

"no, of course not." you were lying, he could tell by the way you look to the left. a pout falls on his lips. "it's notes. for another class."

"oh... okay." he responds, a bit disappointed. why would you lie to him? he sits back in his chair, writing down some paragraphs from the textbook mindlessly. he saw the way your elbow quickly shifted, you were writing faster. your head was down too, never looking up. you were so concentrated.

he's known you for a couple of months now. you bumped into him on the way to school, and you admitted to him that you were a bit lost since you didn't live around here. satoru, being the gentleman he is, offered to escort you. you thought he was some creep (he tried reaching to hold your hand and when you jerked away on instinct, he played it off as it being the wind).

but once realising you two shared some classes together, you grew fond of him. you knew of the countless students throwing themselves at him. both older and younger. he was the school heartthrob. it's a shame though, only your smile could make his heart race like he makes others do.

when you gave him your lucky pen when he told you he didn't study and he was freaking out, you had this kind smile that made him think 'i don't want anyone else to see this but me'.

and he noticed that you awkwardly took it back from him, looking away as he clasped your hands tightly in the filled hallway and thanked you. your reactions were just the cutest...

when the bell rings, you perk up, putting your 'notes' in a suspicious looking envelope and signing it off with something. you stand up and satoru is quick to walk by your side when a classmates holds his arm to talk.

"huh?" satoru grunts, furrowed brows.

"gojo, i... i wanted to give you this." they say, holding out a teddy-bear saying 'be my valentine!'. satoru frowned when he took it. "you don't have to answer today... just let me know tomorrow, please."

as they continue to talk, he sees you exit the classroom. the letter sits comfortably in your palm, and you look left, right, before walking off. satoru is electrified.

"okay, thanks!" he says, running out of the classroom while he clutches the bear in his hands.

weaving through the crowd, he looks for the top of your head. after more and more people pass him, staring at the teddy and whispering 'who gave that to him this time?', he spots you turning the corner, a nervous look on your face. he mutters out apologies as he bumps into people heading to their next class.

the hallway you're in now is empty. you stand in front of a classroom door, waiting. notably, suguru's math class.

satoru stands at the end of the corridor, behind the corner, as the classroom door opens to reveal his best friend, geto suguru.

"suguru!" you call, smile. your shoulders are straightened, you hold the letter in front of you. not scared to show him...

"oh, y/n, hey." he responds, grinning as well. the comfortability around you two was so strange to see. "what's up?"

satoru feels like he's buzzing out. he can't hear everything you're saying, but you look a bit excited yet anxious. he hears your sweet voice speak to his best friend with such kindness that he's jealous. sure, suguru was attactive and nice and he definitely didn't feed into the popularity like satoru did, but...

why did it have to be you who was interested in him?

"please, take this." you say, handing him the same letter you had before. except this time, satoru sees the 'g.s' on it. 'geto suguru'. and you take out a box of his favourite snacks to hand to him. "thank you for everything, again. you're the best."

suguru takes it with ease, seeing how you looked at him. his gaze softens as he takes the treat as well. "you're welcome, y/n. anything you need, i'll help with." he puts the letter in his own bag before slinging am arm around your shoulders. "now, what're your plans for after?"

he was blatantly asking you out now! right after satoru told him he had feelings for you! such betrayal!

you two walk to the other end of the hallway, in the direction of your literature class. satoru slumps against the wall, furrowed brows and lips pressed into a thin line. after a second, he pushes his glasses up and lets out a slow exhale. he could get over this...

"gojo! may i please have a moment of your time?"

"wait no! me first!"

"gojo, can i talk to you?"

"please accept these!"

or maybe he couldn't.

valentines day was today and you danced into school with such confidence. you had a bouquet of flowers in your arms, chocolates of the sweetest kinds, and a bag of new perfume that you knew your crush would like.

you were so excited.

satoru, who was walking a few people behind you, was not.

he saw the amount of passion you put into the holiday, and it made him sick to know it was for his best friend. the guys was in such a bad mood, he ignored suguru and shoko's calls this morning to meet up and walk to school together like usual.

satoru clicked his tongue, thinking about how dramatic the whole valentines day idea was. really, who needed it all anyway?

in homeroom, he can hear your class (which is next to his, across the hall) start whooping and cheering when you walk in. and he knows it's you by the chants of your last name being heard. he sits in his chair in anguish.

"satoru, morning. finally." shoko says, sitting down as well. she grins, bitting the popsicle stick between her lips. "where are all of your valentines presents?"

"stuffed in my shoe locker and under my desk." he claimed, opening the top of it to showcase the blaring red and pink gifts. she picked at one pocky box, munching on the biscuits. "how about you?"

"i got a couple letters and cookies in my locker." she claims, shrugging her shoulders, "lots of 'em are from the badminton team. i don't know why."

satoru shrugs as well as soon as suguru sits down in front of him. the blue-eyed students scoffs, looking away.

"good morning, satoru." he says, noticing his friend's behaviour, "what's got his panties in a twist this morning? does he know we called him a hundred times?"

"i dunno'." shoko says, looking out the window to the school garden. "ask him."

"satoru, what's wrong? didn't get enough presents this year?" he teases, leaning in his chair to poke his head, "wake up late?"

but satoru angrily swats his hand away. the raven-haire boy blinks curiously before satoru glares at him. "why didn't you tell me you were interested in y/n?" he asks, hurt.

shoko looks back to the two boys, seeing suguru just as confused as she is. "you're into y/n?"

"what? no! who said that?" suguru retorts, hands up in defense, "i'm not interested in dating y/n, swear on my life."

"that's a lie!" satoru accuses, pointing a finger against his friend's nose, "shoko, i saw him and y/n all... all... familiar yesterday after period 2! he had his arm around them!"

"suguru..." shoko warns.

"wait wait, that's—you got it all wrong." suguru groans, now understanding. he digs through his bag and pulls out a piece of paper. "here. open it."

satoru pushes away the paper reading 'g.s'. "no way! i'm not reading y/n's love letter to you!"

"ugh! just open it!" suguru grunts, shoving it onto his desk.

satoru begrudgingly takes it and gently opens the letter, not wanting to rip it. once his eyes fall upon the page, he confirms that it's your handwriting.

'thank you for being the sweetest boy to me. i am truly honoured to know such a beautiful person, inside and out.'

satoru wants to barf.

'sitting near you in biology really helped me to understand you, satoru. you're not only a pretty face, but a world-class sweet tooth, a sucker for romantic cliches and a cologne-collector.'

satoru thinks this is the most beautiful thing he's ever read.

he contiues to read, expression changing, letting shoko and suguru understand his thoughts. the girl looks to the other boy, who shrugs his shoulders and rolls his eyes.

"i'm confused." shoko states, tilting her head.

"y/n isn't confessing to me, they're confessing—"

"y/n is confessing to me! me, satoru!" satoru exclaims, waving the letter around like a maniac. everyone else in the class was suddenly a listener, peaking at the trio. they were interested in finding out what the one confession that resulted in this reaction was. "oh my god, oh my god!"

suguru nods his head. placing a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. "yes, yes, they are. i was meant to give you the letter this morning to read before homeroom, but someone was pissy." he scoffs, shaking his head, "so i had to go and tell y/n that plans had changed."

"you... helped y/n plan this all out?" satoru mumbles, "but you didn't even know!"

shoko chuckles, staring out the window again.

"i just said i wasn't paying attention so you didn't think i was snooping. which i was. and i only told you i knew y/n so you wouldn't get any ideas, like this." suguru circles the air with his finger, deadpanning at the clueless satoru, "you think anyone would do this without definitive proof the other person liked them?"

satoru continues to read the letter you wrote for him before his eyes land on the ending. "'please meet me at the school fountain before homeroom ends.'" he murmurs out, blinking, "suguru—"

"you were meant to go two minutes ago." his friend sings out, standing in front of shoko's desk. he points out the window, much like other students were doing in their own classrooms. "you should..."

when his friends turn around to him, satoru is already one foot out of the door. he's rushing downstairs (down three flights of stairs, actually) with your letter clutched in his hand. he almost flies into a couple teachers on the way to the garden, only for their attention to be caught by students opening the windows and pointing outside.

when he rushed through the doors to the garden, you're staring at the floor, still holding the flowers and gifts you brought to school with you. taking a moment to gather himself, satoru runs fingers through his hair and fixes his glasses. the pair you've complimented a thousand times.

satoru walks closer to you and when he catches your eye, you stand up straight and smile.

"satoru." you chime, not missing the thousand pairs of eyes that were following your every move. "good morning. happy valentines day."

you hold out the flowers to him. it's set in a nice box, and the treats are in a gift bag. when you give it to him, your smile is awkward but hopeful.

"happy valentines day, y/n." he replies, taking it from you. he sits down on the fountain edge, and you follow along. "i'm so sorry, i... i don't have anything for you."

"no, no, no." you retort, grinning, "it's fine. this was a surprise for you, anyway."

he sighs, "no, i'm sorry... please, let me make it up to you."

you laugh a little, placing a hand over his on his lap. the flowers were sat on the fountain with his gifts. "sure thing." you retort, "hey, suguru told me that this morning—"

"i'm sorry, i know, i just thought..." he begins, cutting you off. he looks embarrassed, heavy blush falling over his cheeks. "i saw you and suguru yesterday and you gave him that letter. had me thinkin' you were confessing to him instead of me."

you let out a small chuckle, making him gulp, "oh my goodness, i'm sorry, i didn't mean for you to see that. we were trying to be sneaky."

satoru's chest feels lighter, and he feels better just hearing it from you. he links his fingers with yours, facing you fully.

"ah, no it's fine." he tells you, the most purest form of adoration in his eyes that you can see from the top of his slanted down glasses. you grin softly. "listen, i have had a crush on you for months... and i was hoping that you'd go out with me. i want a chance to get to know you personally, away from any prying eyes."

you peer to the side, seeing the people watching you. they were practically hanging out the window, waving their hands and fighting to view the whole scene for themselves. cameras took photos and videos, capturing your moment with him.

"i'd love that, satoru." you say, scanning his face, "you're the best."

it only takes him a single second to reach his hand out and brush his thumb agaisnt your cheek. you don't freeze up though, only relaxing into him. he was the most inviting guy you've ever met.

"can i kiss you?" he asks, voice unwavering. his blue eyes are staring at your face with such kindness that it cannot be described.

you don't even say anything, only leaaning forward and pressing your lips to his. he's smiling against your lips, gentle hand caressing your cheek. your eyes flutter shut, holding his hand tightly.

cheers erupt from the school. screams and whoops from guys and girls alike. most students are heartbroken due to the obvious confession. nobody had even gotten that close to satoru. no one has been able to hold his hand, let alone get him to go crazy over a letter. you got him to race out of that classroom like a madman, and everyone was surely surprised.

the shouts die down as the kiss deescalates, many of the students sighing as they're forced to move on from the heart-throb gojo satoru.

when you pull away, satoru chases, leaving a gentle kiss against your forehead. your smile is wide and you pinch his cheek softly.

"you're such a drama queen, satoru." you say, standing up, "i was wondering why everyone started yelling and staring at me all of a sudden."

satoru stands with his presents, rubbing the back of his neck as he holds your hand. h goes to answer when a voice is heard from the fourth floor.

"the idiot took some convincing, y/n!" suguru shouts, waving his hand, "glad to know he's got some sense in him!"

"shut up, suguru!" satoru calls back, showing his fist.

"first period is about to start, you two!" the principle says through a window on the third floor, "this is all heart-warming, but you've failed two of ms kinoshita's classes, gojo!"

"r—right!" he retorts, pacing to the school entrance as people begin to 'ooh' at him. he looks back at you, smiling the brightest. "let's go out after school today, yeah? i'll buy you as many sweets as you want."

you chuckle, kissing his cheek, "my hero."

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.

It's Inevitable

Prompt Day 4: Mistletoe | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Brief Period-Typical Homophobia | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, But Is The Town Pariah, First Kiss

The amount of eggnog Steve has requested they pick up is borderline insane. How many people is he expecting at his party tonight? Honestly. The line to checkout at the Big Buy is long, too long, and Eddie regrets offering to be the last minute errand boy.

Everybody's out in full-force stocking up for New Year's, and now it looks like he intends to drink his body weight in yellow sludge.

At least he forced Gareth into coming with him, so he isn't suffering alone.

Waiting for their turn to pay, there is a cardboard box floor display full of sprigs of mistletoe. Clearance priced and ready to move after Christmas. They've all seen better days, and are meant to be an impulse purchase to move them out the door, Unfortunately, Eddie falls for it, hook, line and sinker. He picks one up, and throws one in the top basket of the cart, and continues to wait as he glances at all the magazines, seeing what he can read for free while they're stuck in place.

"What's that for?" Gareth asks, picking up the mistletoe with two fingers, holding it outwards, like it might bite him. 

"The party," Eddie answers, "why are you acting like it's poisonous?"

"It is poisonous," Gareth answers, tossing it back into the cart, then brushes his hands against his jeans, like that will clean them, "Who are you trying to kill?"

"Sssh," Eddie hisses, looking around. It hasn't been long enough that he feels truly comfortable in town, and he definitely doesn't want killing associated with him any fucking longer. Jesus. He just wants to kiss someone. Is that too much to ask?

He doesn't think so.

"I just thought it might make the night interesting, that's all," Eddie finally answers.

"Interesting. Sure. Am I even invited to this party?" Gareth asks.

Eddie sighs, "Yes. You're invited where I'm invited, why do you keep asking that every damn time we do something with Steve?"

"He never talks to me. He only talks to you," Gareth grumbles.

"Do you want to talk to him?" Eddie asks.

"No, not really. But it might be nice to not feel invisible," he says, arms crossed, petulant.

Eddie will tell Steve to say hi or something, make the little shit happy.

The old man behind the register glares at him, which is par for the fucking course. He holds the mistletoe like Eddie is asking to use it on him, and Eddie has to bite his tongue to not be snarky, as the old asshole mumbles under his breath about Eddie being a freak, a queer, a murderer, and Eddie squeezes the handle of the cart. He's two of the three, but this asshole doesn't get to say so.

That's been the worst part of his reentry into society after barely surviving the court of public opinion. The scrutiny, the hatred, still so real that he doesn't feel comfortable being himself in town. He escaped being convicted for murders he didn't commit by the skin of his teeth, thanks to Hopper's miraculous resurrection. He knows that.

But being quiet, and non-reactive, when he feels wronged, is soul-crushing.

He doesn't snap at him, but Gareth does, and nobody is about to cast stones at Carolyn Jones' little boy, freak or not. They are part of the fabric of town, like Eddie never will be.

Gareth sassing him on Eddie's behalf is enough to not make Eddie feel so fucking kicked while he's down, and Eddie smiles as he hands over Steve Harrington's money. Knowing if the old coot knew that, he'd shit bricks.

Back at Harrington's house, Eddie pulls the small bundle out of the sack. It's stupid. He's aware it's stupid. But it gives him a chance, so he's gonna do it. 

"Is that mistletoe?" Steve asks.

"Yeah, funny, right?" 

"For sure, I wonder what weird pairings of people we can lure under there?"

There's only one weird pairing Eddie cares about, and they are both standing right here, right now.

"I don't know, but I'm sure Gareth would appreciate being set up under here with someone cute."

Eddie drags over one of the dining room chairs, and makes sure he takes off his shoes so Mrs. Harrington doesn't see shoeprints if she ever comes home.

"You got a pushpin?" Eddie asks, and Steve disappears to find one. When he turns back up, Eddie loops the ribbon through, and stands on his tiptoes.

He can't quite reach. Fucking vaulted ceilings in rich people houses.

Steve laughs, "Let me get the step ladder." 

Eddie stands there looking at the door frame.

Steve climbs the ladder, and takes the mistletoe from Eddie's hand. And Eddie watches as Steve stretches upwards, pressing the sharp end of the tack into the wood. A sliver of his hairy belly showing as his sweater rides up.

The sweater is red, and looks so soft. Eddie wants to touch it. Touch him.

Steve lowers his arms and then they're just looking at each other.

Steve breaks their eye contact, and comes down one step, readjusting his shirt.

Then they're eye-to-eye again, and Eddie swallows. Shit.

"Well, huh, would you look at that?" Steve says, so fucking smooth that Eddie misses his meaning.

"Look at what?" Eddie asks, because all he can look at is Steve.

"We're standing under mistletoe. Wonder how that got there?"

And then Steve's leaning forward, using his smooth fucking lines on Eddie, and all Eddie can think is that he really shouldn't be doing this off the ground. He's liable to fall and crack open his skull.

But Steve slides his arm over Eddie's shoulder, moving to both pull him closer and keep him secure, as Steve's lips press against Eddie's.

Holy shit.

Eddie kisses back, and hopes that this isn't just Steve being silly. Hoping that maybe this was a mutual good excuse to get this ball rolling.

The moment Steve's tongue touches Eddie's, he knows it isn't a joke.

It's inevitable.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun! 🌿

[luveline]

jade!! I come on hands and knees begging for more rockstar!remus with shy!reader. I LOVE THEM. how are they doing?!

thank you for requesting! fem, 1k

You fit the part, tonight. Marlene has dressed you in her clothes —you wear a dark jacket covered in gothic, skeletal linework, a skirt barely long enough to show beneath it, with black tights and tall shoes. 

Remus isn’t sure what it is about the slightly too big jacket that he likes so much. Maybe it’s your thighs on show, shadowed flanks of softness he knows too well. It could be your eyes, their ringing of dark kohl, your lengthened lashes. Perhaps it’s none of those things. After all, Remus has always loved to watch you laugh. 

James thrusts his pint against yours, a splash of his cherry cider lapping the end of the cup to seep into your lemonade. Remus is unsure if there’s anything in it of substance, but you sip it through a breathless laugh and confirm that it hasn’t changed. No harm, no foul. 

Remus taps his cigarette carton against the table out of habit. Sirius reaches for him before Remus has even split the seal, fingers pinching, pale hand expectant. Remus knocks into them with the carton and turns so Sirius can’t see him opening the box. “Thought you were off them?” Remus asks, quiet with the slower atmosphere at the table, so far from the bar. 

“Can anyone ever really be off them?” Sirius asks. 

He pressed himself into Remus’ arm, all the overfamiliarity of a best, best friend. Searching for comfort and selfish vices. 

Remus hugs him suddenly, a rough arm around the back of his head in a hold that tugs curls as he uses the other hand to slide a cigarette between his lips. “Here, you baby.”

“Fuck off,” Sirius says around it. 

Remus takes his own cigarette and shoves the box back in his pocket. Sirius lights his own, lights Remus’, and together they tip their heads back, getting a glance at the oranging ceiling and the upstairs drinking pit. 

“She’s sweet, letting Marl dress her up a bit.” 

“Makes Marlene feel better,” Remus says. 

“Yeah, it does. Reckon she and Mary will mend it?” 

Remus shrugs. The love triangle between Mary, Marlene and Dorcas is confusing. He loves them, though, so it’s a confusing he understands. “It won't be long before we find out.” 

You, James and Emmeline begin to make your way back to the table. You have two drinks each, too many for the amount of people, though none of you seem to have noticed. You’re just giggling and meandering around low chairs until you get there. 

James slams his drinks down and grabs you from the side. “My sweethearts, I return the sweethearts.” 

“Can I have one?” Emmeline asks. 

Remus passes her the cigarette carton dutifully. 

“Can I–”

“No,” Remus says. 

You squint at him. “Don’t be weird,” you say, embarrassed, taking the box when Emme passes it, sliding it between painted lips, “I’m not a baby.” 

You talk around the cigarette with the ease of practice. If there’s one thing life on the road gives, it’s addiction. Remus is thankful that you and all of your friends chose nicotine. 

“You’re trying to quit.” Remus feels the funny burn of smoke as he inhales again. “And I’m trying to help you.” 

“Same help you gave Sirius, clearly,” James says. 

“C’mere,” Remus says, opening his arm for you. “Come on.” 

You grin and weave around Emme to his side of the table, propping a drink in front of him. “For you.” 

“Thank you.” He blows smoke as far from your face as he can manage and tucks you under his arm. 

The makeup on your lips is rubbing off, a darker outlining with light insides, but it’s enough to express Marl’s taste. Remus will be happy to kiss the rest of it away later on, when James and Sirius are drunk enough to become openly obsessed with one another and leave him alone, carving out some rare alone time. 

You smoke as Remus taught you to. He remembers the day, your shaking, his chest pain, not wanting to corrupt you and yet enlivened by the way you looked trying to foster the flame at the end of it. Nicotine helps calm your nerves, which you’re often in need of, but Remus never meant for it to become a crux. He snuffs his cigarette in the ashtray and catches yours to do the same, barely two puffs in. 

“Wha–”

“Let me have a look at you,” he says. 

Your friends scoff and jeer but quickly move on. Remus catches your chin between his fingers. 

He’s not like Sirius. He couldn’t do this to any girl, can’t seduce like that, but it’s not any girl he touches. Your eyes go to swimming pleasure as he pulls you forward, edging downward to kiss you. You both taste of smoke, of drink, and it would put him off if there wasn’t something sweeter to be chased in your mouth. He kisses you like there’s no one at the table but you.

He’s had more to drink than he thinks. 

“You taste like jaeger,” you say, pulling away with cheeks he’d find hot if he were to cradle and a shy smile. 

“Do I?” 

“That’s a thousand times worse for you than those, you know.” You point at his quickly dwindling pack of cigarettes. 

Remus curls an arm behind your neck and kisses you again. James cheers, says, “Fuck, I wish Moony kissed me like that,” and Remus tries his best to ignore him, but you’re laughing. The kiss breaks.

“Just ask him nicely like I do,” you advise. 

“You know that doesn’t work!” James says, tipping his head back with a hand to the forehead. “I always ask him nicely, he just doesn’t want to kiss me. Must be something about you…” He gives a huge smile as he lifts his cider.  “Something I don’t have?” 

“Impossible,” Sirius says blithely, “you’ve everything, gorgeous boy.” 

“Something about you,” Remus echoes. 

You shake your head minutely, a silent warning. Don’t flirt with me, it says. Don’t torture me. 

“How do you want the answer?” Remus asks, sliding his arm back behind your shoulders, pulling your burning face against his neck. “I can give it to you in an essay or a list, but it’s an extensive explanation.” 

“Write it down for me.”

[eightstarr]

what's mine — ellie williams.

summary: the day you left for this assignment, ellie remembers thinking it would be okay— or maybe it was you who said it, your hands over her tense shoulders, her fingers tugging at your shirt, “you’ll be okay.” she goes home and knows it to be true, like words from a god. she’ll be okay and you’ll be back. what’s left to do but count the hours?

warnings: descriptions of violence (not very detailed), suggestive content near the end!

notes: uhhh i love being dramatic and i think it shows here. all i think about is the action of coming home to someone who loves you and how it is as meaningful now as it was a thousand years ago and as it will be in a hundred years but whatever haha sorry about that guys. if you read this i love you btw

don't support zionist neil druckmann.

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・。.・゜✧・. ────

Being without Ellie is disorienting. The first week feels like walking alone in a dark room, feeling the walls for a light switch, running into sharp corners that stab your sides. You miss her like it's a sickness, less a longing and more a threat to whatever you’re made of.

There's a small community way outside of Jackson offering a trade. Maria makes it sound simple, like everything else. “They know us, it’ll be quick. You pick up the supplies, drop off our part of the deal, and come back.”

It takes 26 days. The exchange is simple but the journey less so, you and three others have to carry home the much needed medical supplies through herds of infected and a heavy storm that slows you down and cuts off your communication for three terrifying nights.

Ellie wanders the house and feels like a stranger, sickly, a sleepless corpse searching for living blood. The light coming through the windows feels too bright and her skin abnormally cold. She knows, or thinks, that if she’s not careful she could get lost in it— merge every wall together until there’s nothing left to see but a stark flatness, an unfamiliar box. The space is not huge. It's not a tall castle or a manor in the countryside or anything fitting to the theatricality of loneliness, but it’s your home. So much of you is in it. Ellie finds herself focusing on a different thing each passing day, clinging to them with a nauseating desperation, a hundred random pieces of you scattered like breadcrumbs to keep her sane. A book with a folded corner somewhere along the first half of the story, your favorite mug next to the sink, an old pair of jeans ripped at the knee on your side of the drawer. Too many things for you not to come back.

“Do you think I'm losing my mind?” she asks, a soft wrinkle between her furrowed brows, her eyes focused on a random spot ahead. “I mean, it’s been two weeks,” she’s trying to sound like it's not as bad as it looks, like she finds any of it funny or interesting instead of plainly horrifying. The sole of her shoes hits the floor in an anxious rhythm, mocking her— tap, tap, tap, tap. “Isn’t that fucked up?”

Dina curses at the lighter until it flickers back to life with a weak orange flame, holding it near the end of the half finished blunt. She inhales and passes it over, breathing out, “You’re not crazy.”

A pause. Ellie lets the comment comfort her for a single second before it flies right through her head, sounding more quiet than usual when she admits, “...I have this feeling like someone took something from me.”

Dina raises her eyebrows, her chuckle cut off by a short cough, smoke itching her throat. “You mean, like… what’s her name?” she squints her eyes and tries to remember. 

The name worms around Ellie’s head like it has been for days, bold letters, clear as day. She makes no attempt to let it pass through her lips, self aware and unrelenting at the same time, maybe finding some indefensible satisfaction in the fact that it can be forgotten. Cruel, you'd tease, and Ellie would smirk a lot like she tries not to now.

Dina gives up a second later, “Whatever— the girl that volunteered to go with them before you could. You're blaming her?”

“I guess.”

“Hm. That’s a little…”

“Don’t say crazy—”

“Crazy.”

“Fuck you,” she rolls her eyes. “It’s not like that.”

“So you’re not jealous?”

Ellie scoffs, tongue pressed against the inside of her cheek. Dina argues unlike anyone else. She’s confident, her goal clear and her strategy already lined up before you get a word in, loaded like a gun. But her strongest contender, perhaps the only one, might be Ellie’s simple stubbornness. “I’m concerned. She got picked over me even though I've studied that route a hundred fucking times. I could've done a better job,” she says, steady and tireless like bulletproof glass.

“At getting the supplies or at taking care of your girlfriend?”

“You’re starting to sound like Maria.”

Dina pauses for a short moment before she shrugs. “Maria makes good points.”

Ellie takes one last hit of the blunt and flicks it across the room to die out somewhere on the permanently damp floor. She tries to believe it. No one took you, she thinks, you left dutifully like anyone else in Jackson would've, like Ellie would've. It’s a dangerous trip but a job like any other, the same risk of deadly infection that comes with any of them. She should be used to it by now. Does it not also exist every other day of the year?

Still, she can't remember the last time she didn't see your face for this long. You’ve been dating for a little over three years, living together for half of that— it's a terrifyingly meaningful chunk of your young lives, months and months of seeing you everyday, of falling asleep with her face on the crook of your neck and waking up with your fingers pressing into her waist. You've built a world where things like this don’t happen, where all Ellie can think about as she leaves home is the way you hum in the mornings, soft and sleepy and so fucking cute, when you wake up to her back against your chest and her hair on your face. She thinks about her own laugh, how shy it sounds, how your lips press to her head before she turns around to claim a proper kiss.

But now you’re not here, and she’s too terrified to even utter the words out loud, and there's a hole in her chest where you should be that makes her feel insane everywhere she goes. It's an open wound leaving a hazardous trail of shame and memories, humming in her ears like a boiling kettle, who took what's mine?

Ellie has never considered herself to be the jealous type, but she never was the type to sleep with her back turned to someone this comfortably, either. It’s different with you. It's theatricality, it’s the coldness of that bed at night, it’s your legs tangled with hers like growing roots now disjointed. It’s a thing, breathing and alive, screaming at nothing— I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.

Is that girl you went with hanging from your every word in that way she always does? Is that a shameful thought to have? Ellie wipes it clean in a second and finds it immediately there again, at the front of her mind like a message on a cloudy mirror. She can't think about anything else. Is the storm keeping the two of you awake? Does a part of you find the girl brave for volunteering? Is she turning to look at you and asking, just loud enough, are you asleep? That fall earlier was rough, how are you feeling? Is she looking at your wounds like they matter more than doing a good job? Is your blood, warm and red and yours, on her hands now?

The last of the smoke spills past her lips in a sigh. Ellie pulls her knees closer to her chest and tugs at the loose thread on your ripped jeans.

─────✧･ﾟ: *✧･

There’s a comfortable weight that keeps you under, the loving press of her arm resting over your chest, her thumb brushing your chin. The sun feels warm where it’s draped across Ellie’s back, white tank top wrinkled slightly up her waist.

She watches you until you let out a little sigh, squint one eye open and then slowly the next, a smile stretching your lips as soon as your sight focuses on her. She looks beautiful. She looks just like she did before you left, your girl.

It’s weird— you’ve showered, scrubbed your hands clean and raw, changed clothes. And still you feel like you’ve brought in something dirty, like it’ll be stuck on you for a while, the grime, the guns, the storm. Your muddy shoes must still be sitting by the front door. Something in your head screams that you should get rid of them, burn them like an evidence of guilt. Do you look anything like you did before you left? You feel like a worn version of yourself, sticky and darkened. It’s a ridiculous worry to have, but the thought comes hand in hand with embarrassment and you can feel it crawling up your neck. You cover your face with your hands and groan tiredly, shy.

Ellie laughs, warm like musk, salve on a wound.

"Are you watching me sleep?" you mutter, voice ridden with exhaustion and joy all at once. The thing, love, obsession, both— breathes along with you. "Freak."

"Yeah, I was,” she shifts to sit on your lap, one knee on either side of you, spilling her confession easily. Ellie leans over to push your hands away from your face and press her lips to yours, passionate but short lived, still softly brushing against each other when she says, "I missed this face."

You chuckle, eyes tracing over her freckled cheeks, hands squeezing her thighs, feeling strangely like you’re being washed clean. “I missed you.”

Ellie closes her eyes and rests her forehead against yours, her fingers caressing your cheeks, looking at you again when her thumb brushes against the ridge of a scar. It’s a warped line that almost follows the shape of your cheekbone, from your hairline to somewhere near the corner of your lips. She'd seen it last night, nauseous with worry and relief to have you back, her vision clouded. The morning reveals it in a different, heartbreaking light. It’s okay, you’d said during the night, your hands on either side of her face much like hers are on you now, didn't even need stitches. Ellie tries to let that sink in, make the guilt feel any better. But it can't. Maybe you’d been saved the prick of a needle, but she knows it still hurt, she knows it bled and stung. It feels like a betrayal. If I can't save you the pain, she thinks, I owe you the witnessing, the chance to clean its wry edges, pat it dry. "How'd you get this one?" she asks, as softly as she can.

You’d been prepared for the question but not the devastation in her eyes. It falls over you like a ton of bricks, her love making your chest ache and sinking you back into the memory.

There was an empty house, or what looked like one. Pieces of broken glass scattered over the rotting wood of an old, wobbly table. A man's hand placed forcefully on your head. The side of your face rammed into the table with a thud when he pushed you down, the faint pain of something slicing into your cheek made worse by your struggle to get free. A kick and he stumbled back. A slice of your knife and he fell dead. You don't think the fact will do much to comfort Ellie. So, in hopes of sparing her, you hum and shake your head. "Come here," you say, or beg, a hand on the back of her neck like fond guidance. "Let me kiss your pretty face."

She feels soft like satin on your lips, tastes like honey and black tea. Ellie kisses like she argues, experienced and unruly all at once, with a point to make— I need you and I want you to know it. Her tongue slips past your parted lips and brings a muffled sound from your throat that almost makes her pull slightly away, if it weren't for the feeling of your fingers tightening on her neck to have her closer. A faint thought crosses Ellie’s mind, a feeling like pity for the person she was before you, whoever that was, an old self who couldn't know what it's like to be devoured so caringly.

She brushes her nose against yours and you let out a sigh that sounds painfully like a prayer, her short hair a dark veil over your eyes when she turns her head to press kisses on your cheek. "You can't leave me like that again," she breathes out.

You swallow her words, a confused wrinkle between your eyebrows. “Ellie—”

A kiss cuts you off. You slide your hands up her thighs to her waist, a surprised hum vibrating against her lips when she wraps her fingers around your wrists and squeezes, as if to keep them there. She leans back and stares into you, and for the first time since you’ve known Ellie, you can't tell if she's commanding you or begging. “I won’t let you.”

It’s a gesture. It goes beyond the reality of your lives, the fact that any day either one of you could be made to leave again, that any day either one of you could die. It means I missed you. It means I need it to be me who looks after you. It means I love you.

Your stomach flutters, hungry with an urgent craving. And like you have every day since you’ve known Ellie, you find yourself unable to deny her love or the indulging promise of a different world— but maybe those mean the same thing. "I'm not leaving you," you say, breathless, and it might as well be true.

Ellie makes a sound in response that feels painfully close to a moan, a soft mmhm that clouds your head of anything that may or may not exist outside of this room. The tip of her nose brushes against your neck and then continues its way down, her fingers sneaking inside your shirt, pulling up the fabric and pressing kisses over the skin that’s revealed. "I love you," she says, almost near the band of your underwear, her blushed lips parted. You feel her breath against the burning fire in your lower stomach, reaching out to cradle her cheek against your hand. She feels hot, flushed pink under her freckles, and you’re not sure if she hears you say I love you, Ellie as much as she watches you mouth the words. She presses her face further into your hand, wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue, begging as if she’d ever have to, “Baby, I need— please.”

You don't hear yourself say yes, but the look in her eyes says you must have.