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elliesbabygirl · 1 month ago

Text

ch. 002 ⇄ ch.003; 10:36 - Beabadoobee

"You don't need me, as much as I need you"

my masterlist.

word count: 5.0k words

Series synopsis: friends with benefits, that's what ellie wanted. yet, she can't let you go, even after the messy 'breakup' between the two of you.

Warnings: mentions of drinking + implication of a character being high, mentions of blood + two characters physically fighting, swearing, crying, snot, and kissing. 🚶‍♂️‍➡️ft. mama bear dina fighting for you..

author's note: okay, was ch. 002 fire or was it firee?? 🔥I'm so glad people liked ch. 002 and you might've noticed that ch. 003 is a bit lengthy but that's because, I couldn't find a 'safe' spot to end the ch. on so I ended up writing way more than I intended to for ch. 003😭+ so if you see some wonky parts... Just know i was tweaking out tryna end this ch. (Not proofread..)

The restaurant was warm, dimly lit, the kind of place that had candles on every table and soft jazz playing just loud enough to make everything feel intimate. The kind of place meant for real dates—ones that actually required effort.

And Abby had definitely put in effort.

She looked good. Black button-up, sleeves rolled just enough to show off her forearms. Relaxed, confident, completely at ease. She had insisted on picking the place, made sure the reservation was set, and even ordered a bottle of wine before you had a chance to glance at the menu.

Now, sitting across from her, glass in hand, you couldn’t help but be impressed.

“You know,” you mused, sipping the wine in your glass, “when you asked me out, I wasn’t expecting this.”

Abby smirked, taking a sip of her own drink. “Oh yeah? What were you expecting?”

You hummed, pretending to think. “I don’t know, omething more… casual. A café, maybe. Bar food. Not—” you gestured around the restaurant, “—a place that has like, five different kinds of steak on the menu.”

Abby chuckled. “What can I say? I like to go all in.”

“Clearly.” You glanced at the menu again, shaking your head. “I feel underdressed.”

“You look great,” Abby said without hesitation.

Your cheeks warmed, but you played it off, shifting your attention back to her. “So, is this your usual move? Fancy restaurants, expensive wine, charming conversation?”

Abby raised a brow. “You think I’m charming?”

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling. “Answer the question.”

Abby leaned back in her chair, shrugging. “Honestly? I don’t do this often, dating, I mean.”

You tilted your head. “Really? Thought someone like you would have people lining up.”

Abby huffed a small laugh. “I mean, sure, I’ve been on dates. But most people assume I’m just some gym rat who only talks about protein intake and deadlifts.”

You smirked. “I was gonna ask about your max bench, but I didn’t want to scare you off.”

Abby chuckled. “Two-thirty.”

Your brows shot up. “Damn.”

She grinned. “Impressed?”

“A little,” you admitted, sipping your wine. “I can barely do a push-up.”

Abby laughed. “I can fix that.”

“I’ll pass,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I’m more of a ‘stay in and read for fun’ kind of person.”

Abby perked up at that. “Oh yeah? What do you read?”

You hesitated, eyeing her carefully. “Promise you won’t judge?”

Abby smirked. “No promises.”

You sighed dramatically. “Philosophy.”

Abby blinked. “Like… old-ass philosophy?”

You laughed. “Yes, old-ass philosophy. Nietzsche, Camus, Sartre.”

Abby shook her head, amused. “So, while I’m lifting weights, you’re sitting around questioning the meaning of life?”

“Pretty much,” you said, grinning. “Balance, right?”

Abby chuckled, shaking her head. “That’s actually kind of cool.”

You raised a brow. “You don’t have to lie to impress me, you know.”

“I’m serious,” Abby said, leaning forward slightly. “I like that we’re different, you think about shit I never even consider. That’s kinda nice.”

You held her gaze, heart skipping a beat at the genuine look in her eyes.

You liked this, the ease of it. The way she could tease but still be sincere. The way her confidence never felt overbearing, just natural, like she was comfortable in her own skin.

And, most of all, you liked how—just for tonight—you weren’t thinking about anyone else.

The food arrived, and the conversation never lost its rhythm. The ease between you and Abby felt natural—effortless, even.

“So,” Abby mused, twirling her fork between her fingers as she watched you across the table. “Since we’re already talking about personal stuff—what’s your relationship history like?”

You huffed a small laugh, picking at your plate. “Going right for it, huh?”

Abby grinned, leaning her elbow on the table. “What? I like knowing what I’m getting into.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Not much to tell, really.”

Abby raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

You sighed, setting your fork down. “I mean, I’ve dated, had a few relationships, nothing too wild. The last one was… complicated.”

Abby caught the slight hesitation in your voice. The way you glanced at your drink like you were considering whether to keep talking.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Abby said, voice softer now. “I don’t mind complicated.”

You exhaled, shifting in your seat. “Let’s just say… we weren’t on the same page. I wanted something real, and she—” You hesitated, then shook your head. “She didn’t.”

Abby’s expression flickered for a second, like she knew exactly what you meant.

“That sucks,” she said simply.

You let out a small, dry laugh. “Yeah, kinda does.”

Abby studied you for a moment, fingers drumming lightly against her wine glass. Then, with a smirk, she said, “For what it’s worth—I noticed you way before we talked at the café.”

Your brows lifted slightly. “Oh?”

Abby nodded, grinning. “Yeah. First day of class, you sat a couple rows in front of me. I remember thinking you were cute, but I figured you had someone waiting for you already.”

You scoffed. “What, just because I actually pay attention in class?”

Abby chuckled. “No, because you just… seemed like someone who would be taken.”

Something warm bloomed in your chest, but you kept your voice light. “Guess you were wrong.”

“Guess so,” Abby murmured, her gaze lingering on your lips for just a second before flickering back up to your eyes.

Your stomach flipped.

“You?” you asked, trying to ignore the way your pulse picked up. “What’s your dating history like?”

Abby shrugged, taking a sip of her wine. “Had a couple serious relationships. Some flings. Nothing really stuck, though. Not because I didn’t want it to, but because I never found someone worth fighting for, you know?”

You nodded, swirling your wine absentmindedly. “Yeah. I get that.”

Abby tilted her head, still watching you. “Think you’re someone worth fighting for?”

The question sent a jolt through you. Your lips parted slightly, caught off guard, but before you could answer, Abby smirked.

“I think you are,” she said, voice smooth, confident.

Your breath hitched.

Abby leaned back, slightly man-spreading on her side of the booth. Still smirking like she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Finish your wine,” she said, nodding at your glass. “I’m not done learning about you yet.”

And for the first time in a while, you wanted someone to learn.

The date had flown by. Hours melted away between laughter, lingering glances, and easy conversation that made it impossible to tell when one topic ended and the next began.

Now, the night air was cool against your skin as Abby walked you up to your dorm, hands in her pockets, her usual confidence softened by the lingering warmth of the evening.

“Alright,” she said, leaning casually against your doorframe, smirking. “Be honest—best date you’ve ever had, or best date you’ve ever had?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh, so those are my only two options?”

Abby grinned. “Yup, pick wisely.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway. “Okay, fine. Best date I’ve ever had.”

Abby chuckled, shaking her head as she watched you laugh, a soft grin tugging at her lips. “You know,” she mused, voice lower now, “you looked really good tonight.”

Your laughter faltered slightly, warmth creeping up your neck. “Oh?”

Abby nodded, eyes flickering over you in quiet admiration. “Yeah. I mean, you always do, but… tonight? You’re kinda killing me here.”

Your breath hitched slightly at the way she was looking at you—like you were something worth taking your time with. The space between you felt smaller now, the cool air of the dormitory hallway charged with something heavier, something unspoken.

Neither of you moved at first, but then, almost subconsciously, you both leaned in just slightly, like gravity was pulling you closer—

“Didn’t think you’d actually fall for this shit.”

Your stomach dropped.

Ellie.

You turned just in time to see her strolling down the hallway, hood up, hands stuffed into her jacket pockets. Her eyes were red-rimmed, pupils slightly blown—was she high? And worse? She looked pissed.

Abby immediately straightened, her playful expression fading into something unreadable.

Ellie scoffed, looking you over before her gaze flickered to Abby. “This is what we’re doing now? Her?”

Your jaw clenched. “Ellie—”

Oh my god.

But Ellie wasn’t looking at you anymore. She was looking at Abby, lips curling into a smirk that didn’t reach her eyes. “Damn, man. Didn’t peg you for the type to pick up rebounds.”

Abby’s expression remained cool, but there was something sharp in her eyes now. “Didn’t peg you for the type to throw a fit over your ex moving on.”

Ellie let out a low laugh, shaking her head. “You don’t know shit.”

“Yeah?” Abby challenged, crossing her arms. “I know you’re standing here, high as hell, trying to start shit because you can’t handle the fact that you fucked up and now she doesn’t want you anymore.”

Abby could practically smell the remains of a smoking session off of Ellie.

Ellie’s entire body tensed. “Shut the fuck up.”

Abby didn’t flinch. “Why? Because I’m right?”

Ellie’s hands curled into fists at her sides. “You think she actually wants you? You think she’s gonna stick around? Please.” She scoffed, shaking her head. “She’s too good for you. She’s too good for anyone.”

Abby’s expression flickered, something softer crossing her face before she squared her shoulders. “That’s what you’re mad about, huh?” She took a slow step closer. “You know she deserves better than you. You know it, and now you can’t stand the idea of someone else treating her the way you should have.”

Ellie’s jaw tightened.

“You never even tried to be what she needed,” Abby continued, voice low, unwavering. “And now that she’s with someone who actually wants her, all you can do is stand here and act like a fucking child about it.”

Ellie’s restraint snapped.

She shoved Abby hard, sending her a step back into the doorframe. “Shut the fuck up, Anderson.”

Abby barely stumbled, hands immediately coming up as she glared at Ellie. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

Ellie let out a humorless laugh. “What? Gonna fight me?”

Abby exhaled sharply through her nose, muscles tense. “I don’t fight people who are too wasted to think straight.”

Ellie smirked bitterly. “Sounds like an excuse.”

Abby rolled her eyes. “Sounds like you’re pathetic.”

That was it.

Ellie swung first.

It wasn’t a clean hit—she was too high for that—but her fist still clipped Abby’s jaw, sending her a step back.

Before you could even process what happened, Abby lunged forward, grabbing Ellie by the collar of her jacket and shoving her hard against the wall.

“Are you serious right now?” Abby growled, fists clenched in Ellie’s hoodie. “This is what you wanna do?”

Ellie’s lip curled. “Get off me.”

“You are so fucking lucky I don’t knock you out right now,” Abby muttered, shoving Ellie away roughly before stepping back, shaking out her hands like she was trying to calm herself down.

Ellie barely stumbled as Abby shoved her back, but her hands were already curling into fists again. Her heart was pounding, blood roaring in her ears, every inch of her burning with something she couldn’t name—jealousy, anger, regret.

Abby wiped at her jaw, rolling her shoulders like she was ready for more. “you done, yet?” she taunted, voice steady, unbothered.

Ellie snapped.

She threw another punch, aiming for Abby’s face, but this time, Abby dodged, catching Ellie’s wrist before twisting her arm back sharply.

“Fuck—” Ellie hissed, trying to yank herself free.

Abby didn’t let go. “You wanna act tough?” she growled. “Fine. Let’s see how tough you really are.”

Then she shoved Ellie hard, sending her staggering back into the opposite wall.

Ellie gritted her teeth, shoving herself forward, slamming her shoulder into Abby’s ribs, forcing her back against the doorframe. Abby grunted, but before she could recover, Ellie swung again, fist connecting hard with Abby’s cheek.

Abby barely flinched.

Instead, she grabbed Ellie by the collar and threw her to the ground.

“Jesus fuck!” Ellie grunted as she hit the floor, her vision swimming for a moment as she tried to land another punch on Abby’s face.

“Ellie, stop!”

Your voice barely cut through the noise.

Ellie groaned, pushing herself up, blood dripping from a fresh cut on her brow. Abby loomed over her, chest heaving, a dark bruise already blooming across her jaw.

“is this what you wanted?�� Abby spat, wiping at her lip, smearing blood across the back of her hand. “You think this makes you better?”

Ellie glared up at her, breathing heavy, fists still clenched. “This is your fucking fault!” she snapped, voice hoarse. “You think you’re some fucking hero, swooping in to save her? You don’t even fucking know her!”

Abby scoffed, rolling her sore shoulder. “Right, because you did such a great job at loving her, huh? If you actually gave a shit, she wouldn’t have needed to move on!”

Ellie’s jaw clenched so tightly it ached. “Fuck you.”

“Stop it!”

Your voice cracked, and suddenly, the rage between them was cut through by something worse.

Humiliation.

Ellie’s chest was still heaving, her body buzzing with adrenaline, but when she turned to look at you—really look at you—she felt something sink deep in her stomach.

You were crying.

Right there, in the middle of the goddamn dorm hallway, your face was twisted in frustration, eyes filled with tears—not just from anger, but from something rawer.

Shame.

“This—” You took a shaky breath, pressing your fingers to your temples. “This whole thing is so fucking embarrassing.”

Abby wiped her bleeding lip, shifting uncomfortably.

Ellie swallowed hard, something sharp catching in her throat.

But the damage was done.

You didn’t say anything else. Didn’t bother to bid Abby goodbye, and definitely didn’t bother to spare another glance at Ellie.

You walked inside your dorm, slamming the door shut behind you.

Ellie wiped at the blood trickling from her brow, glaring up at Abby with nothing but spite. “Look at what you fucking did,” she spat, voice raw. “You made her cry. Nice fucking job, hero.”

Abby scoffed, shaking her head. “Me? You’re the one who started this shit because you couldn’t handle seeing her happy with someone else.” She exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair before muttering, “Pathetic.”

Ellie clenched her jaw but didn’t argue. She just let out a bitter laugh, turned on her heel, and stalked off down the hall, shoulders tense, hands shoved deep into her pockets.

Abby stood there for a moment, rolling her aching jaw before turning towards your door.

She hesitated, guilt settling deep in her chest. Then, slowly, she raised a hand and knocked—soft, careful, like she was afraid to make things worse.

“Hey,” she said, voice lower now, more hesitant. “I know you probably don’t want to hear from me right now, but… I’m sorry. I didn’t want tonight to end like this.”

Silence.

Abby sighed, letting her head rest briefly against the doorframe before stepping back. “Just… let me know you’re okay.”

She waited a second longer.

But the door never opened.

Abby sighed, pressing her palm flat against the door for a second before knocking again, softer this time. “Come on,” she murmured. “Just open the door for a second. I just wanna make sure you’re alright.”

Abby exhaled, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re okay.”

Silence, again.

Then, barely above a whisper, she heard you from the other side of the door.

“I’m… I’m sorry about Ellie,” you croaked, voice thick, the wet sound of phlegm caught in your throat. You sniffled, probably rubbing at your already raw eyes. “She shouldn’t have—she was just—” You cut yourself off with a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.”

Abby’s chest ached. “Hey, don’t—don’t apologize for her, okay?” Her voice was quiet, pleading. “That’s not on you.”

More silence.

Abby exhaled, pressing her forehead against the door. “Please, just open the door.”

A beat.

Then, slowly, she heard the lock click.

When the door cracked open, the sight of you knocked the wind out of her.

Your red, puffy eyes, your runny nose, the way your lips trembled as you finally met her gaze—Abby had been so caught up in the fight, in Ellie, that she hadn’t even realized how much it had all taken out of you.

But then, your eyes darted over her face, and you gasped.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, eyes wide with horror.

Abby blinked, confused for half a second before she remembered—her cheek.

She could feel the swelling now, the way the bruise was already blooming across her skin, hot and tender. The split in her bottom lip still bled, a faint coppery taste lingering in her mouth.

“Shit, Abby,” you choked out, your fingers twitching at your sides, like you wanted to reach for her but didn’t know if you should.

Abby shrugged it off, offering a weak smile. “You should see the other guy.”

You didn’t laugh.

Instead, you swallowed hard, stepping aside.

Abby didn’t hesitate. She walked in, shutting the door behind her, eyes still on you.

“Hey,” she said, voice softer now. “I’m sorry for the fight. I didn’t mean for tonight to go like that.”

You let out a shaky breath, rubbing at your arms like you were trying to hold yourself together.

Abby took a cautious step closer. “I don’t want you to regret tonight, the date.”

Your lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

So Abby did the only thing she could—she reached out, gently, brushing her fingers over your wrist, grounding you in the moment.

“I got you,” she murmured. “I promise.”

You sniffled, eyes still locked on Abby’s face, your expression shifting from exhaustion to quiet concern. “You should see a doctor,” you murmured, voice hoarse. “Or at least go to the emergency room.”

Abby let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head. “I’m fine.”

You’re not fine, Abby.” You gestured at her bruised cheek, at the split in her lip that was still bleeding. “You’re literally bleeding.”

Abby shrugged, offering a lopsided smile. “I’ve had worse.”

You stared at her, unimpressed. “That’s not reassuring.”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Look, I promise, I’m okay. I just—” Her voice softened. “I didn’t come in to just make you worry about me.”

“it's too late for that,” you muttered, crossing your arms.

Abby watched as you chewed on your lip, debating something in your head before exhaling sharply. “At least let me clean you up,” you said, voice firm. “And put some ice on your face.”

Abby hesitated, but when you looked at her like that—tired, puffy-eyed, but still worrying about her—she couldn’t bring herself to say no.

“Yeah,” she murmured, voice quieter now. “Okay.”

You nodded, turning towards your kitchen to grab some tissues and a water bottle, already shifting into caretaker mode. Abby just watched you move, something tight settling in her chest.

Abby sat on the couch in your dorm’s small living room, legs spread slightly apart, hands resting on her thighs as she let you tend to her. The air between you was quiet, thick with something unspoken, but you didn’t acknowledge it. You just focused on the task at hand.

You crouched slightly in front of her, a damp tissue pressed gently to her bottom lip, wiping away the drying blood with careful, featherlight strokes. Your free hand rested on her cheek, keeping her still as you worked, fingers cool against the warmth of her bruising skin.

Abby exhaled softly, barely noticing the sting from the contact. She wasn’t thinking about the pain anymore.

She was thinking about you.

The way your brows furrowed slightly in concentration, the way your lips parted ever so slightly as you focused. The way you were touching her—gentle, careful, like she wasn’t someone who had just thrown a punch at your sour ex, nearly an hour ago.

Her gaze flickered from your hands to your lips, then back up to your eyes.

And before Abby could stop herself, she leaned in.

Her hand moved instinctively, coming up to cup your right cheek, fingers grazing your skin as she closed the space between you. Her lips met yours—soft, hesitant at first, like she was giving you the chance to pull away.

You froze, the tissue slipping from your fingers, landing soundlessly between the two of you.

For a moment, all you could do was breathe.

Then, slowly, you melted into her.

Your hands slid up, arms wrapping around her neck as you deepened the kiss, pressing closer, tilting your head just enough to match her movements.

Abby inhaled sharply against your lips, her fingers tightening ever so slightly on your cheek before sliding back, threading into your hair.

The tension of the night, the fight, the bruises, the words left unsaid—it all melted away as she kissed you like she had been waiting for this all night.

The kiss deepened, slow and unhurried, yet charged with something that neither of you had fully acknowledged before now. Abby’s hand trailed from your cheek down to your jaw, her fingertips grazing the sensitive skin there before sliding to the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t stop her. Instead, you shifted forward, pressing into her, your body molding against hers as your fingers curled into the fabric of her shirt. Abby groaned softly against your lips at the way you tugged her closer, her free hand resting against the small of your back, firm but not forceful, like she needed to feel all of you.

Your lips moved in sync, slow and teasing, learning each other in real-time. Abby’s mouth was warm, slightly chapped from the fight, but she kissed you like she had been thinking about it all night. Like she had been holding herself back.

You tilted your head, lips parting slightly, and Abby took the invitation immediately, deepening the kiss as her fingers tightened their grip in your hair. A quiet hum left your throat as she tugged, just enough pressure to make your pulse quicken.

Her thumb traced slow, lazy circles against your hip, and you shivered under her touch. The soft fabric of her shirt was bunched between your fingers, the scent of her skin—faint traces of sweat, expensive cologne, and something undeniably Abby—filling your senses, making your head spin.

Neither of you spoke, the only sound between you two was the soft, wet pull of lips and the occasional sharp breath as you explored, as the distance between you and Abby disappeared.

You had no idea how long you stayed like that, pressed against each other, lost in the heat of it. But when Abby finally pulled back, just slightly, her forehead resting against yours, her breathing uneven, you realized your hands were still gripping her shirt, like you didn’t want to let go.

Abby’s lips were parted, swollen from the kiss, her eyes half-lidded as she looked at you like she wanted more.

“You okay?” she murmured, voice husky, breath warm against your skin.

You nodded, swallowing thickly, trying to catch your breath.

She smiled, thumb tracing along your jaw. “Good.”

Then she leaned in again, her lips brushing against yours, slower this time—deeper, like she had no intention of stopping.

Ellie sat slouched on Dina’s couch, an ice pack pressed against her bruised eye, her jaw tight as she stared at the ceiling. Her leg bounced restlessly, her free hand fidgeting with the hem of her hoodie—anything to keep her from completely losing it.

Dina sat across from her in the armchair, arms crossed, watching her with an unreadable expression. She had let Ellie in without question, had handed her the ice pack and a beer without saying a word, but Ellie could tell her patience was wearing thin.

“So, let me get this straight,” Dina finally said, her voice slow, measured. “You fucked up, you pushed her away, you made it clear you weren’t ready for a real relationship—and now you’re pissed that someone else gave her what you wouldn’t?”

Ellie groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “It sounds so much worse when you say it like that.”

Dina raised a brow. “Oh, I’m so sorry—should I make it sound better?” Voice sarcastic.

Ellie scowled, sinking further into the couch. “It’s not just that,” she muttered. “It’s her.”

“Abby,” Dina clarified flatly.

“Yes, fucking Abby,” Ellie snapped, dropping the ice pack onto her lap. “She just—she swooped in, like it was nothing. Like I didn’t—like we didn’t—” She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “It’s fucking unfair.”

Dina scoffed. “Unfair?” She leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees. “Ellie, what the fuck did you expect? That she was just gonna sit around waiting for you to maybe pull your head out of your ass?”

Ellie clenched her jaw, eyes burning. “I know it’s my fault, Dina,” she muttered, voice lower now, almost hoarse. “I know I fucked it up. I know I don’t get to be mad about it.” She let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “But guess what? I am mad. I’m mad that she moved on so fucking fast. I’m mad that I don’t know how to fix it. I’m mad that I want to fix it, even though I don’t know if I can.”

Dina sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Jesus, Ellie.”

Ellie swallowed hard, eyes glued to the beer bottle in her hands. “I don’t know what to do,” she admitted, voice quieter now, almost defeated. “I don’t know if she’d even hear me out at this point.”

Dina was quiet for a moment, studying her. Then she exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. “I think the real question is—do you actually want her back?”

Ellie froze.

Ellie had no answer for that.

So she just sat there, shoulders hunched, ice pack forgotten, as the weight of it all pressed down on her chest.

Ellie’s knee kept bouncing, the silence stretching between them like a wire pulled too tight. Her fingers picked at the label on her beer bottle, nails scraping against the condensation.

She hated this, hated feeling this fucking exposed.

“I don’t know,” she finally muttered, barely above a whisper.

Dina narrowed her eyes. “What?”

Ellie shifted uncomfortably, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. Like she wasn’t completely unraveling inside. “I don’t know,” she repeated, voice barely louder than before.

Dina leaned forward, her expression hardening. “No, no—actually say it, Ellie. Really say it, for once in your fucking life, stop acting stupid and just say it.”

Ellie swallowed, her throat dry, her pulse hammering.

“I—” She hesitated, her voice catching in her throat. “I think I do, want her back, I mean.”

Dina’s stare was unwavering. “You think?”

Ellie exhaled sharply, rubbing at her face, frustration bubbling beneath her skin. “Yes, Dina. Yes, okay? I want her back.”

Dina sat back slightly, studying her, like she was waiting to see if Ellie was actually serious this time.

Ellie’s chest felt tight. She dropped her hands, her fingers twitching against her jeans. “But,” she added quickly, voice smaller now, “I don’t know if I deserve to.”

And fuck—there it was. The ugly, real truth of it.

Dina’s face softened just slightly, but she didn’t let up. “Then what the fuck are you gonna do about it?”

Ellie didn’t have an answer for that.

Because deep down, she knew just wanting you back wasn’t enough.

Dina let out a slow, measured breath, pinching the bridge of her nose like she was trying so hard to be patient. But Ellie knew that patience was running real fucking thin.

“Okay,” Dina said, her voice low, controlled. “So you want her back, but you don’t think you deserve to. Does that about sum it up?”

Ellie shifted uncomfortably, picking at the label on her beer bottle again. “Yeah,” she muttered.

Dina slapped a hand against the coffee table, making Ellie flinch. “Then what the fuck are you gonna do about it?”

Ellie’s mouth opened, then shut.

Dina scoffed. “That’s what I thought.” She shook her head, sitting back, arms crossing over her chest. “Jesus, Ellie. You don’t get to sit here and sulk like some heartbroken little kid when you literally just told me you fucked up her date by fighting Abby outside her dorm while you were fucking high.”

Ellie winced. “Yeah,” she muttered, voice lower now.

“Yeah?” Dina snapped. “That’s all you have to say?”

Ellie stayed quiet, her face burning.

Dina let out a laugh. “You know, for someone who acts all tough and ready to fight at a moment’s notice, you are such a coward when it comes to real shit.”

Ellie scowled. “Fuck off, Dina.”

“No, I won’t,” Dina shot back. “Because I actually give a shit about you, even though you make it really fucking hard sometimes.”

Ellie exhaled sharply through her nose, gripping the beer bottle tighter.

"You want her back?” Dina pressed. “Then fucking fight for her, but not like some jealous asshole by swinging your fists because you can’t handle seeing her happy without you. Fight for her the right way. Or don’t, and actually let her move on instead of fucking up her life from a distance because you’re too much of a mess to deal with your own feelings.”

Ellie’s throat felt tight.

Dina softened—only slightly. “But you can’t just sit here and do nothing, Ellie. You owe her more than that.”

Ellie clenched her jaw, staring at the floor.

Dina exhaled, watching her for a moment longer before standing up, grabbing Ellie’s now-forgotten beer bottle off the table. “Figure your shit out,” she said quietly, walking towards the kitchen. “Before it’s too late, Ellie.”

And just like that, the pressure was off.

Or on?

author's note: i'd let abby manhandle me 🫦rrr.... did u also catch Abby's 'worth fighting for' moment🤭

TAGLIST: @liasxeatt @vahnilla @sleepingwasp @morticeras @violetszn @eriiwaii @elliesactualgirlfriend @mikellie @lovely-wisteria @idletyouruinme

COMMENT TO BE ADDED TO MY TAGLIST!!

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magic-shop-stories · 1 month ago

Note

I just found your blog and I love the way you set up your headcanons!!

Could I request your take on soulmate aus for all the boys? Like, what kind of soulmate system would each of them have, how would they meet their fated person? Does it go smoothly, or is it a bumpy ride?

💌 Reply:

Ahhh, thank you so much for the love and this adorable request! 💜 I’ was so thrilled to dive into BTS Soulmate AUs and i really hope it's what you imagined and that it is to your liking 💜 ... Have fun - C -

NAMJOON

Intellectual Slow Burn

HOW YOU MEET

tiny indie bookstore in Mapo-gu

shelves crammed with philosophy and poetry

Namjoon frequents it weekly

always in the same corner - floor cushion #3

green tea cooling beside him

you’re the part-time clerk who restocks the “Existentialism” section every Thursday

you both annotate books with sticky notes

leaving thoughts for strangers

one day, you pick up Nietzsche’s Thus Spoke Zarathustra

you find his note: “Is the Übermensch just a coping mechanism for capitalism? (asking for a friend) – RM”

your reply: “No, but your sticky notes are. – Y/N”

DETAILS

His Notes

philosophical musings in tiny

precise handwriting, dotted with coffee stains

he underlines quotes about self-love and the universe’s indifference

Your Notes

sarcastic quips in purple gel pen

doodles of crying clouds next to Camus passages

The Book That Changes Everything

a battered copy of The Little Prince

he writes: “Do you think the rose ever apologized for being high maintenance?”

you respond: “The fox did all the emotional labor. Discuss.”

FIRST CONVERSATION

Where

booshop

8 PM

rain taps the windows

he’s clutching The Myth of Sisyphus like a lifeline

What He Says

“So. You’re the one who called Kant a ‘coward in a wig.’” (Rubs his neck, glasses fogging.)

“I... I brought banana milk. As a… peace offering? For the capitalism thing.”

His Thoughts

“She’s prettier than her handwriting. Way prettier. Abort mission... wait, is that a Demian reference on her tote bag?”

HOW HE APPROACHES

Phase 1

leaves longer notes with his phone number scribbled in Morse code

you decode it while he pretends to browse

Phase 2

“accidentally” drops his favorite fountain pen near your counter

note inside:

“Dinner? I’ll let you rant about Heidegger.”

Phase 3

you hesitate

he blurts:

“I’m not good at this. But I’m really good at… listening. And losing umbrellas. Mainly listening.”

HOW YOU GET TOGETHER

Timeline

Week 1-4

notes escalate to essay-length debates in the margins of Rilke poetry

Week 5

first “date” at a 24-hour diner

he brings a 3-page bullet-point list

titled “Reasons I Might Be Annoying (Please Critique)”

Week 8

takes you to Seoul Forest

kneels to fix your shoelace

muttering:

“I think… I’m yours. If you’ll have me. And my overthinking.”

DETAILS pt. 2

Glasses Move

adjusts them three times when nervous

you count them during his confession

Banana Milk

always keeps a carton in his bag

“in case of existential emergencies"

Secret Playlist

makes you a lo-fi mix titled “Margin Notes”

samples of bookstore ambient noise

track 7: “Pause for Highlighters.”

Bookmark Gift

carves you a wooden bookmark with “NamKimdiary” on the back (his old Tumblr username)

KEY DIALOGUE

After Your First Kiss

“I’ve written a thousand metaphors about love. None of them… this.”

When You Fight

“I’d rather lose every debate than lose you. Even if you’re wrong about Sartre.”

Proposal (Years Later)

slips a note into your shared copy of The Little Prince:

“Tame me?”

JIN

Culinary Chaos to Comfort

HOW YOU MEET

a Michelin-starred restaurant in Gangnam

Jin is the elusive "Chef Kim"

known for emotional tasting menus

you’re a food critic

anonymously reviewing his dishes

every course he creates makes you feel his hidden emotions

loneliness in a bitter chocolate soufflé

joy in honey-drizzled tteokbokki

you taste the true emotion behind his dishes

he receives anonymous letters about his food = your critiques

they inexplicably quote his inner thoughts

DETAILS

His Dishes

Jjajangmyeon that tastes like nostalgia

= his childhood memories of cooking with his mom

Bingsu that bursts with loneliness

= his early trainee days

Your Reviews

“The sea urchin risotto screamed, ‘I miss my brothers.’ Hire a therapist, Chef.”

“The kimchi stew is perfection, but why does it taste like you’re afraid of being forgotten?”

FIRST CONVERSATION

Where

his restaurant’s kitchen

2 AM

corners you after you sneak in to confront him

What He Says

“You. You’re the one who called my soufflé ‘a cry for help in dessert form.’”

arms crossed, apron splattered with gochujang

“Do you have any idea how many chefs cried because of your ‘constructive feedback’?”

pauses, then smirks

“…It was kinda hot.”

His Thoughts

“She’s got a resting critic face, but her eyes… they see me. Wait... did she just steal a dumpling?

HOW HE APPROACHES

Phase 1

leaves a mystery dish at your doorstep daily

each meal paired with a dad joke: “Why did the tomato blush? Because it saw the salad dressing… and also you.”

Phase 2

invites you to a “private tasting”

just him cooking army stew in sweatpants

“No Michelin rules. Just… us.”

Phase 3

call him out for hiding behind jokes

he admits:

“I’m scared you’ll taste the mess I really am.”

HOW YOU GET TOGETHER

Timeline

Month 1

exchange angry sticky notes on his fridge

he doodles himself as a crying onion

Month 2

crashes your live mukbang stream

shouting:

“That’s my japchae! And my future wife!”

trends for a week

Month 3

cooks you a five-course meal where every dish tastes like unconditional love

no words

just a ring hidden in a bubble tea pearl

DETAILS pt.2

Dad Joke Diary:

keeps a notebook of jokes to make you laugh

#1: Why don’t eggs tell jokes? They’d crack up… like you do at 3 AM.

Secret Ingredient

adds a pinch of sugar to every savory dish he makes you

“To match your smile.”

Mukbang Cameos

sneaks into your streams wearing a Gucci apron

shouting “EAT THIS, NOT THAT!”

feeding you strawberries

Birthday Surprise

recreates an "I Purple You” live setup in your kitchen

“This time, it’s our color.”

KEY DIALOGUE

During a Fight

“You think I’m just ‘Worldwide Handsome’? I’m terrified you’ll realize I’m just… Jin.”

First “I Love You”

“I don’t need a Michelin star. I just need you to taste this.”

feeds you a strawberry that bursts with devotion

Proposal

“Marry me. I’ll annoy you with dad jokes for eternity… and make sure you never eat alone again.”

YOONGI

Silent Understanding & Creative Synchronicity

HOW YOU MEET

late-night music production studio in Hongdae

Yoongi works under the pseudonym "Agust D"

you’re a lyricist for indie artists

known only by your pen name "Shadow"

your words and his beats have been paired anonymously by a streaming algorithm

= creating viral hits

you’ve never met

your lyrics and his instrumentals align too perfectly

every time he uploads a track labeled “Unfinished”

you fill in the gaps with verses that mirror his unspoken emotions

fans call it “fate’s playlist”

DETAILS

His Tracks

haunting piano melodies with gaps in the rhythm

as if waiting for words

song titled “Interlude: Ghost”

muffled voice memo:

“Someone out there… knows.”

Your Lyrics

raw, introspective verses about isolation and quiet hope

they trend every time he drops a beat

bridge for his track “The Last”

reads:

“I built these walls, but you’re the echo in the hall.”

FIRST CONVERSATION

Where

24-hour coffee shop near his studio

he recognizes your voice from a podcast where you dissected his “Daechwita” instrumental

What He Says

“You’re Shadow.”

no greeting, just a tired smirk

slides you a USB drive

labeled “Track 08 – Fix It.”

“The last line you wrote… ‘the static in my veins.’ Why?”

stirs his black coffee

avoiding eye contact

His Thoughts

“She’s younger than I imagined. But her eyes... they’ve seen the same nights as me. Damn, she’s good.”

HOW HE APPROACHES

Phase 1

leaves cryptic notes in the metadata of his tracks

“Meet me at 3 AM. – D”

show up at the studio with a thermos of honey citron tea

Phase 2

collaborates with you anonymously

a song called “Burn It pt.2”

changes the final chorus to “Stay.”

Phase 3

after a year of demos, he sends a track titled “First Love”

no melody

just his voice:

“I’m bad at this. But… let’s try.”

HOW YOU GET TOGETHER

Timeline

Year 1

anonymous collabs

notices you quote his live rants in your lyrics

Year 2

confront him after recognizing his piano riff from an old Bangtan Bomb

“You’re Agust D. Why hide?”

Year 3

he produces a fully instrumental track for your poetry book

liner notes read:

“Your words were my first language.”

DETAILS pt.2

Studio Ritual

leaves the window open when he wants you to visit

playing “Seesaw” on loop

Secret Track

hidden file on his SoundCloud named “Glossary_Of_Us”

has snippets of your voice

Lyric Easter Egg

quotes your first-ever verse in his SUGA mixtape sequel:

“The static’s gone. Now it’s just us.”

Coffee Cup Codes

draws tiny piano keys on your takeout cups

he’s too shy to say “I miss you.”

KEY DIALOGUE

When You Confront Him

“I don’t believe in soulmates. But you… you’re a glitch I can’t fix.”

First Duet Session

“Your voice isn’t perfect. Good. Neither am I.”

Proposal

samples your laugh into a song titled “Forever Interlude.”

credits list: “Feat. My Forever First LOVE.”

J-HOPE

Collaborative Growth & Digital to Real-Life Connection

HOW YOU MEET

on a global dance challenge app called SyncSteps

users upload videos and are algorithmically paired with "rhythm partners."

Hobi joins anonymously under the handle SunshineDance

you’re a shy dance enthusiast

using the app to overcome stage fright

posting under ShadowSteps

the app’s AI matches you based on complementary styles

your fluid, expressive movements sync perfectly with his sharp, energetic choreography

your collaborations go viral

you don’t know each other’s identities

DETAILS

His Videos

crisp, powerful routines tagged with motivational captions:

“You’re one step closer to shining!”

a freestyle titled “Midnight Groove”

= he leaves a frame empty

urging you to fill it:

“Your turn, Shadow.”

Your Videos

intimate, emotion-driven dances in dimly lit rooms

your first upload caption:

“For the girl in the mirror who’s still learning.”

a response to Midnight Groove where you dance in a sunlit studio,

caption: “Found the light.”

FIRST CONVERSATION

Where

app’s chat feature

he messages after your first collab goes viral

What He Says

“Your flow is 🔥! But why hide your face? The world needs to see you.”

adds a sunflower emoji

“I’ll teach you a confidence combo. Step 1: Pretend the mirror is your best friend. Step 2: Steal their swag.”

His Thoughts

“She’s got raw talent, but she’s holding back. Let’s change that… gently.”

HOW HE APPROACHES

Phase 1

creates personalized warm-ups for you

tagging you in posts:

“@ShadowSteps – this one’s for your left side hesitation.”

Phase 2

sends voice notes with pep talks

disguised as "dance tips":

“Remember, mistakes are just freestyle opportunities!”

Phase 3

after months of collaboration, he slips his number into a private video description:

“Text me. Let’s choreograph IRL.”

HOW YOU GET TOGETHER

Timeline

Month 1-6

viral collabs

late-night app chats

he nicknames you “Shadow Warrior.”

Month 7 - 8

you join a live workshop he hosts

masked, like your videos

he recognizes your signature wrist flick mid-session

Month 9

invites you to co-choreograph a piece for his dance crew

at rehearsal, he pulls off his cap:

“Surprise. It’s your Sunshine.”

DETAILS pt.2

Playlist Clues

his practice mixes include BTS’s “Butter” remixes

track #7 is always “Chicken Noodle Soup”

= your first collab choreo song

Signature Move

adds a tiny hop to routines when he’s happy

you mimic it in your videos

Secret Code

uses yellow post-it notes during IRL performances

“YOU GOT THIS”

= the same phrase from his app comments

Meme King

sends you edits of your dances with dancing carrot GIFs

captioned: “When you finally nail the combo.”

KEY DIALOGUE

When You Reveal Your Face

“I knew you’d be beautiful. But damn, you’re a supernova.”

During a Setback

“We don’t ‘fail.’ We freestyle. Now grab my hand and trust the beat.”

Confession

“I fell for you in 8-counts. But I’ll love you in infinite ones.”

JIMIN

Emotional Mirrors, Artistic Synchronicity

HOW YOU MEET

global photography platform called Frame & Soul

users submit photos

paired algorithmically with "emotional complements."

Jimin posts under JM_Eyes

you’re a introspective travel photographer

posting as Silhouette_Shots

app pairs your photos based on unspoken emotions

his shot of a rainy Seoul alley at 3 AM syncs with your sunrise over a deserted beach

both tagged “loneliness and hope.”

your galleries become a silent dialogue

DETAILS

His Photos

moody, intimate shots:

half-empty wine glass backstage

his shadow stretching across a rehearsal floor

crumpled lyric sheets.

self-portrait of his reflection in a broken mirror captioned:

“Pieces of me I can’t name.”

Your Photos

stark, vivid contrasts:

a lone flower in a cracked sidewalk

storm clouds parting over a cityscape

a response to his mirror photo:

“Even broken glass reflects light.”

FIRST CONVERSATION

Where:

Frame & Soul exhibition in Busa

your paired photos are displayed side-by-side

recognizes your style instantly

What He Says

“You’re Silhouette_Shots.”

voice soft

eyes tracing your photo

“How did you… see that?”

“Your picture of the ocean... it felt like my choreography. Heavy, but… free.”

His Thoughts

“She’s quieter than I imagined. But her hands, they’ve held cameras and courage. God, she’s beautiful.”

HOW HE APPROACHES

Phase 1

leaves cryptic comments on your photos:

“Your shadows have better rhythm than me.”

attaches a video of him dancing to your sunset photo’s timestamp

Phase 2

sends you a disposable camera with a note:

“Capture something I’ve never seen. I’ll do the same.”

return it with a shot of dandelions surviving concrete

sends back a photo of his bare feet on a studio floor

matching your caption:

“Roots in unexpected places.”

Phase 3

invites you to a silent photo walk through Seoul

communicates only through his camera lens

guiding you to his favorite hidden spots

HOW YOU GET TOGETHER

Timeline

Month 1-3

viral photo pairs

late-night app DMs dissecting light and shadow

Month 4

sneaks you into his dance studio

choreographing a piece inspired by your storm cloud series

“You’re my muse. But I’m… scared to be yours.”

Month 6

you collaborate on a photo book titled “Unspoken.”

final page is his shot of two coffee cups with steam forming a heart

your caption: “Developed.”

DETAILS pt.2

Polaroid Habit

leaves Polaroids in your bag

doodled arrows pointing to his favorite parts of your face

Dance Codes

humming “Serendipity” when he’s nervous

then denying it

“It’s… a vocal exercise.”

Exhibition Easter Egg

hides a tiny JM logo in the corner of his photos

matching your SS watermark

Secret Project

films a dance video

his movements trace the shapes of your photographs

credits list: “Choreography by Us.”

KEY DIALOGUE

When You Doubt Your Art

“You think your photos are just ‘pretty’? They’re alive. Like you.”

First Kiss

“I’ve danced for millions. But this… this is the first time I’ve felt the audience.”

Confession

“I used to chase perfection. Now I just chase your light.”

TAEHYUNG

Tangible Connections & Nostalgic Serendipity

HOW YOU MEET

a cozy vintage shop in Daegu named Timeless Treasures

known for its eclectic mix of retro cameras, vinyl records, and handwritten letters tucked inside secondhand books

Taehyung frequents the shop

leaving behind curated items with cryptic notes

you’re a freelance writer

you discover his first note inside a 1970s film camera:

“Capture the moments everyone else forgets. – V”

you both leave meaningful objects for each other in the shop

accompanied by handwritten stories or questions

the shop owner, a wise elderly woman, acts as a silent guardian

she's placing your items in a dedicated corner

labeled: “Soul Exchange.”

DETAILS

His Items

a saxophone pin with a note:

“For the jazz in your soul. Play it loud.”

pressed maple leaf from his childhood home:

“Autumn remembers what summer forgets.”

Gucci scarf (fake) with:

“Even fakes can feel real if you believe.”

Your Responses

a typewriter key (the letter “V”) and a poem:

“Words fail, but keys don’t lie.”

mismatched teacup with a story about your grandmother:

“Broken things brew the best stories.”

FIRST CONVERSATION

Where

shop’s dusty record aisle

catches you inspecting his latest gift

= a vinyl of “Fly Me to the Moon”

a note: “Dance like no one’s watching… but me.”

What He Says

“You’re the one who took my camera.”

grins, holding up your poem

“Your words taste like hobakjuk; sweet, but… lonely.”

“Why a typewriter key? I’ve been staring at it for weeks.”

tilts his head, curiosity sparking

His Thoughts

“She writes like she’s lived a thousand lives. And her smile... god, it’s brighter than my flashbulbs.”

HOW HE APPROACHES

Phase 1

leaves a blank journal titled “Our Untold Stories”

a challenge: “Fill this. I’ll do the rest.”

you respond with a tale about a boy who speaks in riddles

Phase 2

gifts you a polaroid camera and a map of Daegu with circled locations:

“Show me your city.”

your photos of abandoned theaters and sunlit alleys become his muse

Phase 3

sends a vinyl record with a hidden track

his hummed rendition of “Winter Bear”

label reads: “For the girl who hears my silence.”

HOW YOU GET TOGETHER

Timeline

Month 1-5:

exchanging objects and stories

nicknames you “Time Traveler” in his notes

Month 6

you find a script titled “The Boy in the Beret”

a play about a man who falls for a stranger’s words

final page: “Auditions: Tomorrow. 7 PM. Bring the teacup.”

Month 7

the shop’s annual “Nostalgia Night”

he wears the saxophone pin you gifted him

you arrive with his Gucci scarf

owner smiles: “Took you two long enough.”

DETAILS pt.2

Beret Code

wears a red beret on days he plans to leave you something

nod to his fashion

Secret Stash

hides cocoa in the shop’s fridge for you

labeled “For the Writer’s Block.”

Vinyl Clue

his “Winter Bear” vinyl has a scratched groove that plays “I purple you” when spun backward

ARMY Nod

leaves a BT21 Tata keychain with a note:

“Found this alien. Think it’s yours.”

KEY DIALOGUE

When You Confront Him

“You think this is a game? I’ve been writing us into existence since day one.”

First Date

takes you to a silent film screening

whispers: “Dialogue is overrated. Just feel it.”

Confession

“I collect vintage souls. But you… you’re timeless.”

JUNGKOOK

Competitive Synergy, Digital to Real-Life Bond

HOW YOU MEET

online multiplayer game called Arena Legends

players worldwide compete in team-based strategy battles

Jungkook, a top-ranked player, goes by the alias GoldenJK

you’re a rising star known as Valkyrie

notorious for your unorthodox tactics

the game’s algorithm pairs you as rivals in ranked matches

your playstyles clash yet complement perfectly

aggression meets precision

game’s AI assigns you as Nemesis Partners

= rare status where rivals share exclusive challenges

each victory unlocks a personalized clue about the other player

Jungkook’s clues hint at his art

“A rabbit doodle in the killfeed”

yours tease your love for indie music

“A lyric snippet in the chat log”

DETAILS

His Gaming Traits

Aggressive yet strategic

dominates matches with bold moves

always protects teammates

leaves golden bunny emojis in the chat after wins

Your Gaming Traits

creative sabotage

use map glitches and unexpected combos

posts montages titled “How to Outsmart a Golden Bunny.”

secretly drop song lyrics as taunts:

“You’re my favorite mistake.”

FIRST CONVERSATION

Where

Nemesis Partner chat room

unlocked after your 10th match

What He Says

“ValkyrieV. Your playstyle… it’s like watching abstract art. Chaotic. Beautiful.”

sends a bunny emoji

“Why the lyric spam? You a BTS fan or just trying to distract me?”

winks via emoji

His Thoughts

“She’s ruthless. But when she revives teammates? Soft. I need to know her IRL.”

HOW HE APPROACHES

Phase 1

creates a custom map titled “Rabbit Hole”

hidden ARMY references

final clue: “Find me where the sky is purple.”

= his favorite Seoul rooftop

Phase 2

sends you a mystery USB drive containing a game mod.

transforms his avatar into a golden knight

guarding a pixel-art version of your hometown

Phase 3

challenges you to an IRL match at a PC bang

shows up wearing a bunny hoodie

controller in hand: “No avatars. Just us.”

HOW YOU GET TOGETHER

Timeline

Week 1-4

toxic rivalry turns into respectful banter

screenshares his art mid-match

you play “Euphoria” over voice chat

Month 2

you team up for a charity tournament

his avatar sacrifices itself to save yours

“Why’d you do that?!”

“Couldn’t let my nemesis die.”

Month 3

invites you to his studio

you find a painting of your ValkyrieV avatar

caption: “My Greatest Opponent. My Only Equal.”

DETAILS pt.2

Gamer Tag Easter Egg

username GoldenJK rearranges to “Jungkook Loves ARMY.” later

IRL Clues

wears a BT21 Cooky keychain during streams

you gift him a golden bunny sticker for his laptop

Secret Mod

codes a private server

your avatars dance to “Still With You” under pixelated stars

Post-Win Ritual

sends you banana milk deliveries with notes:

“For the victor. Next time, though…”

KEY DIALOGUE

During a Match

“You fight like you’ve got everything to lose. Why?”

“Because I hate losing to rabbits.”

First IRL Meet

“You’re… shorter than your avatar.”

“And you’re exactly as cocky as yours.”

Confession

“I used to play to win. Now I play to hear you laugh.”

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