#feel free to ask me for more details on some of the things I said I'd love to explain further

[sugdenlovesdingle]

I am a slut for Hurt/comfort first “I love you” 🥺🫶🏼

Hope you’re having a fantastic day 🥰

Sorry this took FOREVER, but I hope you like it!

(I’ll post on AO3 after I've had some sleep)

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"You could always come along. Half naked men are relevant to your interests these days." Eddie teased and Buck rolled his eyes.

"There is only one man I'm interested in, and I prefer him completely naked." he grinned at Tommy who leaned over the table to kiss him.

"Likewise."

"Can someone please remind me why I'm friends with you two again?" Eddie complained.

The three of them were sat at Buck's kitchen table, grabbing a bite to eat together before Eddie and Tommy were going to another fight in Vegas.

"I saved your life." Buck reminded him around a bite of food.

"I've saved your life." Eddie shot back.

"Free babysitting."

"Well with Chris still in El Paso, I don't think I'm going to be asking for your services in that department any time soon. If ever again..."

"Chris will come around." Tommy started sincerely, but there was a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "And I get you free tickets to fights and free helicopter flights to exclusive fights in Vegas and back. Which you could be more grateful for."

"I'm beginning to wonder if that means getting all the details on your sex life is really worth it."

"Hey, you don't have to come. I can always go with Evan and get my buddy to set us up with a nice hotel room on the strip." Tommy said turning to Buck. "The two of us, a king size bed, maybe a jacuzzi... Not leaving the room for an entire weekend..."

"And then you'll complain about about having missed the fight of the century when we get back." Buck reminded him but happily let Tommy kiss him.

"There will be other fights. A weekend in Vegas with you sounds pretty good. We could hit up the casinos. I'm pretty good at poker."

"I beat you the other day." Buck smirked.

"That was intentional." Tommy said with a wink.

"Why would you let him win?" Eddie asked, downing the last of his beer. "Why would you play with him in the first place? Mister over competitive."

"Hey!" Buck protested while Tommy just shrugged.

"I had my reasons."

Eddie narrowed his eyes.

"This is another sex thing, isn't it?" he held up his hands. "No, don't answer that. I don't want to know."

Tommy laughed and finished the last of his food.

"We should get going soon. We need to still drive over to Harbor from here."

Eddie nodded.

"But no more details about your sex life or you can go alone."

"Noted." Tommy said, getting up and putting their dirty dishes in the sink. "Don't bother with those ok? We can do them together tomorrow." he told Buck.

"Sure. You coming back here after then?"

Tommy smiled.

"If you want me to."

Buck stood up and wrapped his arms around Tommy's neck.

"I want you to. I don't care how late it gets, I want you here. And you better wake me up if I'm asleep."

"I'm not making any promises in that department. But I'll promise I'll be there when you wake up. Deal?"

Buck pretended to think it over.

"I guess I can live with that." he joked and the two of them shared another kiss, getting lost in the moment until Eddie loudly cleared his throat.

"Come on Tomás, we have a flight to catch."

Tommy reluctantly stepped out of Buck's embrace.

"The flight is me." he glanced at his watch. "But yeah we should get going." he shrugged on his jacket, grabbed his phone and keys, and with one more quick kiss and a promise to see Buck later, he followed Eddie out the door.

Buck sighed.

As much as he liked the fact that his boyfriend and best friend got on so well, he wouldn't have exactly hated it to spend his night off with said boyfriend instead of watching TV on his own.

He'd only known Tommy for a couple of months but it was getting harder and harder to remember what his life was like without him in it. He didn't particularly want to either.

Just thinking about Tommy made him smile like a teenager with a crush, but lately he was starting to feel like this thing between them was getting more serious. A deeper connection. Not just sex or romantic dates but also being content to just exist in each other's space.

Like spending the night watching the latest movie Tommy insisted he had to watch or trying out a new recipe with Tommy sitting at his kitchen table, keeping him company and being his guinea pig.

It felt a lot like love.

He was pretty sure Tommy felt the same, even if they hadn't actually said it yet.

He really wanted to though, but he was still waiting for that perfect moment. Maybe he'd tell him when they woke up together in the morning.

He smiled to himself as he scrolled through his DVR to find the documentary on bees he'd recorded earlier that week and got comfortable on the sofa as he hit play.

The documentary was interesting enough but still his mind kept wandering. He tried to remember the names of the guys fighting so he could check the score, when his phone suddenly rang in his hand.

He frowned at the screen, not recognising the number. He debated letting it go to voicemail but his curiosity got the better of him.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this Evan Buckley?"

"Yes, this is Evan Buckley... Who is this?"

"My name is Laura Greenwood, I'm a nurse at Cedars-Sinai Medical Centre, and I'm calling you on behalf of Edmundo Diaz. I have you listed as his emergency contact, is that correct?"

"Yes, yes that is correct. What's going on? Is Eddie in hospital?"

"Mister Diaz has just been brought in following a car accident."

"A what?! Is he ok?"

"His injuries are non life threatening as far as I've been told." the nurse told him in a practised calm voice. "Are you able to come to the hospital?"

"Uh yes, yes I'm on my way." Buck told her, rushing around his loft to grab his stuff and put his shoes on. "Wait... Was there anyone else brought in with him? Is there a Thomas Kinard with him? Was he admitted too?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that sir. When you get here you can go straight to the ER and they'll take you to see mister Diaz. Perhaps he will be able to tell you more about any other passengers involved in the accident."

The drive to the hospital was a blur. Eddie was in a car accident... but he'd been in a car with Tommy. They'd taken his truck. So what did that mean for Tommy? Had someone crashed into them? Was Tommy alright? Was he even still alive?

He all but threw his Jeep in the first available parking space he came across, and only just remembered to take the keys out of the ignition and lock it.

The hospital was outside the 118's jurisdiction, so he wasn't as familiar with it as some of the others in the city, but he found the ER with ease after making himself follow the signs.

"But was there a Thomas Kinard brought in too?" he tried with the nurse who was taking him to see Eddie.

"Are you next of kin?"

"He's my boyfriend."

The nurse nodded.

"And are you his emergency contact as well? Or listed as next of kin anywhere?"

"I... I'm... No... We've only been together a couple of months... we haven't had that conversation yet."

The nurse gave him a sympathetic look and Buck knew what she was about to say.

"I'm very sorry, but I can't give you any information if you're not next of kin."

"Right... yeah... I understand..."

"If you know who his emergency contact is, they can update you... or tell us it's ok to tell you."

"C-can... I know you're not allowed to give me any details but... is he here? Is he alive?" Buck tried. "Please. I just need to know he's alive."

The nurse looked at him for a minute, weighing her options, then started typing on a tablet.

"Kinard? K-I-N-A-R-D?"

"That's right."

"He's here." She confirmed. "He's alive. They're working on him. That's all I can tell you, I'm sorry." She started walking again, and Buck had to jog a few steps to catch up with her when his brain had managed to process the information she'd given him.

The nurse pulled open a curtain around a bed and Eddie looked up from the magazine he was flicking through. He looked a little banged up but mostly in one piece.

"Mister Diaz, there's someone here to see you." she stepped aside and Buck made himself walk up to the bed and greet his best friend.

"What happened?" he asked after the nurse had left them to it.

"We got t-boned by some drunk idiot in an expensive sports car." Eddie told him. "Tommy got the worst of it. Have you seen him yet? I figured he'd be higher on your list of priorities."

Buck bit his lip. He was happy to see his best friend was ok, but he couldn't help but worry about his boyfriend.

"They won't let me see him. I'm not family, I'm not his emergency contact, I'm nothing. They called me because of you... All that nurse told me is that he's alive."

Eddie gave him a sympathetic look.

"Do you know who his emergency contact is? Does he have family in LA? Siblings?"

"He was born in LA. His dad still lives in the house he grew up in... But they hate each other."

"Ok so not his dad then."

Buck shook his head.

"He also has a brother but I don't even know his name." he rubbed a hand over his face. "I don't even know the name of my boyfriend's brother." he said dejected. "What if he dies? I don't know his family, I've only met a few of his work friends at Harbor, and I don't know any of his friends outside of work. Nobody would even let me know when the funeral is. I don't even know if he would want a funeral. I barely know my own boyfriend!"

He was spiralling and well on his way to a panic attack.

"Hey, hey, calm down." Eddie did his best to snap him out of it by squeezing his shoulder and making him look at him. "Tommy is not going to die ok? He's the one that called 911 after the accident. He had a head wound and they had to cut him out of the car because his leg got pinned. But he was bitching about his truck getting ruined and how it would take him ages to get it back in working order so he was definitely conscious when they got him out. "

Buck made himself take a few deep breaths to compose himself. Tommy worrying about his car was good. That meant he was awake and conscious enough to know what was happening.

"What kind of head wound? Was it bad?"

"Not as bad as it could have been." Eddie told him after a beat and Buck knew he was choosing his words carefully so he wouldn't freak him out. A move straight from the LAFD handbook.

"What does that even mean? There was no brain matter on the airbag?"

Eddie rolled his eyes at his friend's dramatics.

"The idiot hit Tommy's side pretty hard. Almost flipped us over. We got knocked around the car pretty bad and he hit his head on... something. I don't know, it all happened really fast."

Buck nodded and just about managed to stop himself from shaking Eddie to give him more details.

"I think I passed out for a few minutes... because the next thing I remember is Tommy asking for my phone, well... more like demanding, because he couldn't find his." Eddie continued, scrunching up his face trying to remember more details. "I think he used my phone to call 911... but I don't know what happened to it." He looked around. "They haven't given me my stuff yet."

"I'll go find someone..." Buck moved to stand up but Eddie stopped him.

"The phone can wait. We need to figure out what we're going to do about Tommy."

"What do you mean what we're going to do about Tommy? I'm not family, they won't let me see him."

"I know... but maybe we can figure out a way around that. That nurse from before likes me... maybe if I flirt with her a little she'll tell me what room he's in? Or how he's doing?"

"Just how hard did you hit your head in the crash? I think you have a concussion. That's never going to work."

"Hey, I'm charming and sexy! I'm hot!"

"I've seen you puking up your guts after bad sushi and hungover and praying in Spanish on my bathroom floor after you decided to mix beer and tequila. You are neither charming or sexy."

"Well you try it then! Or maybe one of the male nurses will be easier to persuade."

"I'm not going to flirt with a guy to get info on my boyfriend!" Buck said exasperated and stood up. "I'm just going to calmly talk to the nurses again and explain the situation... maybe they can tell me who his emergency contact is. Maybe it's his brother and I can introduce myself and he can tell me how Tommy is doing."

Eddie mumbled something under his breath but Buck ignored him and went in search for someone who could tell him more about Tommy.

He was almost at the nurses station when he heard a familiar name.

"I'm here for Thomas Kinard. I got a call he was in an accident."

"Are you family?"

"I might as well be." Buck had a clear view of the man now but he didn't recognise him. "I'm his emergency contact. You called me."

"Name?"

"Sal Deluca. Salvatore."

The nurse typed something on her computer.

"He was in a car accident. Suspected fractured pelvis, head laceration, suspected broken ribs and open tibia fracture, as well as suspected ruptured spleen. He's in surgery now." She told the man. "You can take a seat here and someone will come update you when they can."

The man looked like he wanted to argue with the nurse but apparently decided it wasn't worth it and just sat down on a nearby chair and took his phone out of his pocket. He tapped the screen and put the phone up to his ear.

"Hey, it's me." he paused to listen. "No I haven't seen him yet. He's in surgery. Pretty banged up. He's gonna need help when he gets out. We can't let him go back to his place on his own." Another pause. "I don't know, Gina." A slight irritation in his voice. "We'll figure it out when the time comes." another pause and a sigh. "Yeah. I'll call you when I know more. Yeah. Love you too. Bye."

Buck watched him put his phone away and sit back in the chair. It was now or never. He took a deep breath and walked up to the man.

"Hi... uhm... you don't know me but...-"

"Look, man, let me stop you there. If you're the one that hit my buddy and want to clear your conscience now or something, don't bother, I'm not interested. He'll probably forgive you when he's awake, because he's an idiot like that, but don't come to me with that shit."

"What? No. Tha-that's not... I'm Evan Buckley. Tommy is my boyfriend."

The man sat up.

"You're Evan?"

"Yes... Has Tommy mentioned me?"

"Yeah. Hasn't stopped talking about you for the past few months. I feel like I know you better than my own wife by now."

"Oh... I uh... h-he hasn't told me a-about you..." Buck stammered.

"Of course not." The man rolled his eyes. "We've been friends for over 20 years, he's my both daughters' godfather, but he won't tell his new boyfriend about me." he continued sarcastically. "I guess he just wanted to make sure you're not an asshole like the last idiot he dated. Andrew really fucked him up."

"Y-yeah..." Buck agreed, not wanting to let on he didn't have a clue who Andrew was.

The man stood up and offered Buck his hand.

"I'm Sal. Were you in there with him?"

"No, my best friend was. They were going to Vegas to watch a fight." Buck explained and filled him in on the details.

Sal turned out to be easy enough to talk to once he'd decided Buck was alright, and the two of them talked about Tommy, the job, the 118, and the grudge Sal still held against Bobby.

After some time, a tired looking doctor came to update them on Tommy's condition and a nurse took them up to the floor so they could see him.

"One visitor at a time." she warned them.

"You go first." Buck told Sal who shook his head and pushed him towards the door.

"He's not going to want to see me, trust me. You go sit with him, I'll go update my wife."

Buck wanted to protest but Sal was already walking away and tapping his phone screen. He looked through the little window in the door and saw Tommy, looking way too small and frail for a man his size.

His leg was in a cast and there were various bandages around his head and body. He glanced at the monitor beside the bed and watched the lines move with Tommy's heartbeat before gently opening the door and going in.

He grabbed the chair from the corner of the room and sat down as close to the bed he could get. He watched Tommy's chest rise and fall with each breath and carefully took his hand in his.

"Hey... You scared the shit out of me..." he said softly. "I got the call about Eddie and I jumped in my car right away... And Eddie's fine, he'll be alright... But they wouldn't tell me anything about you. I didn't even know if you were alive." He brought Tommy's hand to his lips and brushed a kiss over the knuckles. "When you get out of here, we need to talk." he said and winced at how it sounded. "Not... not like that. I'm not breaking up with you. I just... our jobs are dangerous you know. And next time you get injured on the job... or just... anything happens to you... I want to know what happened. I want to be able to come see you without Eddie thinking he can flirt with a nurse and convince her to let me." He laughed a little. "You know that would never have worked."

The next few hours went by in a blur. Tommy woke up a few times but was way too out of it to have anything resembling a conversation, Sal dipped in and out of the room, and even Eddie had come by to check on Tommy.

The hours turned into days, and the days turned into a week. Tommy's condition had improved enough for him to be moved onto a regular ward and for the dose of the heavy painkillers to be lowered so he was awake for longer periods of time and more aware of what was happening around him.

And also getting more and more annoyed by the fact he couldn't move around as freely as he'd like, practically begging the nurses to get him a pair of crutches even if he was nowhere near well enough for that.

"Hey there sleeping beauty, welcome back to the land of the living. If you wanted to see me that badly, you could have just picked up the phone, you know? You didn't have to crash your car." Sal joked when he walked back into Tommy's room after updating his wife and checking in at work on day 8.

"You know me, always had a flair for the dramatic." Tommy replied and gave him a tired smile. "How are the girls? Evan said you went to call Gina."

"They're fine. Torey wants to come see her uncle T but we talked her down to facetime when you're feeling better."

"Yeah... when these bruises clear up... and the stitches come out. Or can be covered up somehow. I don't want to scare her." Tommy said, gesturing to his head. He was looking a whole lot better than when he'd first been brought in but the bruises were only just starting to fade.

"She's seen you first thing in the morning before you've had your coffee, she can handle a couple of bruises."

Buck sat back and let the two of them talk. He'd gotten to know Sal a little over the past week or so and he liked the guy. Even if he was still kind of intimidated by him.

But it was clear he cared about Tommy and Buck was happy Tommy had a best friend like him. Someone who would drop everything to be there for him. Someone who would always have his back.

Though it was also frustrating that between Sal, the hospital staff, Tommy's crew from Harbor, and various members of the 118, Buck had barely had a moment alone with him.

And he didn't need an audience for what he wanted to tell him.

"I promised Torey I'd take her up to see the lights."

"So save it for her next birthday." Sal argued and Buck realised he'd zoned out and didn't have a clue what they were talking about. "Or wait until she turns 21 and take her to Vegas."

"Oh sure. 'happy birthday sweetheart, you'll get your present in 11 years' I'm sure she'll understand." Tommy said sarcastically and Sal laughed.

"You know she'll remember. And then Bella will want to go too when she turns 21. So you better make sure you get back in that chopper so you can take my girls to Vegas when they're old enough."

Tommy groaned.

"When Isabella is 21, I'll be..." he shook his head. "I don't want to think about that."

Sal sat back in his chair.

"They grow up way too fast." he settled on. "Feels like only yesterday that she couldn't even wrap her little hand all the way around my finger, and now she's talking about inviting boys to her birthday party."

Buck did his best to focus on the conversation, even if he didn't know Sal's family, but he kept zoning out and his eyelids were getting heavy. He hadn't exactly had a good night's sleep at Tommy's bedside, and now the worst seemed to be behind them, the lack of sleep was starting to catch up to him.

"Evan." someone squeezed his hand. "Evan, hey, wake up."

"Wha-what?" he blinked the sleep from his eyes and sat up straighter. "I'm here, I'm awake. I'm here. Are you ok?" he searched Tommy's face for any sign of discomfort or even pain."

"I'm ok. But you just fell asleep sitting up. Why don't you go home to get some rest. in an actual bed."

Buck frowned.

"I'm not leaving you. I'm fine. I just... closed my eyes for a second. I'm fine now, I promise."

"You sound like my daughter when she doesn't want to go to bed." Sal cut in. "She's 8. And I usually pick her up and throw her over my shoulder and take her to bed anyway. So don't try me, Buckley."

Tommy laughed a little but then turned serious.

"Evan, you're exhausted. Why don't you call Howie to take you home. Just for a couple of hours." he pleaded. "I've got Sal here to keep me company, and all these wires stuck to me so they can make sure I'm alright... I'm ok now, I promise. It's your turn to rest now."

"I'm fine." Buck insisted. "I'll get a coffee from the machine later. I'm fine."

"Evan..."

"Tommy, I love you, but please stop trying to get me to leave. I'm not leaving until you are." Buck told him, and brushed a kiss over Tommy's knuckles to emphasise his point.

"Ev... I... You... Did you... mean... that...?"

"I'm not leaving you."

"Not that... the... other thing..."

"The other thing?" Buck mumbled and tried to replay the last part of their conversation in his mind. Tommy, I love you. "Oh... t-that... I..."

"It's ok. You don't have to explain. You're exhausted, I get it. It's fine." Tommy rambled.

"No, I... I... did.. do... mean it. I just... didn't... realise?"

"I'm going to... go buy some cigarettes." Sal said and got up, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair.

"You don't smoke." Tommy pointed out.

"I'll start." Sal replied and left the room, closing the door behind him and leaving the two men alone.

"Are you cold? Do you want me to fluff up your pillow? Do you want some water? Do you want me to go so you can sleep?" Buck rambled, fussing with Tommy's blanket.

"Evan... tell me... did you mean it? It's fine if you didn't. I can handle it. Just tell me. It's alright. We're just having fun, right? You didn't sign up for all of this. It's fine. You can just go. I'll call you when I'm better. Maybe we can go to that club you found online the other day. I mean, it's gonna be a while before I can dance again but... -"

"Tommy!" Buck interrupted. "Shut up. Please." he carefully sat down on the bed next to Tommy's hip and put his hand on his uninjured leg. "I did mean it. I just... didn't mean to just blurt it out like that. I wanted to make it romantic. Maybe a candlelit meal at home. Some music playing in the background, maybe a nice glass of wine... and then I'd take your hand..." he paused to do just that. "And I'd look into your eyes. And I'd tell you that these past few months have been amazing, That you have been amazing. That you make me happier than I ever thought I could be." he carefully leaned in to press a kiss to Tommy's lips. "And then I'd tell you I love you. I love you so much. And then in a perfect world, you'd say it back and we'd have the best night of our lives."

Tommy smiled.

"That sounds amazing. And I love you too."

"You do?"

"Yeah. It's kind of scary... I've never felt this way about anyone before... and definitely not this quickly... but yeah, yes I do love you Evan."

Buck leaned in for another kiss.

"I really wish we could do more right now. I wish I could hold you." he gently ran his hand up and down Tommy's good arm.

"I know... Me too."

"When you get out of here, I'm going to cook for you. All of your favourite foods. I even found a recipe for spumoni online and I'm going to make it for you." Buck promised. "It probably won't be as good as your grandma's, though, but I’ll settle for second place." he joked.

"I'm sure I'll love it. Because I love you."

"I love you too." Buck replied. "And I could really get used to hearing you say that."

"Good thing I'm planning on saying it a lot then."

[starkidlabs]

Haha I should not have read my mums texts

[scentedpeachlandcreator]

how i manifested my dream life with extremely hard circumstances + how you can too ♡

Note: this is not my post and it's blushydior's post that everyone been searching for, so i thought why not making it as a post,and blushy if you see this, please don't kill me i know you said that you'll change your post but you disappeared After that.

♡ table of contents:

1. the importance of making this post

2.my take on manifestation + the 3D

3. HOW I DID IT - my journey in 4 phases i went through that include my mindset changes up to the moment i got my desires 

4. your new rules & routine from this moment on

5. a note from me!

6. frequently asked questions: separated into topics regarding the 3D, self concept + miscellaneous questions to have you leaving this post stress free.

now let’s get into it. read every bit of this post “ ~ ୨୧ ♡ ·

I. THE IMPORTANCE OF MAKING THIS POST

i’ve been through it all. you can read my experiences from old life in the “my life before” section of my success story + here, here, here and here. this is my success story on how the law of assumption has changed my life. as you can see from the “how” section of the post, i had purposely left it short, sweet and simple to avoid people complicating the simplicity of the law of assumption. but as time went on, anons and other blogs made me realize that since people do tend to over-complicate the law, the need i felt to make an in-depth post on how i personally manifested through my hard circumstances grew strong.

my blog often highlights topics that pertain to mental health, so i want to make sure those who find themselves in the same situations as i once were feel seen, heard and loved. you are all so powerful, amazing and hold so much potential more than you know. with this post, i hope i am able to help you realize that fact to the best of my abilities.

𝐈𝐈. MY TAKE ON MANIFESTATION + THE 3D

something that you’ll see me say all the time is: “life is a blank canvas.” that’s because it truly is.

remember that you are working with the law of assumption. what you assume to be true, is true. nothing is set in stone unless you say it is. things have meaning only if you assign it one.

you are the sole creator of your life. you are the artist that controls the brush/pen, you control what goes on and off of this very malleable canvas we call life. you don’t have to do anything. therefore,

you don’t have to: affirm 24/7, be specific, word your affirmations correctly, listen to subliminals, ignore the 3D, be positive all the time, meditate, have high vibrations, script, visualize, do sats or lullaby, go into the void, affirm in the present tense, avoid the mirror, etc.

you can literally say a random word like “bonk” and if saying it means you have all your desires or money is constantly filling your bank account, then that’s what will happen!

“but what if my subconscious doesn’t know what it means?” your subconscious mind is literally you. it’s not some stranger separate from you. if you want a scene to play out a certain way on a specific date or a romantic partner with all the most perfect qualities even if you can’t name it all at the top of your head, your subconscious has your back with the details! you have your own back. don’t worry.

YOU DON’T HAVE TO IGNORE THE 3D.

read that again and again and again and again and-if your circumstances are quite literally in your face, how can you turn the other way and ignore it? you could if you wanted but you’ll only be doing more harm and we don’t want that, right?

“so then what do i do?” you KNOW it’s going to change. it’s challenging when you don’t fully believe the law to know it’s going to change, so for a start, tell yourself that this is not the end. why? because the moment you had a desire and claimed it as yours, it has already been set stone in the 4D so the 3D has no choice but to reflect it. this is your movie, you KNOW this is not the end. you are director and star of this movie! you control how it’s going to play out.

𝐈𝐈𝐈. HOW I DID IT - The 4 Phases (more so, 3)

PHASE 1:

i found out about manifestation from tiktok. from there i have tried scripting, law of attraction and had taken a liking into the craft. i tried it all until i found out about the law of assumption, sammy ingram and finally, tumblr.

PHASE 2:

upon finding out about loassumption tumblr, i had learned more and more about the law but as time went on, i had realized i had never really fully tried to apply the law. the idea just didn’t come about to apply it. as many others, i had overconsumed information, always wondering if i was doing it right, questioning the 3D,

so i took a break. upon discharge, i realized many things and decided to spend an extended amount of time alone, away from social media. i’m someone who values alone time as long as if it’s spent wisely.

during this time away from tumblr and sns platforms in general, constantly surrounded by other people’s takes, information, and opinions, i had learned so much about the law of assumption on my own! i went into the law of assumption with a fresh mind, actually applying the knowledge and overtime of affirming and persisting, i ACTUALLY understood the meaning behind “creation is finished. it is done.”

i’m advising you to step away from social media (that on it’s own has negative impacts) and be alone with your thoughts. i know your thoughts haven’t had it’s time to be alone because you’re most likely constantly seeking information to help you. and i don’t blame you. it’s just that, you are always bombarded by thoughts that aren’t your own, you barely give some time to yourself to think for yourself!

and if you can’t help but be on tumblr for other reasons than loassumption, unfollow blogs for the time being, scroll past informational posts to avoid second guessing your application. tell yourself that

YOU ARE DOING EVERYTHING RIGHT!

PHASE 3:

when it was time to apply the law, i simplified it. you choose what you desire, you affirm from your desire and persist. okay! got it. so that’s what i did. i affirmed whenever i thought about my desire, i kept saying that it is done! so in phase 2, i mentioned how i realized how creation was ACTUALLY done, right? before deciding to apply the law, i kept seeing posts saying that but i didn’t really fully understand it until the realization hit me during my time away from social media. (see? i love alone time. solitude is my bff) — here’s my breakdown for you:

once you decide a desire is yours to claim, THE SECOND you affirm that, in your head, imagination, your 4D, it is ALREADY yours. therefore, it has no choice to become physical reality. (this is why your subconscious only needs to hear things once in order for it to conform!)

it will always be yours for as long as you sustain that assumption (persist), it is yours! no matter what.

this is the meaning of “it is done.” it’s like telling a chef what dish you want, once they know what you want, they’ve got you covered. except that this chef is you. you know the details of your desire, you declare it’s going to conform instantly so why are you worrying? there is no need to worry.

informational post on the 4D + 3D here:

❝ If you judge after appearances, you will continue to be enslaved by the evidence of your senses. To break this hypnotic spell of the senses you are told, "Go within and shut the door,” The door of the senses must be tightly shut before your new claim can be honored .Instead of fighting against the evidence of the senses you claim yourself to be that which you desire to be. As your attention is placed on this claim, the doors of the senses automatically close against your former master (that which you were conscious of being). As you become lost in the feeling of being (that which you are now claiming to be true of yourself) the doors of the senses once more open, revealing your world to be the perfect expression of that which you are conscious of being. ❞

i kept time away from social media and being persistent really helped me be aware of my thoughts.

persistence has helped me:

be aware of thoughts that i wouldn’t have been able to catch before. for example, i was declaring that i have all of my desires and creation was done, but i found myself affirming “okay but where is it?” — this made me realize i was questioning my desires in my 3D even though i knew it was done in the 4D. (you don’t have to do this, you can imply your 3D conforms fast with whatever affs)

flip and interrupt my intrusive thoughts faster and faster the more i persisted. i hated my intrusive thoughts so much. like it was so annoying and hurtful. it was filled with replaying past scenarios that happened to me, things i wished had played out differently, just people who absolutely did not deserve the right to be occupying my mind and space! so i was grateful to learn that with persistence, i started to have less and less of those.

(see!! mental diet, persistence!! <3 this is how habits form and strengthen duhh. remember not to abandon common sense for the law)

AND THEN, PHASE 4:

i had entered sabbath, the state of the wish fulfilled, calm and relaxation that my desire has already manifested and there wasn’t nothing left for me to do other than persist. after so much persisting and saturating my mind with my affirmations, i reached being peace with my desires. i’m really glad i persisted. see how after persistence of assumptions, though false, will harden into fact? see how even your affirmations would feel “fake” at first but will soon feel natural to you? this means that i wasn’t questioning where it was, how long it was taking, etc. but this doesn’t mean i was ignoring my 3D. i saw it all but i knew it was going to change BECAUSE i felt peace in my inevitable desires.

then, i received my desires.

❝ I couldn’t possibly be worried about anything if I really believe that imagining creates reality. ❞

❝ When I speak of feeling I do not mean emotion, but acceptance of the fact that the desire is fulfilled. Feeling grateful, fulfilled, or thankful, it is easy to say, “Thank You,” “Isn’t it wonderful!” or “It is finished.” When you get into the state of thankfulness, you can either awaken knowing it is done, or fall asleep in the feeling of the wish fulfilled. ❞

𝐈𝐕. YOUR NEW RULES & ROUTINE

☆┆YOUR 3 NEW RULES ARE:

1, you have all your desires:

i have all of my desires.

creation is finished. it is done.

2. you manifest quickly and easily:

manifesting is always so easy and instant for me.

i always manifest within 2 days or less, the 3D conforms instantly.

the 3D instantly reflect my 4D.

the physical reality instantly reflects my 4D/imaginative reality.

3. you are okay because nothing can stop you from getting the inevitable:

everything is going to be okay because creation is done.

i am always aware of my thoughts. nothing can stop/get in the way of my desires.

no amount of intrusive thoughts, events and opinions of others have the power to stop my manifestations.

✉️: choose one affirmation from each list or make one of your own that makes you feel comfortable.

☆┆ROUTINE:

affirm on loop as an act of saturating your mind whenever you think of your desire until you feel satisfied,

in the morning, after you wake up: saturate your mind with affs.

read the manifesting vaunt below everyday (whenever you feel like it) — read it over and over again until you feel confident then go about your day!!

at night, before you sleep, affirm this:

“i kept all my thoughts in check today. i didn’t waver once. my mind is completely saturated with the new story.”

optional tip: if you want to saturate your mind even more as a start, you can set reminders with sticky notes around your space, have affs on your phone lock screen or wear a bracelet.

✉️ NOTE: soon enough, your mind will be saturated and you won’t need to do this anymore. this is just a start for those who battle intrusive thoughts!

let yourself feel any emotions that may come up because of your hard circumstances then once it’s out of your system, affirm your rules, especially rule #3!

do not consume any loassumption information if you know it will only cause you to second guess your ability. if you have the urge to ask a blog a question, try to make sense of what they will say and answer it yourself.

in times of doubt, remember that life is a blank canvas. your desire is set in stone, so your only task is to persist.

REASSURANCE VAUNT

creation is ACTUALLY finished. it is done. the second i claimed my desires as mine, it has already manifested itself in the 4D so it has no choice to present itself in the 3D! all i have to do is affirm and persist. i always have unwavering faith in my manifesting abilities and the law. i never fail. i am successful at every single thing i do. manifesting is so effortless. no amount of doubt, worry, fear, anxiety, intrusive thoughts or events can ever, and i mean EVER stop my manifestations. why? because i said so. this is MY life. i make the rules. so if i say i manifest easily, the 3D conforms instantly and that i have all of my desires, then it is a FACT. i’m literally unstoppable. everything i want is inevitable. my only task is to persist, sit back and relax as the 3D reflects my 4D. it all happens so fast, but what else do you expect from a master manifester like me?

SOMETHING TO NOTE:

most of the time, people think affirming on loop is saying it like a robot but what you don’t realize is that you’re affirming as if you’re reading a book. it’s not filled with enthusiasm but it’s not exactly monotone either. stop overthinking it. it’s like the voice you’re reading this post with. correct?

again, soon enough, your affirmations will feel natural and you won’t feel the need to affirm constantly. the routine above was given for those who battle intrusive thoughts, making your affirmations dominate to the point where you don’t waver.

QUOTES on STATES:

❝ I paid thirty dollars for my first suit. Today a suit will cost me $200.00, but regardless of the cost, when the suit is new I am aware of it. But let me wear it long enough for it to feel natural and I will no longer be conscious of it. The same is true for a state. You may desire the state of fame. If you will think you are famous and remain conscious of the state long enough to make it natural, as the thoughts flow from you they become a natural part of your body of beliefs, and the world will proclaim your fame. ❞

❝ I urge you to use your own wonderful creative power and deliberately move into the state of your choice. Make it now by occupying the state long enough so that it feels natural. Haven’t you had a suit of clothes that felt so new you were conscious of them every moment? I know when I bought my first suit I walked down Fifth Avenue thinking everyone I passed knew my suit was new. People passing paid no attention to me, but I was so aware, so conscious of my new suit. That’s exactly that happens when you move into a new state. If the state of affluence is new, you think everyone knows it, but no one knows or cares whether you are rich or poor, so walk in the state until it becomes natural. The moment the feeling is natural, wealth is yours! ❞

𝐕. ENDING NOTE

i love you. read that again. you can do it. read that again. i am so so so so proud of you. read that again! you are so strong, you have SOO much potential and power. it’s time for you to tap into it, angel. stop making excuses. stop telling yourself you can’t do it. stop the nonsense! you’ve dealt with your hard circumstances long enough, it’s time for you to turn to the person who can make that change (you) and make it happen. i’m really sorry you have to go through what you did. you certainly do not deserve the unkind treatment. give yourself a hug and tell yourself that this. is. it. you’re going to make the change. you know it and i do too. it’s possible. nothing is impossible for the person who believes! keep the faith in yourself. nothing can stop you.

it’s like those movies where the mc finds out they hold so much power. they doubt it because of the life they’ve had so far but once they give it a shot, they become the most powerful hero ever. you are that hero!!!

i love you and i am, again, giving you the biggestttt hug ever.

now, with that being said, @blushydior​ will no longer be taking asks regarding this topic. i’ve cleared most of the questions that could ever arise. you don’t need my guidance anymore after this post! im seeing you off now. i love you. stay safe. know that you’re loved and hold the power to change your life.

— kisses from bambi ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

ps. make sure you clicked the words that have links! <3 (the links are missing)

𝐕𝐈. FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS

Something you wish you could’ve told yourself before you manifested it all to make things easier for anyone struggling:

TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF.

you guys are beating yourself up for something so simple. take a step back and realize that. you’re already dealing with such hard circumstances, so why are you literally degrading yourself for something so within your power and reach? tell yourself everything is going to be okay. you’re always doing your best. you deserve the WORLD.

I could write a whole novel, combine all the posts on tumblr teaching the law of assumption, and every helpful ask out there but at the end of the day, YOU are the only person who could change your life. YOU make the call. turn every doubtful question to a positive one, when in doubt, turn inwards toward the 4D and know that it is real. it is done the second you affirmed it so.

SPEND TIME ALONE.

i can NOT stress this enough. i didn’t include the details of my time alone in phase 2 for nothing. you’ll see that you can answer your own questions. you’ll catch the thoughts you missed because you have always been so adamant on getting answers to questions you already knew. take a deep breathe and stay firm.

SEE WHAT’LL HAPPEN IF YOU DON’T GIVE UP.

What did you affirm to get your dream life?

basically my affirmations i gave above and these. all i used were blanket affirmations.

What does persisting mean to you? What does persisting really feel like? Is it just like a mental diet? or what?

��persisting is sticking to what you want / the end no matter what you’re shown, told, and what you experience + picking yourself up after letting any negative emotions & thoughts pass by.” — blushydior from this ask here (sadly the link is missing:()

+ keeping your thoughts in line of the same category. to word this in a different way, i can affirm so many affirmations just as long as they mean the same thing to me!

“it also is a mental diet. we’re always persisting in something. it’s just a matter of what you’re persisting in. you either persist in your desire or negative/non-beneficial thought 24/7.”

“in your post about how you changed your life, you said you just affirmed and persisted. but from your other posts it seems like you read neville goddard books. so did you just affirm or did you do imaginal acts too? i get confused when people say “just affirm and persist” cause neville never said that.” (original ask here) (note from Eli: the link is missing).

“yes, i read his books and sometimes i would do imaginal acts but i would only do that bc it helped me get by my circumstances, yk? like if i was overwhelmed i would just daydream lol. its like how i read books to escape to another world. but i would say, affirming and persisting was what i focused more on.

i just used what worked for me and used his quotes as a reminder of the power of man. i didn’t want to bound myself to one’s teaching constantly worrying if im doing it “right” or not so instead, i went back to his quotes that consisted of telling me to persist, look inwards, finding confirmation in my imagination, etc whenever i needed a pick me up.

but correct me if i’m wrong, i’m pretty sure many of the success stories he shared consisted of people simply decreeing their desires and feeling the wish fulfilled simply by repetition and acceptance of their assumption.”

What is saturating your mind?

read about it here (the link is missing, but Basically it is repeating an affirmation every minute or hour until you feel fulfilled)

Do we have to believe our affirmations? Did you ever doubt the law in the process?

no, i did not believe my affirmations and YES of course i doubted the law but i kept persisting either way because what could i lose? and here i am.

Did you just affirm, persist, maintain a mental diet and that’s it? No SATS, going to the void, lullaby, repeating affirmations? Did you just got it sleep?

just affirming and persisting. sure, the occasional lullaby, i usually affirmed for 10 seconds max before i gave up. i couldn’t sleep without imagining some romantic scenario LOL #bambiexposed

How to deal with manipulation and narcissism?

remind yourself that you’re in advantage because you know about the law of assumption. life is a dream, you can literally have whatever you want just by affirming. if you know that, why allow yourself succumb to other people’s thoughts and beliefs? i couldn’t allow other people’s thoughts ruin my chance of living my dream life. the thought of it alone gave me the worst feeling.

How did you tackle the feelings of having no hope? + After being in the victim state for so long what did you do to get yourself out and actually stay out?

i persisted on loop whenever i doubted the law. i reminded myself that it doesn’t hurt to just be quiet, affirm and persist to live my dream life. just do it. you gain nothing from turning back to your old habits. see what’ll happen if you don’t give up. ❝ Do you always turn to your imagination and, no matter what happens, do you remain faithful to the state imagined? If you do, you have passed the test. But if every little rumor, doubt, or fear can move you around like a pawn on a chessboard, then you are not keeping the faith! ❞ ❝ Objects seem so independent of our perception of them that we incline to forget that they owe their origin to imagination.❞

What was the timeframe of when you got your desires?

about a week after deciding to be strict with self discipline, mind you, i was dealing with hard circumstances and intrusive thoughts for years. within this time span, i had entered sabbath so i immediately got my desires.

How did you kept a positive mindset when it looked like there was no movement?

refer back to phase 3

What was your affirming routine?

AT FIRST, when i started to get sick of overconsumption and not getting my desires, i knew my mind wasn’t saturated/my desires were not my dominant thoughts. so, i decided to be strict with myself. i reminded myself with pieces of paper in my room that said: ❝ PERSIST. new story only!❞ ❝ AFFIRM!❞

❝ 1.) the 3D conforms instantly.

2.) AFFIRM THE DESIRED

3.) BE LOT.❞

and taped them on the wall infront of my bed & one on my door so i can see it before i head out.

i didn’t need them anymore after a few days. (phase 3 & 4)

What did you do on all the days you woke up and things were still the same?

stop affirming that you don’t see results. i flipped the thought of “nothing’s changed.” to “i am in my desired reality, it is done.” and so on. be stern and remind yourself that you are in control. don’t fall prey to the 3D. turn inwards, find confirmation in the 4D. read quotes above.

How did you not react to the 3D?

i allowed myself to be angry. if i wanted to cry, i did. if i wanted to vent, i did. i ranted my feelings out in my head, aloud or in a journal then proceeded to go back to the new story after i cooled down.

But isn’t ranting “not letting the old story die out?”

you and i could rant until our minds are cleared, just as long as you flip my thoughts, you are on the right track. i ranted for 2% of my 24 hour days. the other 98% i was persisting in the fact that creation was done. as “time” went on, it began to feel more natural and i felt more at ease. i held onto that feeling because i knew this was when i would get my desires and i did. letting out and actually feeling your feelings is important. you’re not a robot.

Did you script how your life would be?

no.

(.𖥔 ݁ note from Eli: here's her post about her life before and After she changed it with LOA, anyway i wanted to make it in a post since the Google document can't let you make a copie of it and plus you can't take screenshots which René didn't allow)

[akutasoda]

hold my hand, lean on me

synopsis - jiaoqiu adjusting to domestic life with you

includes - jiaoqiu

warnings - gn!reader, spoilers for 2.5, angst w/ some comfort, fluff, maybe ooc, wc - 1.3k

a/n: i actually cannot get this darn foxian out my mind :( shouts to @thelightofmylife for some vv helpful pointers and information ^^ tbh i feel like this is just 1.3k words of word vomit HAHA

the healers finished informing you of the situation, thanking them you then closed the door to the shared abode. a sigh you didn't know you were holding back escaped alongside a glance down to the papers the healer's handed over. you could read them later, the news followed by the details of it wasn't exactly a pleasant thought, if anything it might be a final push for the tears to start falling.

your thoughts were distracted by the sound of hesitant, shuffling footsteps. turning around, you were met with the sight of jiaoqiu standing idly not too far from you - almost as if he was taking in the surroundings, although now it was more him trying to piece together the memories of what it looked like.

jiaoqiu had arrived back at the yaoqing not too long ago, admittedly rather late, but the luofu's alchemy commission had kept him for a while. he'd been forced immediately to the yaoqing’s alchemy commission as they were now the ones responsible for his treatment plan for the future. a short talk with them had then led to him being escorted back home. to you.

upon arrival, some of the alchemy commission healers explained to you about the entire situation. they kept it short but soon handed you a full document containing everything from “patient’s injuries” to “doctor’s post-charge advice” - each and every sentence pained you more and more, you refused to acknowledge what would've happened if moze hadn't found him, you would have to thank him later.

the healers had asked you to take upon the responsibility of looking after him at home, and in most day to day life scenarios - at least until he adjusted properly. they asked you to keep strict to the “post-charge advice” as otherwise it probably would cause more harm to him, making his healing process longer and maybe even worsening it beyond healing.

“jiao-ge” you called out, to let him know that you were still near. it pained to see the somber look on his face. the last thing jiaoqiu saw wasn't anyone, anywhere or anything he loved. no. it was something he hated, someone he loathed in unfamiliar territory surrounded by no-one he knew.

now he stood in familiar territory, with the person he loved the most. but he couldn't bask in the sights or even see you. all he had was memories to cast images in his mind, to help pretend that nothing was wrong and that he could see what he remembered.

you knew that he wouldn't want you doting on him. jiaoqiu needed to adjust, to learn how to go about his life as usual and you overly fussing over him would only probably annoy him and prolong that.

it had been a long day, any proper conversations could be held tomorrow. to no surprise, jiaoqiu insisted he could get ready and do everything by himself. you granted him that independence. eventually, admittedly with some help, you two were ready for sleep. and even though you were right there beside him, jiaoqiu never felt further from you.

---✩

the process was slow. nobody would've said that it was going to be anything other than that. jiaoqiu very clearly wanted independence. he didn't want to seen as a burden, he chose to do this, and knowing that people were constantly doting on him instead of continuing with their lives made him feel awful.

one of the first things you did was help make your shared abode more compatible with his needs. an easy step was making sure that everywhere was clean and free of obstruction, normally moze always

showed up and helped with cleaning as well. another step was helping jiaoqiu become able to navigate the home on his own, mainly he acted on memory but you needed to make sure that where he frequented was always obstruction free.

occasionally you could hear a bump or hurried shuffling from the room over, each and every time you dropped what you were doing and checked up on him. it was never anything major and if anything it always resulted in jiaoqiu silently cursing at the piece of furniture he walked into.

you two always adopted a verbal calling system at home. should you need to leave the room he was in, you would tell him exactly where you were going and what you were doing - that way he knew where you were. jiaoqiu would also inform you of where he planned on going just in case something happened or he got lost.

although, admittedly, for the first couple of weeks jiaoqiu stuck to you like glue. to him, it was a way to quickly adjust and therefore he wouldn't have to be a burden for long. however jiaoqiu subsequently had developed a rather interesting habit, one neither of you addressed - you because you thought it was sweet and didn't want to embarrass him, him because he didn't want to admit it.

and that was him using his tail as a guidance. at home, it was either curled around your waist, wrist or leg. in public, it lingered around your wrist, so much so that it constantly tickled you. it was a way of him making sure you were there with him, you hadn't left him and he was okay.

although most admittedly it was worse at night. he would hold you close, an ironclad grip that usually you would ask for him to let up but you knew he needed this. tail curled around your waist, preventing you from escaping. in his opinion, you helped him sleep easier, much easier than any fragrances he was prescribed.

however, this always came with a risk. due to residual lupitoxin still in his body, jiaoqiu became frequently prone to nightmares which plagued him constantly. everytime his mind was tricked into believing that the borisin were waiting, patiently looking for an opening to get revenge.

he wakes up because of them, drenched in fear and swear, and because he's so fearful the lupitoxin can take hold easier. suddenly he's tricked into believing that the borisin have found him. unbeknownst to the fact that it's you. so you sometimes take the liberty of sleeping away from him, but then he wakes up to an empty bead but he can hear someone in the room over and when he finds out it was you, sleeping away from him, he becomes consumed with guilt.

a major change for him was his inability to cook anymore. jiaoqiu was determined to do so with his impairment but he needed to learn. nowadays you cook with him. instead of being hushed out of the kitchen, you stood closely beside him, handing him the tools he needed, telling him where you put them so he could find them again on his own.

gently reminding him to lay off the spices when he requested more, he was to avoid spicy foods at all costs for the time being. a hard change, one that he absolutely despised but he knew better than to go against a doctor's order. helping him go out and buy ingredients, listening to what he told you and carrying out the tasks diligently.

---✩

and that was a shortlist of changes. you were very happy to accommodate anything for him, so long as he felt comfortable and loved. it wasn't uncommon for jiaoqiu to experience major lows, it was only natural and you needed to be there for him.

to listen to him, to show him that the support he needed was always a simple ask away - you didn't want to push to dote on him for many reasons. but that was different to showing genuine care and love to him when he started seeing himself as a useless, dependent person.

life would be different. for a while or maybe even forever, perhaps feixiao would strike lucky in her search for a healer that knew how to help. but for now, you two would have to learn how to adjust. to be there for eachother.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

[skeltnwrites]

At Least It’s Not the End of the World ♡

After protecting the kids from demodogs and sentient tunnel vines with Steve, a weekend babysitting Holly Wheeler together is supposed to be simple. That is until feelings neither of you expected start to make things way more complicated.

gn!reader, takes place in between seasons two and three, people who fight monsters together to lovers, tooth-rotting fluff 16k

── .✦

It doesn’t take long to remember why Holly is your favorite Wheeler. She’s patient and sweet, amazingly level-headed for a preschooler, and her manners could put some adults to shame. Compared to her siblings, Holly’s a little sweetheart. And a mama’s girl through and through, clinging to Mrs. Wheeler more often than not. 

Like now, she wriggles in her mom’s lap, scrunched over a coloring book at the dinner table. She squints at her box of crayons and purses her lips— choosing colors is hard when you’re five. She hasn’t said a peep since you arrived, but in the foyer, she greeted you with a clumsy wave and a sheepish smile. 

“It would be Friday afternoon to Monday morning,” Mrs. Wheeler explains, stirring a glass of lemonade with a curly straw. “I’d ask Nance but she’s having a girl's weekend.” 

You glance at Steve. You know girl’s weekend is code for spending the night with Jonathan Byers. But if he knows it too, he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t so much as bat an eye at her words. In fact, he’s relaxed under Mrs. Wheeler’s gaze. He’s sitting in a chair he’s sat in dozens of times before, talking to a woman he sees more frequently than his own mother. 

You don’t know her as well as he does, but you aren’t strangers by any means. 

“And Mike, well, he’s not old enough to watch her for that long. But he’ll be staying over at Joyce’s so you don’t have to worry about him,” she pauses to sip her drink. “I’d pay you, of course. I don’t know what your schedules look like— I know you’re probably busy with the new job, Steve— but I figured since it’s a few days, I’d offer it to you both.” 

Steve flashes an honest smile and leans forward. “Are you kidding? I’d hang with this squirt for free. I’m actually off this weekend so it works out.” 

Mrs. Wheeler beams, eyes springing to yours. 

“Yeah, I could help too,” you shrug. You also happen to be free this weekend and the extra cash would be nice. 

“Great! You both are so lovely. Oh, I was so worried, I kept telling Ted– well, it doesn’t matter now.” Her bracelets clink and clash as she reaches across the table to cover your hand with hers. “You’ll have to keep an eye on these two. She becomes quite the riot when her Stevie comes over.” 

Steve chuckles and raises his hands in defense. “She owes me a rematch at Candyland so I can’t promise anything.” 

Mrs. Wheeler’s fingers retract from yours, landing on the end of Holly’s pigtail. “She’s really missed having you over. Asks about you still.” 

Holly ducks her nose into her paper, pink traveling up her ears. 

“Is that right?” Steve teases. “I’ll have to swing by more often.” 

“Please. You’re welcome anytime, Steve. Whether Nancy’s here or not.” Her attention drifts to you. “And the same goes for you. Mike won’t stop talking about that comic book you gave him.” 

A smug grin surfaces. Out of all of the kids, Mike is a tough one to please. 

“I’ve never been away from Holly for so long. But I trust you guys.” Mrs. Wheeler pecks Holly’s crown to hide a wobbly smile, her sentence spilling out in a breathy string of words.

She really does trust you both. It would take another set of hands to count the number of times either you or Steve had driven her kids home safely. This is just different. She loves all of her kids equally, but Holly’s her baby. 

Holly’s eyes cast up at her mention, bright as a sunlit gem. 

Mrs. Wheeler smooths her daughter’s sleeves down her shoulders. “But Holly’s a good girl. Right, Hollybear?” 

She turns to bury a toothy smile in her mother’s shirt. 

Mrs. Wheeler is meticulous as she presents each and every detail of Holly’s routine. From car seat safety to emergency contacts to allergies, she covers every question you might have before you have it. 

Steve’s a good listener but he’s cursed with a very short attention span. Mrs. Wheeler lost him somewhere around Holly’s sudden aversion to mac and cheese, but she doesn’t seem to notice. You’ll fill in the gaps for him later. 

This won’t be the first time you’ve babysat with Steve. Dustin roped you both into hunting his pet lizard-turned-alien which very quickly escalated to protecting four children from not one, but several, vicious aliens. Safe to say you two are experienced enough to handle one kid for a couple of nights. 

You haven’t seen Steve much since then. It’s summer now. The demodogs and sentient tunnel vines feel much more like a dream than something that actually happened to you these days. Steve works at the Scoops in Starcourt, or so you’ve heard several times– Dustin only reminds you about every time you see him. But despite being as close to death as you’ve ever been beside Steve, visiting him at work feels strangely wrong. Like crossing a line that neither of you ever drew. 

You would not consider Steve Harrington your friend. You’re friendly, as you might be with a neighbor or coworker, but you don’t talk much outside of ​​world-ending, portal-to-another-dimension kind of events. He’s family in a weird sort of way, bound by the shared trauma and unspoken loyalty— like someone you only see at family reunions, familiar enough to care about but still a stranger in most ways. High school was a long blur and your circle of friends couldn’t have been farther from his. So you don’t know Steve, not really. But of what little pieces of him you have come to know in the last year, he’s not half bad at babysitting.

ᯓ★

On Friday afternoon, you park your car beside Steve’s shiny BMW in the Wheeler’s driveway. You take the house key that had been slipped from Mrs. Wheeler’s key ring to yours and unlock the front door. And you find that inside, it’s completely silent. Holly’s quiet as a mouse but she’s still a kid and kids make noise. 

Your bag drops onto the floor beside Steve’s shoes as you toe off your own. When the kitchen and living room turn up empty you jog upstairs. Alarm sinks in on the last step where you still hear nothing. No shouting, no laughing, no crying, no nothing. 

There’s a large window in the hall upstairs, dividing Nancy’s room from Mike's and Holly’s. In your panic, you miss the suspicious lumps in the drapes that frame it. 

As you brush by, Steve rips the curtain across the rod and shouts, “Ha! Gotch– Oh.” 

Your entire body jerks, fear cinching every nerve. “Christ! Steve!”

“Sorry, sorry!” 

Your nostrils flare with hot air as you shove him, “You scared me!” 

His open palms hover in between your chests, unsure how to help. “I thought you were Holly. Sorry.” He gives you an apologetic once-over before a breathy chuckle escapes. 

“It’s not funny. All the shit we’ve been through. God.” He’s lucky you didn’t punch him. A part of you still wants to. 

“Mommy says that’s not a nice word,” Holly says from behind you. 

You turn, shoulders sagging in relief. “I didn’t mean to say that. Sorry.” 

“Stevie, I was supposed to find you,” she whines incredulously, hands planted on her hips. 

“We can go again. I’ll find a new spot.” 

Her frown mends as quickly as it appeared and she skips back to her room to count. 

“Sorry,” Steve reminds you. “Help me find a spot to hide?” 

Soft eyes, a softer smile. It’s hard to stay mad when he looks at you like that. “Okay.” 

Twenty seconds isn’t very long to hide. Especially when Holly counts as fast as she does and when you spend half of your time standing in the hall. So you end up crouched in the corner of Mike’s closet, Steve arched over you, trying his hardest not to crush your toes. 

“Jesus. Does this kid even wash his clothes?” Steve whisper-shouts. “It smells like something died in here.” His palm snaps to the wall behind your head, the flesh of his arm warming your ear.

“You actually couldn’t have picked a worse place. Oh my God.” You press the neckline of your shirt over your nose. Steve’s wearing enough cologne to drown out the stench of dirty socks, though it’s choking you all the same. 

“We had like three seconds. I panicked!” 

You’re glaring at him but only a fraction of light filters in from underneath the door so you’d guess he doesn't see. 

The closet is the first place Holly checks when she barges into Mike’s room, but you’ve never been happier to be caught so fast. 

“My turn!” She glows in victory, pigtails swishing like yellow ribbons as she shouts. 

Steve huffs. “Let’s take a break. We’ve been playing for like an hour.” 

“Can we play tag?”

“In a little while. I’m tired.” He pinches her neck playfully until she squirms out of reach. “How’d you have all that energy?”

She shrugs with her whole body. “I dunno. I’m a kid.” 

A laugh bubbles out of your throat. When your eyes flit to Steve you find him already smiling at you. 

“What about something a little more chill,” you suggest. “We could color?” 

“Bracelets?” 

“You want to make some?” 

She nods, “I can’t reach them. The beads are on top of my closet.”  

“I’ll get ‘em,” Steve offers. “Come show me where.” 

You fan out her multitude of craft containers across the kitchen table. Beads, charms, strings, all neatly filed away. She pops open a lid and plunks down across from you. Steve takes the seat at the end in between. 

“What color bracelet are you gonna make?” you ask, raking through the rainbow of options. 

“Umm, yellow. No– green!” 

“Nice. Here’s a cute little frog charm. Want that?” 

“Mmmm. No, thank you.” 

“I’ll take it,” Steve says, stretching his hand toward you. 

You drop it in the center of his palm where it clinks against a handful of blue beads. They’re pretty and vibrant like the sea. A flicker of an idea pulls you to grab your own handful. 

Holly slides four beads onto a string, two lime green and two baby pink. She drags the other end up and they all slip off, bouncing in separate directions across the table. You smack one before it dives onto the floor and Steve catches another two mid-air. 

“Can you help me tie it?” Holly asks from under her chair, searching for the fourth. 

“Sure.” Steve swaps his bracelet for hers, triple knotting one end. “I like these colors.”

She resurfaces with a grin, voice lilting as she speaks, “Do you like purple?”

“Yeah, purple’s okay. Do you?” 

She nods, pinching a lilac gem and examining it. 

You slip into a peaceful rhythm. The bead bin rattles as Steve digs his fingers in. He murmurs something about sparkles as he shuffles. Every now and then, you peek up at him. And each time, you find that he’s fully absorbed in this, rubbing his chin or poking his tongue out in concentration. You’d even bet he’s having fun. 

“Can you tie it on me,” Holly asks when she finishes. 

Steve takes her hand gently, fingers engulfing her tinier ones. “This good?” He tugs the strings across each other at her permission, sealing it with an extra knot for good measure.  

Holly starts a second one as you finish your first. You hold it up triumphantly for them to see– red and blue beads between every white pearl. 

“Very patriotic,” Steve teases. 

“It’s for you. For scoops. These are the colors right?” 

He softens, eyes rounding like brown buttons. “Wait, really? Thank you. Wow.” He inspects it fondly where you release it in his palm. “Will you tie it?” His arm shoots over to your side of the table. 

You feel his gaze shift from the bracelet to your face as you lace it. And you pretend that it doesn’t make your cheeks burn. 

“You don’t have to wear it to Scoops if you don’t want to,” you mumble, releasing his wrist. 

“What? Of course, I’m wearing it. No one’s ever made me a bracelet before.” 

Your lips bend up into your cheeks as he leans back in his seat. He twists and turns his arm, looking it over again with a similar expression. “Now, it was supposed to be a surprise, but since I’m almost done, I actually made this for you.” He scoops up the piece he’s been working on and waves it in front of you. 

You cock an eyebrow and smirk. “You sure you didn’t just decide that since I gave you one.” 

“I didn’t! I was planning this the whole time! Right Holly, didn’t I say that?”

“No?” 

“Holly, come on now.” He elbows her arm. “Supposed to back me up.” 

“But you didn’t,” she giggles. 

“Holly doesn’t lie, Steve.” 

“Okay, I didn’t say it. But I thought it. I was gonna give it to you I swear.” He jams another couple of beads on his string. “See! Look, it has your favorite color on there.” 

“It has every color on there.” 

“One of which is your favorite.” 

You roll your eyes as he takes your wrist. His hands are warmer than yours, softer than you expect too. He stills as your palm flips face up. A jagged, fleshy ridge runs from the bottom of your pinky to the meat of your thumb. Steve was there when you got the scar. He’s never said it, but you know he blames himself for it. A demodog had you pinned in that damned junkyard school bus so Steve pushed you out of the way but you caught yourself on a broken window. 

“It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

His head dips in a silent nod. He isn’t sure whether to believe you or not. Either way, he feels sorry still.

His bracelet is a statement piece for sure. It truly has every color under the sun and a random assortment of charms and shells. But it’s sweet that he gave it to you. Even if he totally did not plan to do so at first. 

He makes a second bracelet for Holly with purple string and butterfly pendants. Holly gives her next one to him as thanks, then begins on a third for you. 

Steve stands from the table. “I’m hungry. Grilled cheese okay for dinner Holly?” She nods as do you when he asks you the same. 

Your focus drifts between him and the necklace you’re starting for Holly. He coasts around the kitchen naturally, like you imagine he would in his own house. But it’s a bizarre sight. Steve Harrington cooking you food, in the Wheeler’s kitchen out of all places. 

And he’s about as good as a chef as you expect him to be. He’s clumsy and uncertain, even dropping a spatula on the floor with an, “Oh, shi–ugar…” But he kindly refuses to accept any help or advice when you offer. 

He eventually swings around the kitchen island, brimming with pride, one plate in each hand. They’re set in the space you’ve cleared and you quickly see that the sandwiches have been cut adorably into stars. You just as quickly see– and smell– how burnt they are. They aren’t black, they’re edible for sure. But Holly’s five, and polite as she is, most kids would never willingly eat this. 

So you aren’t surprised when she looks at it in disgust, borderline horror. 

“Look, it’s a star,” Steve beams, oblivious. 

Your chest aches with the desire to laugh and an equal pang of sympathy. 

Holly shakes her head, visibly toning down her expression for his sake. “Can I have something else?” 

“It’s good! I promise, just try it.” 

She slowly shakes no again. 

“Steve,” a peel of laughter escapes your lips. “It’s burnt.” 

He scoffs. “It’s not that burnt.” 

Your mouth twitches in a funny little line and your eyes leap between him and the plate. “It’s pretty burnt, Steve.” 

After a moment of silence, he sighs and picks both plates back up. 

“Wait,” you shout, “I’ll still eat mine! Mine isn’t that bad. You did a good job!” 

He sulks at you. “You’re just saying that. I’ll make new ones.” 

“No, it’s okay, really. I’ll eat this one. I don’t mind.” 

He plants the plate in your grabby hands and spins back toward the stove. 

Round two is much better, still star-shaped, and a few shades lighter. Holly thanks him more than once while eating it without you even asking her to. If only Nancy and Mike were as precious as her. And Steve eats the first attempt, now cold, and admits that it tastes, “slightly burnt.” 

You take the empty plates to the sink to wash while Steve and Holly lug the jewelry kits back upstairs. You meet them in Holly’s room after. They’re playing house, Steve the dad, and Holly the mom, with four babydolls for children. She appoints you to be the neighbor when you join. 

You knock on her bedpost, pretending it’s her front door. “Holly, in one hour you’re gonna take a bath.”

Her head pops out from under the blanket. “Can we watch a movie before bed?” 

“Sure, but we have to do bath now if you wanna watch the whole thing.” 

“Okay!” She kicks the sheets away, jumping off the bed in a race to the bathroom. Steve winces as she steps on his hand. 

“Do you need help?” he asks, sprawled across the bed, socked feet hanging over the edge. 

“No, I got it. You can rest in peace now,” you joke, halfway through the door. 

Holly is self-sufficient enough to bathe herself so all you have to do is supervise. You find a matching polka dot set of pajamas in her dresser and a towel under the bathroom sink. And she gets dry and dressed all by herself, Miss Independent. 

“So there’s The Little Mermaid, E.T., Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory…” Steve trails off, kneeling in front of the entertainment center. 

Holly hands him a VHS tape, “This one?” 

“Ooh, good pick.” Steve feeds the tape into the player and rewinds it. 

You pat the couch cushion beside yours as Holly skips over. Steve hits the light before flopping into the recliner with a satisfied groan. The Jungle Book glows to life on the TV, casting an indigo wash over each of your faces. Holly curls into herself, knees tucked to her chest, arms wrapped tight around them.

“Here,” Steve chucks a blanket from the basket at his side. 

“Thanks.” You scoop it off the floor where it missed the couch and billow it out over you and Holly. “Don’t fall asleep, Harrington.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve folds one leg over the other and crosses his arms, eyes glued to the screen. He reminds you of Mr. Wheeler sitting in his recliner like that. It’s alarming how attractive you find it. He’s not even doing anything worth staring at. You force your eyes back on the TV. 

The credits scroll up the screen for a whole minute before you realize the movie has ended. You aren’t asleep but you aren’t totally awake either. Steve’s not far off by the looks of it and Holly, on the other hand, was out like a light halfway through. Her head presses into your upper arm, her hand scrunched in the blanket on your thigh. The weight is nice, making it all the harder to pick yourself up and get her to bed. 

But thankfully Steve’s there to help. He twists in his chair until his back clicks, smiling when he catches sight of you and Holly. “I’ll carry her up,” he whispers. 

You gently work Holly’s stubborn fingers from the blanket as Steve stands. He pushes the rest of the fabric into your lap before bending to scoop Holly up. 

“Be right back,” he says, starting toward the stairs. 

You tug the blanket higher, seeking lost comfort in its folds, though it doesn’t compare to the warmth Holly provided. 

Steve pads back down not a minute later. He stops on the last step, hanging over the railing. “You awake?” 

“Barely,” you mumble. 

Steve plods up to the front door to check the locks. He orbits into the kitchen and then back around to the living room to turn the TV off. He’s being the responsible one. You aren’t sure why this surprises you. 

“Come on,” he opens his hand toward you. 

Your arm snakes out from under the blanket, and he lifts you effortlessly. You’ve seen how strong he is, how he fights, but it still surprises you. 

“I was gonna suggest another movie but I don’t think either of us’ll make it.” 

You catch a yawn from Steve. “I know. I’m so tired. It’s not even late.” 

He hums from behind you on the stairs. “Yeah. Who knew this’d be so exhausting.” He’s only being slightly sarcastic. There’s an obvious truth to what he implied, but at the same time, it is so much harder than you realized it would be. 

You stop at the landing, sluggishly turning to face Steve. “Well, goodnight, I guess.” 

“Goodnight.” 

You splinter into opposite ends of the hall. Steve let you have Nancy’s room for obvious reasons, though he wasn’t thrilled about crashing in Mike’s bed. He’s probably better off on the couch after seeing the kid’s closet. 

You change into cozier clothes and untuck Nancy’s quilt. Like with Steve, you and Nancy aren’t really friends. It’s strange being in her room, settling into her bed. And it’s almost stranger that Steve is sleeping across the hall. Yet, there’s an odd comfort in it— being surrounded by people who went through the same thing you did. 

ᯓ★

There’s thumping in the hall– footsteps, too light to be Steve’s. You fight the urge to go back to sleep. Holly needs a babysitter. But it’s not an easy feat, not when you’re swaddled like a baby in blankets much softer than the ones you have at home. You’re warm and it’s so quiet it feels like a gift; that is, until you remind yourself that kids and quiet don’t usually go hand and hand. She could be answering the door to a stranger, scaling the counters, setting the kitchen on fire, the possibilities are endless. 

You force your heavy eyes open and flinch as a much brighter pair come into focus. 

Holly bends over you with this innocent endearment you cannot possibly be mad to be woken by. “Told you, Stevie,” she says. 

“No, you woke ‘em up, goofball.” Steve lingers at the foot of the bed in a pair of striped pajama pants and a faded Olympics tee. You’ve never seen him in pajamas before, or anything quite like it. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows and rub your eyes for a better look. 

“Sorry,” he supplies. His voice is still raspy with sleep and his oh-so-perfect hair shoots up in wild peaks. The sight makes your chest buzz. “She said you had to get up to.” 

You redirect your attention to Holly, pinching the neckline of your shirt back over your shoulder as you sit up. 

“Can we have eggs?” she asks you. 

“Sure.” 

She traps her lip between her two frontmost baby teeth. “Five?” 

“Five eggs!” Steve chides. “Just for you?” 

She turns to nod at him, smile blooming. 

He wears the same joy, ruffling her already unruly bed-head. “What are you a linebacker?” 

She giggles, clueless as to what he’s talking about. 

“Let’s start with two and if you’re still hungry you can have more,” you compromise. 

You are undeniably a better cook than Steve, but the bar is low after yesterday. You serve scrambled eggs and unburnt toast. Holly looks at her plate like she hasn’t been fed a day in her life and she shovels spoonfuls of it in her mouth like it’s her last meal. 

Steve watches her with an anxious frown. “Smaller bites, Holl.” 

She nods but doesn’t exactly slow her pace. Steve chases your eyes, knocking your ankle with his when you don’t look. He gives you that funny face parents make. Help me out. 

You shrug. “It’s just eggs. Babies eat eggs.” 

He cycles through several emotions—frustration that you won’t back him up, disbelief that babies eat eggs, and a lingering fear that she might choke. But he stops himself from asking all the what-ifs, he trusts you. 

Holly swallows half of her glass of chocolate milk in one go. Steve looks mildly horrified. 

“My God. She’s like a little human vacuum,” he mumbles through a mouthful of toast. 

You snort into your glass. If Holly heard him, she’s too preoccupied to care. 

After breakfast, Steve sets her up in front of the TV to watch cartoons while you clear the table. He disappears into the basement in search of a board game but comes back with some deflated, plastic thing. 

“What happened to the board game?” you ask. “What even is that?” 

“It’s a kiddie pool. Let’s go outside. It’s nice out.” 

“I didn’t bring a bathing suit.” 

“Me neither. Just wear that.” 

You wrinkle your nose down at your pajamas. “Go see if she wants to.” 

He smiles, retreating back into the living room. Shortly after, he shouts, “She said yes!” Footsteps pound up the stairs, followed by a second shout, “Don’t run!” 

Mrs. Wheeler calls the house phone and is pleased to hear your good report. She reminds you several times to apply sunscreen to Holly’s ears and that there’s an extra can in the upstairs bathroom. You wrangle Holly over to put her on and promise to call back before bedtime when she refuses to hang up. 

You sift through your bag, changing into the closest thing to swimwear. Steve takes forever in the bathroom, which doesn’t surprise you one bit. He comes out in a crisp white tee, way too expensive-looking for a pool day, and a pair of red gym shorts. 

“What are you, the lifeguard?” you joke. 

His hands snap to his hips. “Uhh, I’ll have you know I’ve been a certified lifeguard for two years, so yeah, actually.” 

You roll your eyes, brushing past him for the extra can of sunscreen. “Are you ready? Holly’s waiting.” 

“Yeah. Let me go blow up the pool. I’ll be outside.” 

You fix your hair in the mirror and tuck a few towels under your arm before heading downstairs. Holly’s already outside, criss-crossed in a big lawn chair and watching Steve with incredible boredom. He stands barefoot in the grass, the deflated pool pressed against his chest. He pulls away from the air valve when he notices you, quickly capping it with his thumb. 

“You okay?” you ask, laughing lightly. 

He nods, red-cheeked and breathless. “Think there’s a hole in it. Been blowin’ for like five minutes.” 

“Huh,” you drop the towels and take one end of the limp plastic. “Try again.” 

He funnels more air inside, it dispurses evenly underneath your palm. You don’t hear any air wheezing out so you turn it over for further inspection. 

“Oh, Steve. Here, look.” 

He pops his mouth off and follows your pointer finger. A second valve at the bottom, unhinged and releasing his hard work steadily. 

“Oh, you’re kidding me. Why’d they put one under there?”

You shrug, plugging it back up. “Holly, let’s get some sunscreen on so your mom doesn’t kill us.” 

Holly hops off the chair and skips to your side. You mist her skin in several layers, lathering a generous amount over her ears. When you move onto yourself, she grabs her basket of toys and climbs into the dry inflatable. Steve retrieves the hose and releases a cool stream into the pool, splashing Holly’s feet.

She squeals and scoots back. “Cold!” 

Steve’s thumb eclipses the opening so the water bursts out in wide a fan. He trains it at Holly, spraying her until she’s soaked and screaming. 

He’s giggling in a way you’ve never heard. Genuine, open-mouthed reels of laughter. You hate to admit it, but it’s really cute. So infectious you can’t help but join. 

He glances back for your reaction, pleasantly satisfied. And your smile incites a great idea. He swings the hose around, aiming it straight at you. 

“Steve!” Your arms shoot out to block the attack but it’s no use. 

“What?” he says, the epitome of innocence. 

Your eyes narrow but a smirk prevails. “Oh, you–” 

Holly tackles the back of his thigh with a scream. Steve stumbles forward and the hose slips from his grasp. 

You lunge for it before he even realizes what happened. And by the time he does, he’s already drenched. “Payback!” You laugh maniacally as he combs his hair out of his eyes. 

He’s laughing too, bent at the waist, still shaking his surprise. But only until he catches your gaze– then comes the glint of something playful, almost daring.

Steve barrels straight through the spray like a bull. He chokes your fingers over the nozzle, bending and bending the line until the water pours straight down your head. 

Holly dashes behind you to wrangle the wiggly tail of the hose, squealing at every layer of mist she catches. 

You and Steve wrestle with it, his hand on your hip, yours pushing his shoulder. He’s gentle but still strong. And his touch sears through the cold water, your skin tingling in his wake. 

The second he sticks the end down the back of your shirt you scream. “Okay, okay! I surrender!” 

He crimps the hose with one hand, smirking deviously. 

“I surrender,” you repeat, heaving through your laughter. 

Holly drops her end of the hose, backing up one slow step at a time. 

“Truce?” 

“Truce,” you nod, stepping up cautiously to shake his hand. 

He accepts your hand, using it to yank you closer and blast you again. You chase and dodge and tackle each other under the blazing sun until your legs feel like jelly. But the game eventually slows as exhaustion creeps in. 

You and Steve collapse in the lawn chairs while Holly lays belly-down in the pool. Water sloshes over the rim onto your toes as she kicks, a brief reprieve from the sticky heat. You're relaxed, but your mind wanders. You keep hoping the Wheelers won’t notice the sudden increase in their water bill. 

“Dustin talks about you all the time.”

You tear your eyes away from Holly, blinking back into reality as you face Steve. “What?”

“Dustin, he talks about you all the time. Kid loves you.” 

“Oh. He’s a sweet kid. Talks about you too. Keeps telling me to come see you at Scoops.”

Steve chuckles, more of a half-hearted puff of amusement than a real one. 

“Which, I’m sorry I haven’t, by the way,” you confess. 

His eyebrows jump, lips parting in soft surprise. “Oh, no. Don’t worry about it. He’s just being Dustin.” 

You press a blade of grass flat under your heel, as if the right words might sprout from the dirt. “I dunno. I mean, don’t you think it’s kinda weird that we don’t like talk? After everything?” 

The words bounce around Steve’s head for a minute. He fixates on your choice of weird. Weird, like bad? Weird like you want to talk? He can’t decide. And he’s afraid if he opens his mouth, the wrong words will tumble out. 

But he tries anyway, “Honestly, I thought you didn’t want to be friends. You were just so… distant after.” 

You rub the length of your arm, lips creasing into a frown. “Sorry, I was just. I don’t even know. Rattled, I guess.” 

“Yeah, rabid dogs with faces that split open and try to eat you tend to have that effect.” 

Your frown melts, little by little. 

“But we should’ve been there for you more. It was a hard time for everybody.” 

His apology echoes in your mind, the ache like a weight on your chest. 

“You could visit if you wanted to. At scoops. I could get you ice cream for free.” 

But the ache doesn’t stand a chance against the way he makes you feel. 

“Okay.” Your cheeks round with a sincere smile. “I’d like that.” 

He turns his head, as if to hide, but you still catch an echo of your own expression. Your eyes flicker across the contours of his profile, following the graceful line from his ear to his collar, before drifting over the sculpted shape of his arms and the long expanse of his thighs. Steve Harrington is objectively attractive. This isn’t the first time you’ve thought so. But it is the first time that fact makes your head spin. 

Maybe it’s the heat. The sun feels like it's roasting you alive, and Steve’s attractiveness certainly isn't helping. You’re feeling strange, thinking crazy things– the kind of thoughts that only come when you’re on the verge of heat stroke certainly. 

You stand abruptly and the grass sways underneath your feet. But you get your bearings before anyone notices. “Holly, can I come sit in the pool?”

Her eyes pop up, grin distorted underneath the water. She props her elbow up and rests her cheek in the palm of her hand. “What’s the password?”

“Umm, can you give me a hint?” 

A high-pitched hum. “Okay. She’s my favorite character.” 

“Uhh, Barbie?” 

“Nooo.” 

“Strawberry Shortcake?”

“Nooo.” 

“Hello Kitty?” 

“You’re really bad at this,” she giggles. It would be really cute if you weren’t possibly dying right now. 

“It’s Care Bears,” Steve interjects, snapping his fingers. “Uhh, the yellow one. Umm, Funshine!” 

“Yes!” Holly glows like the sun on Funshine herself. “Stevie can come in.”

Steve stands but he doesn’t get in. “Come on, Holl. It’s hot.”

“There’s a new password.”

“Okay, okay. Can I have another hint?” you ask. 

Her tongue curls out to lick the sweat off her lip. “My favorite color.” 

“Purple?” 

“Yes,” she nods and sits up. “But I really like yellow and blue and pink too.” 

You sink into the water, unsure if there was ever a wrong answer. It’s shallow and lukewarm, barely grazing the tops of your thighs, but it’s enough to cool the sun off your skin. Steve follows, and the space tightens awkwardly— the inflatable wasn’t built for three. His knee brushes yours while Holly’s toes nudge your foot, but neither of them seems to mind. 

You cup water up to your cheeks and pour it down your arms. 

“Better?” Steve asks, a droll little pinch to his features. 

He’s staring at you which is definitely not helping but you nod anyway. 

“Why don’t we move to the shade?” He stands before you or Holly agrees, offering his hand to pull you up. 

She races Steve to the nearest tree, though he doesn't stand much of a chance dragging the pool behind him. He refills it with fresh water and encourages Holly to splash you gently while he runs inside to make lunch. By the time he returns, you’re feeling much more yourself. 

“Bon Appétit,” Steve announces, lowering himself slowly onto a towel. He carries three animal-shaped plates stocked with fruit and PB&Js, one in each hand, another balanced on his forearm. 

Holly scrambles out of the water, plopping onto the other end of his towel. You get out too, shaking a second one out to lay beside theirs. 

“Lion or hippo?” he asks Holly. 

She hums for a long time, inspecting each plate meticulously before pointing to the lion.

“Good choice.” He sets the plate in front of her crossed legs and passes you the hippo. Steve takes the polar bear for himself, which notably only has half a sandwich. 

“Where’s the other half?” you ask. 

He takes a large bite, pressing his hand to his mouth to reply, “Ran out of bread.” 

“Here.” You rip one of your halves in half. 

“Thanks,” he says, syllables tangling as he chews. 

Holly watches the interaction fondly before pulling apart her own sandwich. It splits in a jagged line, mostly crust on one half. But happily, she thrusts the bigger piece toward Steve, jelly dribbling down her little fist. 

He tilts his head, a growing smile mirroring yours. “You eat it. I have enough now.” 

She crinkles her nose. “You eat it!” 

“No, you!” He squeezes her slim bicep. “You need to get big and strong.” 

“What about you?” 

“I’m already big and strong.” 

She considers this, giving him an obvious once-over that makes you laugh. “Trade?” 

“Okay, trade.” Steve chuckles, exchanging one of his halves for hers. He licks a stripe across his knuckle where her sticky fingers brushed his. It’s as innocent as the gesture can be but something about it has your cheeks burning in a way the sun couldn’t. 

Conversation tapers off, replaced with an easy quiet. Your stomach is satisfied with the food, but it’s your heart that feels the most nourished, steeped in the comfort of good company. You hadn’t expected to enjoy hanging out with Steve or Holly this much. 

Holly slouches into your arm, stretching her legs across the grass like a bridge between the towels. Her heels push into the pudge of Steve’s thigh, the faintest smirk crossing her lips. 

He squeezes her ankle until it darts away. 

Gradually, she presses again and in turn, he squeezes, but this time he doesn’t let go. She squeals as he drags her down your side. But all hell breaks loose when he starts tickling the bottom of her foot. 

She shrieks, thrashing and squirming against his hold, giggling in between gasps. “Ste–vie!” she cries.

Her laugh is too pure of a sound to be real, Steve thinks. His resolve crumbles, grip faltering. And Holly’s heel slams smack into his jaw. Steve winces, bending away to cradle his cheek. 

You straighten up. “You okay? Let me see.” 

Holly’s legs go limp in the grass, her shoulders tense in your lap. 

Steve’s hand slackens unveiling a red splotch not much darker than his sunburnt cheeks. He meets your eyes with a dismissive shake, “It’s okay.” 

You believe him. It doesn’t look nearly awful enough to make your concern stick. And his face has been through worse. Billy Hargrove painting his fists red with Steve’s blood is one of the things you remember most about that night. 

His attention dips down to Holly. She sniffles, eyes glistening in the sunlight with a frown nearly reaching her chin. 

“It’s okay. I’m okay, Holl.” 

Holly putters, whimpers drowning the edges of her words. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay! I promise! It doesn’t even hurt,” he reassures, cupping her kneecap. 

You tug her off the ground and she sinks into your arms naturally. Hot tears pave a path down your neck only to dissolve in the fabric of your shirt. You coax her sobs out, one back rub at a time. 

Steve waits until she settles with this pitiful look on his face. “I know you didn’t mean to Hollybear. Just an accident. Hmm?” 

She nods against your chin. 

He strokes the back of her arm, fingers grazing yours where they work. “Please don’t cry.” 

Holly sniffles. 

“You know what might help me feel better?” She lifts a sweaty cheek off your chest as Steve opens his arms. “A hug.” 

She pushes out of your hands into his. He holds her tight, providing one loving squeeze after another. 

This is not how you pictured Steve to be under normal babysitting circumstances. A voice like sweet honey, eyes warm like the sun. He’s very soft, and so undeniably kind. And not just to Holly, but also you. 

Steve hooks the spare towel closer, draping it across her back. “Lean back,” he tells her. 

She avoids his gaze as she does, tears melting away under his touch. 

“You know what I think?” He cinches the towel at her collar like a cloak. 

She hums. 

“I think we should have popsicles for dessert.” 

Holly meets his eyes then, excitement glimmering underneath the droop of lingering guilt. 

“How does that sound?”

“Good,” she admits meekly. 

A smirk thins his lips. “I dunno though. What if we get a tummy ache?” He pokes her belly through the towel. “Maybe it’s not–”

“No– I want one!”

“I dunnooo,” he sings.

“Please, Stevie! You already said.”

“How bad do you want it? Like this much?” He pinches his fingers together, leaving the slightest gap between them. 

“No, no!” She shakes her head, casting her arms out as far as they’ll go. “This much!” 

He sighs loudly, shoulders sagging for the dramatic touch. “Okay.” 

Holly’s arms curl around his neck as he stands. He’s more than happy to carry her, but the added weight makes him groan. 

You trail behind automatically, half enjoying the show and just as excited for a treat. Steve pins the back door open with his foot, returning a smile you hadn’t realized you were sharing. Your cheeks are starting to protest, sore with overwhelming happiness. 

“What color do you want?” 

“Pink! Pink!” Holly shouts in his ear, loud enough to make you wince. But Steve doesn’t react in the slightest to her volume. You’d all taken a piece of the Upside Down with you after El sealed it up. And just when you seemed to forget it, you’d be reminded in the form of scars, nightmares, headaches, and in Steve’s case, hearing loss. 

He opens the freezer, Holly propped on his hip. She’s far too big to be carried like that comfortably but he does it anyway. 

“Pink for Holly. Red for Steve.” He leans back to find your face. “For you?” 

You purse your lips, “Surprise me.” 

Steve stows Holly on the countertop so he can snip the plastic tips. She receives her popsicle first, then you, and finally Steve. 

“Matching,” Holly observes as you sit beside them on the couch. 

Steve crosses his popsicle over your identically red one when you raise an eyebrow. “Look at that,” he says. 

She hums, gnawing on the plastic wrapper. Steve pushes the ice up for her and thumbs away the dribble at the corner of her mouth. She doesn’t seem to notice, but it catches you off guard. Steve’s such a natural at this you almost can’t believe he’s an only child. 

You turn the TV on to an episode of Care Bears as Holly slumps into Steve’s chest, slurping the last of her slush loudly. 

“Sleepy?” you ask when she kneads her eyes. 

“No.”

You chuckle, combing her frizz back. “Okay.” 

“You know, it’s okay if you are sleepy,” Steve mentions, equally amused. 

“I know. I’m not.” Her tone is casual, a portrait of nonchalance, despite the yawn that slips out afterward. 

You and Steve exchange a look of mutual fondness. 

“I’m pretty tired,” Steve declares, reclining into the cushions with a fake yawn. “I think I’ll take a nap.” 

Holly twists against him to watch. It doesn’t take long for her little fingers to poke and prod his lashline.

He peels one eye open, playfully cocking an eyebrow. 

She giggles and pinches the skin closed. 

You’re trapped between nervously supervising she doesn’t poke his eye out and leaving to get a baby wipe for her hands which you imagine are very sticky with popsicle juice. Either way, you’ll be surprised if Steve doesn’t have pink eye by morning. 

“I’m sleeping,” he whines and headbutts her palm gently. 

“Nooo,” she whines back, wedging her hand across his mouth. Delirium is setting in, a nap is imminent. 

Steve opens his eyes, giddy just the same. “Okay. You got me.” 

Holly frees his mouth to swipe a streak of red from his chin. Her tongue pokes out in prime concentration. 

A staggered laugh of disbelief is shaken from Steve’s chest. He hadn’t expected Holly to be difficult, but she’s been nothing short of delightful. She’s sweeter than Mike and Nancy combined and smarter than he thought kids her age could be. For a self-indulgent second, he hopes that his kids will turn out something like her. 

Holly reels back around to lay on her side, eyelids sagging with an inevitable heaviness. Steve draws the towel up to her chin, fixing his palm to her back. You watch her drift off, eyes slipping up every so often. 

When you’re positive she’s out, you cautiously dislodge the popsicle wrapper from her fingers. Steve passes his as you stand. 

One of the many hard things about kids is all the cleaning. Holly’s as neat as a five-year-old gets, and still, every moment of peace is an opportunity spent putting things back where they belong. You head outside to tip the pool over and collect stray towels and toys that didn’t make it back in. 

By the time you return, Steve’s passed out, mouth ajar, head craned back against the couch. It’s not a particularly attractive expression– he’d probably be embarrassed to wake to your staring– but you can’t find anything other than endearment in yourself.  

You shower and change into fresh clothes and end up on the opposite couch to watch TV. But Care Bears isn’t all that entertaining anymore so you rest your eyes for just a second. 

A second turns to several and when you reopen your eyes you discover the clock is two hours ahead of where it was before. 

The silence is only comforting for a fleeting moment before anxiety creeps in. Your eyes flick from the TV, now powered off, to the other couch where Steve and Holly are not where you left them. Nor are they in the dining room, kitchen, basement, or backyard. You take the stairs two steps at a time and nearly trip over a blanket strewn across the banister when Holly screams. 

You’d have kicked her door off the hinges if it came to it but are thankful it’s already open. Holly is perfectly safe, bent over the remnants of what you assume was a pillow fort. 

You release a breath caught in your throat and sag against the doorframe. Steve offers an apologetic smile when he notices. 

Holly glances over but quickly returns to their game. “You’ve destroyed my kingdom!” she shouts, drilling a finger into Steve’s chest. “Off with your head!” 

You’re too stunned to laugh, but a noise of confusion skips out. Steve gawks at Holly in pretend despair, scrubbing any seeping amusement off his lips with the back of his hand. He’s dressed in sweats, Holly in a princess dress. But more importantly, his face has been caked in makeup and his hair twisted into two fluffy knots. 

“You!” Holly yells with a scowl aimed at you. “Hold him down!” 

Steve pleads at your ankles, pressing his forehead to the carpet in prayer. It takes every ounce of you not to break character and laugh. There’s something so surreal about Steve Harrington, former King of Hawkins High, in sparkly eyeshadow, kneeling before a little girl to beg for his life. It’s hilarious as it is heartwarming. 

“If I may propose a suggestion!” You counter, equally dramatic. “A trade! For this silly man’s life, we will help rebuild your kingdom twice as big! Princess I–” 

“Queen!”

Steve snorts but she must miss it. 

“My apologies. Queen Holly, I can assure you this new Kingdom will have all of the finest luxuries that royalty like yourself might desire.” 

She takes a second to process the big words. “Fine!” She sneers, diving onto her mattress which is absent of all its sheets and blankets. “Chop! Chop!”

You bite your lip, chasing the fervent smile away. Steve gets right to work, sorting pillows from most to least sturdy. You steal another chair from Nancy’s desk and help Steve double-knot the roof to it. It’s no mansion, but it is long enough for Steve to lie down in, which is a job well done in your book. Especially when you’re under strict supervision and listening to a thread of loud critiques. 

You lift the door flap for Holly to crawl through. “Your quarters, Your Grace.” 

She glances over her shoulder with a wicked, but mostly adorable, expression. “My name is not Grace! It’s Holly! Queen Holly to you!” 

The explanation dies on your tongue because how can you possibly argue with that? You’re just grateful to still have your head. 

After the grand tour, Queen Holly disappears into one of the tent’s offshoots with a handful of stuffed animals she's referring to as her royal guards. 

Steve scoots closer, whispering behind his hand, “I think we need to stage a coup.” 

You lean into his good ear, affection spilling off your tone, “I didn’t know she could be so mean.” 

“Me neither! She must be hanging out with Mike.” 

“Must be.” You grin for what feels like the millionth time today. 

You’re sitting knee to knee, close enough to catch the heat of Steve’s breath on your cheek. You drag the pad of your finger across his cheekbone where teal eyeshadow has been caked on in several layers. “I like this,” you compliment. 

I kinda forgot she put that on.” He ducks his head bashfully, peeking up through his eyelashes. “Do I look pretty?” 

“The prettiest.” 

He receives it as teasing, but it’s true, you do think Steve is pretty. A strong nose, kind eyes, and sure, maybe the hair. But now that you’re inches apart, you notice twin smile lines, a series of freckles down his cheek, and a faded scar across his forehead. You linger there more than anywhere else, under the guise of judging Holly’s makeup job, of course. 

But the silence twists into something less comfortable with each passing second. A brief twitch of emotion flickers across Steve’s face, gone before you can name it. “So… pizza for dinner?” he blurts out. 

Before you’ve processed what happened, Holly shouts, “Cheese please!” 

Steve splinters from your gaze, calling back, “Yes, My Queen.” 

Dinner is pleasantly easy. The pizza’s delivered and paper plates save you from the hassle of dishes after. You eat at the kitchen table, sharing stories and smiles, strangely like a family. 

And after dinner, Holly has a bath; and after bath, Steve whisks her off to bed. You’re left to your own devices for once, a benevolent bout of peace, but still, you can’t seem to relax. 

The spray of the bathroom light paves the hall leading to Holly’s room. You tiptoe up to the door and peek inside. 

Steve’s on the floor, slouched against the side of the bed cradling Holly to his chest. He flinches as your shadow veers across the moonlit wall.  

“Sorry,” you whisper, dropping onto your knees beside them. 

Holly picks her head up, tear tracks shimmering as she turns. Her lip wobbles through a whimper. 

You soften like wax near a flame, eyes flitting to Steve who looks equally at a loss. 

She curls her knees into his tummy in a way that probably hurts. The poor thing dissolves into fresh tears, spilling out faster than Steve can chase away. 

“Holls, it’s okay, honey. Me and Stevie are here, okay?” 

She strains to speak through a chain of gasps, “I want my Mommy!” 

“I know, I know. She’ll be back before you know it, I promise,” you steer sweat-slick hair behind her ear. 

“I want her now.” 

“We’ve got ya, Holl,” Steve chimes in. 

“We’re right here.” 

“No– Mommy!” 

It goes like this for a while, soothing reassurances met with unyielding resolve. Holly’s not one to be stubborn for no reason. She’s so exhausted and upset it breaks your heart. You try reading and music and back rubs but there seems to be no end to her sobbing. 

Steve strokes her ankle where it’s now tucked underneath her in your lap. He looks exhausted– hair draped over his forehead like a claw, extra weight embedded in each of his eyelids. You’re both at your breaking point. “You wanna sleep with me tonight Hollybear?” he says in a tone gentler than you’ve ever heard. 

“No. Mommy,” she persists. 

“You can sleep with her when she gets back. But tonight you get to have a sleepover with Steve. Or you can even sleep with me in Nancy’s bed, okay?” 

Red-rimmed eyes flick between you and Steve. Neither option is as good as Mom. 

“Both,” Holly whines. 

“Wanna lay with both of us?” 

She nods. “In the middle.” 

“Okay,” you turn to Steve. “We can do that.” Your words are colored like a question but he’s already nodding his answer. 

He shovels Holly from your lap, cheek pressing into hers in an unspoken exchange of relief. “Alright, munchkin. Let’s go steal Nancy’s big bed. Sound good?” 

She hums her approval into his ear. 

Steve pokes Nancy’s door open with his foot, swinging around to the tucked side of the bed. You crawl across your end as Holly slides off his chest. She molds herself against your shoulder, tugging Steve closer when he settles. 

“Goodnight, Hollybear,” he says. 

She steals your hand from underneath the comforter, then his where it lies on the sheet. Your knuckles brush Steve’s where they are stapled to her chest. “Goodnight,” she sighs. 

Steve strokes up and down the back of her hand, his touch a quiet catalyst. She’s asleep in mere minutes, snoring softly, fingers limp against yours. 

Steve nudges your hand where it’s already pressed to his, whispering when you turn, “Am I crazy that I find all of this kinda fun?” 

You shake your head, a smile working its way across your lips. “Guess that would make me crazy too.” 

“I know I always complain about driving those little shits around but Holly’s actually really fun to babysit.” 

“Yeah, she is. At least it’s not the end of the world this time, right?”

“Yeah, that probably helps, huh?” Amusement ebbs into a sigh. “I’m kinda dreading going home, to be honest.”

“Why don’t we put Mike in a wig? Kidnap Holly for ourselves.” 

He snorts into his pillow. “Oh, yeah. That’ll work. ‘Yeah, I dunno Mrs. Wheeler, she had a crazy growth spurt while you were gone.’”

“We’d take good care of her.”

“We would,” he nods. “You’re really good with her.” 

“So are you. Kinda surprised me actually.”

“Really? Cause Dustin tells me weekly I’d make a good mother.” 

“Yeah, but they’re different. Older. And don’t get me wrong, you’re great with them and they love hanging out with you. Holly’s just little. You’re so much gentler with her, and like, you always seem to know what to do.” 

“For the record, I have no clue what I’m doing.”

“Me neither. I don't know what Mrs. Wheeler was thinking asking us to do this.”

Intertwined laughter fades, but something else— something similar— lingers. An almost tangible buzz of energy, as if the silence itself is alive with unspoken words. You entertain the idea that the feeling’s not exclusive to just you. That Steve hears the same jitter in his pulse and feels the same flutter against his ribs. That you aren’t alone to be feeling such a way.    

“Is it–” 

“Are we–”

“Sorry, you go,” he jabbers out. 

The words trickle back down your throat, too thick to cross your tongue again. “You can probably go now,” you decide. 

His gaze jumps to Holly’s chest where his hand is still coupled with one of hers. 

“If you want,” you amend. “You don’t have to.” 

“You don't mind? If I stayed?”

You shake your head.

“Just worried she’ll wake up if I move.” 

You try to flatten your excitement as you reply, “You can stay.” 

His gaze swims with yours across Nancy's room, skimming over the cluttered dresser, the desk strewn with books and pens, to the shuttered closet doors.

“Sorry about– you know– I heard Nancy… dumped you,” you say, immediately regretting the awkward phrasing.

“Harsh,” he squints and casts you a bittersweet grin. “But true.”

“Is it… weird? To be in here?” 

“A little. But not as much as I thought it would be. Hell of a lot better than Mike’s room.” 

You hum, watching the gentle shift in his brows. 

“Is it weird for you?” 

“Me?” you ask. “In what way?” 

“You and Nance. You don’t always see eye to eye.” 

“I mean, yeah. When our decisions involve risking our lives– or the kids– she’s pretty damn impulsive. And she can be real stubborn and selfish sometimes too. But I dunno, I still love her. She’s been sort of like a sister since everything started. I think that’s why we argue.” 

“What does that make me? Your brother?” 

You roll your eyes. “No, you’re the stray dog we adopted.” 

“Okay. That’s just mean.”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” Your laugh laps out louder than you intend, but Holly remains still. “I dunno who you’d be. The love interest?”

“I can work with that, sexy love interest–”

You scoff. “Don’t put words in my mouth, Harrington.” 

“Okay, okay. But love interest because…”

“Cause you dated Nance.”

“Oh,” he exhales. 

“You don’t agree? Should we go back to stray dog?” 

“Oh, shut up. I’m going to bed.” Steve rolls onto his side with a sigh. 

“Keep your snoring to a minimum, please.” 

He grumbles, narrowing his eyes at your smirk. “I don’t snore.”

“You do. I could hear it from here last night.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I did,” you argue. “It definitely wasn’t Holly.” 

“Whatever. Goodnight.” 

“Night.” 

Only when your eyes are closed does his smile finally emerge. It’s silly how quickly you can pull it out of him. It throws him for a loop every time. But with you at his side, maybe he’ll dream of happier things for once. Either way, it’s easier to fall asleep, just knowing you’re there falling asleep too. 

ᯓ★

“Shhhh!” 

“No, you shhhh,” a lighter voice giggles. 

“Holly,” Steve scolds, mirth buttering his tone. You know he’s smiling by the sound alone. 

Holly’s laughter triples in volume but then is abruptly muffled. 

“Ew– did you just lick me?” 

And this all just sounds way too cute to miss out on. You pry your lashes apart, still sticky with sleep, and flip on your side to face them. 

They freeze, eyes widening adorably in sync. Steve is reclined against the headboard, an arm bent behind his neck. Holly is sprawled halfway across his tummy, toes tickling your side. 

“Sorry,” he offers like you’d be mad. But how could you possibly be anything but enamored waking up to their giggly little voices? If you could be woken up like this every day, you would. 

You shake your head, scratching underneath your eyes. The walls are bathed in muted colors, waiting to be warmed by the sunrise. It’s still early. 

Holly rolls off of Steve onto the floor and barrels out of the room. 

“Where are you going?” he shouts. 

“Potty!” 

Steve turns to you, eyes roving across your bedhead for an embarrassingly long amount of time. “Good morning.”

“Morning.”

“Did she kick you last night?” 

You rake your fingers through your hair, quickly moving them to your lips to stifle a yawn. “Not that I remember.” 

“Oh, you’d remember. Trust me. She was on top of me the whole night.” He’s smiling like an idiot. He couldn’t sound annoyed about it if he tried. 

“Aww, she loves you,” you coo. 

“Yeah,” he agrees, pink dusting his cheeks, “I can’t wait to do this.”

“Hmm?”

“Settle down. Have a family. I wasn’t, like, a hundred percent sure before, but I am now.” 

“You’ll be a good dad.”

He beams at you like he’s just won the lottery. “You think?” 

“For sure.” And he really would. You’re sure of it after last night. 

He opens his mouth to speak but your stomach cuts him off with an obnoxious growl. “Hungry?” Steve chuckles. 

“Shut up.” You swipe your pillow and smack him. 

He smacks you back, pulling it to his chest before you can steal it. “Wanna go out for breakfast?” 

Your brain short circuits. You forget you’re babysitting and not just laying in bed with Steve Harrington for fun. He is not asking you on a date like your heart assumes. 

“Oh, yeah. Sure. For sure,” you sputter out, heat licking up the back of your neck. 

“I’ll go see what she wants,” he slides onto the floor and shakes his legs awake. 

Steve’s tall, even sluggishly slumped over. But even more so as he stretches– arms rising with his shirt, revealing a fraction of golden skin above his waistband. A long, lazy moan climbs out of his chest. 

You push the comforter off before you burst into flames. 

Holly determines she wants IHOP because they put chocolate chips and sprinkles on the pancakes. Steve supplies her with an outfit and wrestles her hair into pigtails with bows to match her skirt. It’s surprisingly coordinated and admittedly cute, but maybe you’re wrong to be so surprised– he knows his way around a comb and a closet. 

“Can I get pancakes?” she asks Steve, perched on the bottom step of the stairs. 

He’s cross-legged on the floor, hunched over to lace her sneakers. “I already told you yes, silly goose.”

“Can I get extra sprinkles?”

“Uhh, does your mom let you?”

She thinks about it before answering. “Yes, I think so.” 

“Sure, then.” He grins, clapping her tied shoes together before standing. 

You shoulder Holly’s bag, stuffed with books and toys and a jacket in case it rains, courtesy of Steve who insisted she might need it. “Ready?” you ask him.

Steve races Holly to the car while you lock up. Mrs. Wheeler installed Holly’s car seat in Steve’s beamer before she left but you’ve yet to use it. 

“It’s too tight,” Holly whines from the car, loud enough to hear from the top of the driveway. 

“I know, ‘m working on it,” Steve assures, working his fingers under the straps. “Just gotta figure it out.”

“Hurry!” 

“I’m hurrying, Holl. Give me a sec’.” 

You open the passenger door and peek around the headrest to view her. The belts are buckled but not tight enough to spark concern. “He’s going as fast as he can, Holly. Be patient.” 

She squirms under his hands, exhaling sharply. And like her, Steve’s frustration mounts, jaw tightening, brow furrowing. His fingers keep slipping and he’s not totally sure which button or strap is for loosening. 

You swing around to Holly’s door and cup Steve’s shoulder. “Let me try.”

He knocks his head on the roof as he pulls out. 

You wince, “Okay?” 

He softens as you reach for his neck, though your fingers never land. Still, the tender look you offer is enough to cure any bumps or bruises he might’ve gotten. 

It’s an unfortunate amount of trial and error before Holly is fastened in properly. Steve cranks the AC on full blast when you finally settle into your seats and circles through radio stations after he backs out. He finds the kid’s station, playing a Muppet’s song that Steve apparently knows every word to. He sings unapologetically loud, a stupid grin sewn to his face. 

When you arrive, Holly happily holds your hand through the parking lot, still clutching tightly as you wait to be seated. She climbs onto your lap to make room on the waiting bench for a woman looking ready to pop out a baby any minute. Steve stands at your other side, arm braced behind your neck. 

“How old is she?” the woman asks you fondly. 

“She’s five,” you return her smile, bouncing your knee. “Right, Holly?”

Holly twists to hide in your neck, nodding. 

“She’s very cute,” she says with such love you already believe her baby is in good hands. “Your sister?” Her eyes flick from yours to Steve who is mostly oblivious to the conversation. 

“No, just babysitting.” 

“Oh, well, you’ll make good parents one day.” 

The comment renders you speechless. It’s not that you hadn’t considered children before, but you hadn’t pictured them with Steve. With his smile, his eyes, his nose. It’s that this woman who doesn’t even know you imagined it before you had. You blink at her stupidly through a forced smile.

Steve squeezes your shoulder, ripping you from your thoughts. “You okay? Table’s ready.” 

You get seated in a booth overlooking the parking lot. 

Holly bends across Steve’s lap to point through the window. “I see our car!” 

“Yeah, that’s her.” 

Holly’s face contorts with confusion. “Her? Your car’s a girl?” 

“Yep–”

The waitress swings over with a handful of menus and a hasty introduction. Steve already knows what he wants and he places Holly’s order after his, making sure to clarify the extra sprinkles when she calls his name repeatedly to remind him. As soon as you decide, the waitress bustles off with the pair of menus to another table. 

Holly slides her paper menu closer, examining each activity. 

Steve picks open the box of crayons, revealing a stingy three– red, green, and blue. “You know, for a multi-million dollar company, you’d think they could afford more than three crayons.”

“And more staff,” you add, eyes tailing another waitress zipping from one table to another. 

Holly points at herself, Steve, and then you, counting, “One, two three. Three crayons for three people.” 

“Yeah, good point,” Steve pats her thigh. “Always the optimist.” 

“Op-ta-nist?”

“Op-ta-mist,” he clarifies. 

She snags the green crayon and presses it to the paper. “What’s that?”

Steve opens and closes his mouth. “Well, it’s like– it’s when you– you’re happy a lot. Grass is always greener on the other side, you know?” 

Steve lost her at the metaphor but she’s too focused on staying inside the lines to care about the definition of optimist anymore. 

“You got there eventually. Sort of,” you tease. 

His foot stabs your ankle under the table. “Shut up.” 

Steve lets Holly win every single round of tic-tac-toe while showering her with praise, convincing her she's a tactical mastermind. You can’t quite tell if she’s onto him, but she’s too busy grinning to say otherwise.

The waitress plants your and Steve’s plates on the table first, reaching behind to scoop Holly’s off her tray next. “And, chocolate chip pancakes with extra sprinkles for the little one.” 

“Thank you,” you manage to say before she leaves to tend to another table flagging her down. “Holly, want syrup?”

“Yes, please.” 

You pour a spiral of maple syrup over Holly’s pancakes. The amount of sugar on her plate might qualify it more as candy than breakfast. And she’s ogling the food like it’ll grow legs and run away. 

“Steve, will you cut them up for her?”

He nods, swallowing a mouthful of scrambled eggs and trading his fork for a knife. As soon as he slides her meal back over, Holly ravages the pancakes, spooning another bite in her mouth before she’s swallowed the last.

The waitress whisks by with drink refills, joy driving her to a smile at the sight of Holly and her half-empty plate. 

“I swear we feed her at home,” Steve chuckles through his own joke. What a dad thing to say. “Can we get some more napkins?” 

And it’s like he knows what’s going to happen. Holly stretches across the table for the syrup bottle, drawing back with an open-mouthed grimace. 

“Uh-oh.” She presses her chin to her chest. There’s a patch of syrup turning the hem of her pink shirt brown. 

“What?” Steve throws a pigtail behind her shoulder so he can see. “Oh. It’s okay.” 

“It was an accident,” Holly explains. 

“I know. It’s okay.” 

“It’s sticky.”

“It’ll wash off.” Steve dunks a clean napkin in his cup of water and dabs it across the stain. 

“It’s too cold,” she complains, pinching the fabric away from her skin. 

“Sorry. It’ll dry. Have to get the syrup out, though.” 

You deliver another wad of napkins to Steve’s hand. He pushes them against her belly, soaking up any excess water. His patience never frays.

Holly looks up, worry etched into her voice, “Will it stain?” 

“I dunno,” you supply truthfully. “We’ll throw it in the wash when we get home.” 

Steve pays the bill with the cash the Wheelers left and scrapes his wallet for change, stacking two quarters on the table when he finds them. “Since you’ve been such a good listener. There’s a sticker machine up front,” he tells Holly. 

Steve might as well have slapped a ticket to Disney World on the table. Holly literally jumps for joy, right out of her seat. She buys a random Lisa Frank sticker and pockets the second coin for her piggy bank. 

It’s Steve’s idea to go to the playground afterward. The park is teeming with life, the kind of chaos that only a weekend morning can bring. Swings creak under the weight of eager kids, and the monkey bars have their own traffic jam. Parents wrap the playground like a barricade, their chatter drowned out by laughter and shouts. But the heat presses down ruthlessly, making every step feel like you’re wading through a sauna.

Holly tears away from Steve’s hand as soon as her shoes hit the mulch, rejoicing in her newfound freedom with a little skip. She races up a set of stairs to wait for a turn on the tallest slide. 

“Should’ve brought sunscreen,” Steve says, eyes following Holly down the slide. She flashes you both a prideful smile from the bottom. 

“She’ll survive. We won’t stay long. It’s too hot.” You pull your shirt out to fan your chest, dabbing the sweat beading at your sternum. 

“Careful!” he shouts as she hops from one platform to the next. She continues to bounce along the path, one wobbly leap at a time. A particularly long jump has Steve cringing. He’s trying really hard not to be overanxious and it’s as sweet as it is amusing. 

He side-eyes your grin with an opposing frown. You don’t even have to say anything for him to know you’re teasing him. “What?” 

You shrug, smile doubling. “You.”

“What about me?” 

“You’re just funny.” 

“My concern is funny to you?” he accuses. 

“She’s fine, Steve.” 

He makes a noise of disagreement, arms crossed and a hip popped out dramatically far. You see why Dustin teases him for being motherly. 

Holly struggles with the monkey bars. She makes it halfway across before her arms start to shake and her hands slip. Steve lunges forward as he watches her plummet to the ground. But before he can swoop in, Holly pops up, dusts the dirt from her skirt with a nonchalant shrug, and marches on, completely unfazed. 

“See. She’s fine,” you reassure.

“Whatever,” Steve grumbles, strolling away to sulk in private. 

He makes a slow lap around the playground, hands planted firmly on his hips, casting a critical eye over the chaos. Meanwhile, you snag a spot on a bench, where most parents are engrossed in magazines or gossip, blissfully detached. You watch Steve get roped into playing a monster, though you can tell he secretly loves it. 

It doesn’t take long for him to start stomping around, roaring and growling, chasing the kids as they shriek and scatter. And when they finally tire him out, he collapses beside you, his shirt clinging to his sweaty back, and his breath coming in ragged bursts. 

“I told her five more minutes,” he says, stretching an arm across the back of the bench behind you. His curls shine honeycomb gold in the spray of sunlight and his skin echoes the warmth of desert sand, softened pink like the blush of sunset. He looks strikingly gorgeous sprawled out beside you. 

Holly trots over not much later, alarmingly upset. 

You sit up, urgently shaking Steve’s thigh to grab his attention. “What happened, honey?” 

“I– I was,” she sucks in a staggered breath, “I was climbing the stairs and– and a boy, he pushed me.” Twin rivulets of tears are unleashed with a blink, converging at the curve of her chin. 

You scan her from head to toe. Nothing looks broken or bloody. “Are you hurt?” 

“No,” she strains. 

You drag her into your chest, pressing a loving cheek to her ear. “Did it scare you?” 

She nods, hiccuping into your neck. 

“I’m sorry, Holly. That wasn’t nice at all.” 

Steve’s gaze shifts between Holly and the playground to search for guilty suspects. He finds none, thankfully, though he’s still itching to wring out whatever parent it is not watching their kid– which is unfortunately most of them.

“Let me see,” he coaxes Holly over for his own checkup. He picks a piece of mulch from her hair and flicks off another stamped into her calf. “Think you’ll make it? Should we call an ambulance?” 

She doesn’t smile at his joke like you hope. 

“Ready to go home?” you ask.

She sniffs into her sleeve. “Yeah.” 

“Alright.” Steve hoists her up as he stands. Holly's long legs wrap around his waist, feet swaying against his thighs as he walks. 

Holly naps on the way home, not by choice but by sheer exhaustion. She convinces herself she didn’t actually fall asleep when she wakes up in the driveway, swearing, “I just closed my eyes.” 

But it’s quickly apparent that twenty minutes was not enough. She cries because her leftover pizza for lunch is cold in the middle and again when she rubs the sauce in her eye. You turn on a movie, hoping to induce another nap, but The Aristocats is just too good to sleep through. Thankfully, her grumpiness wanes into a more manageable pout, her arms uncrossing to snuggle closer to you on the couch.

When the movie ends, she slinks up, her departure leaving your lap cold. After a long-winded debate about what to do, you all finally agree on playing a board game. Steve steers Holly downstairs to pick one out and she returns with a rekindled excitement, dropping the game Twister at your feet. 

There’s nothing inherently wrong with Twister, but you were expecting something easier. Candy Land or Chutes and Ladders. So you let Steve and Holly go first. The round ends in a heap of tangled limbs and giggles, a winner unclear. But Holly wins the match against you, admittedly fair and square. And it’s all fun and games until she insists you and Steve must compete. 

“Ehh, Holly. My arms are tired,” you reason. 

“But I wanna be the referee too,” she whines. “Pleaseee!” 

Steve shrugs at you, a playful little curve to his lips. If you say no, that makes only you the bad guy. And you just can’t bring yourself to break Holly’s heart over something so simple. 

“Okay,” you sigh, ignoring the nervous tick in your chest. 

Holly pushes you by the hips onto the mat to stand opposite Steve. She gets situated on the floor and excitedly flicks the spinner, calling, “Left foot. Blue!” 

You each step toward a blue dot. Easy. 

“Right foot on green.” 

Right foot, green. You’re shoulder to shoulder now, hips angled toward his. 

“Right hand… yellow!” 

“Here we go,” you mumble, bending down to reach yellow. “Okay.” 

Steve chuckles and follows suit, free hand hovering awkwardly behind your shoulder. 

You twist your head until you can’t, just to see the stupid look on his face. “You know, your long legs really give you an unfair advantage here.” 

“Don’t be a sore loser,” he chides, hot breath fanning the back of your already hot neck. 

“Don’t speak so soon, Harrington. You’re the one who’s gonna lose.” 

“Right hand, red,” Holly announces. 

You lean back toward red, headbutting Steve’s side so you don’t fall. He curls into position next, swaying until his back pocket is inches from your nose. 

“Oh my God, Steve. Get your butt out of my face!” You’d shove him if you had an extra hand. 

Holly giggles in that contagious way kids laugh, automatically pulling one from Steve. 

“Don’t make me laugh. If I go down, so are you,” he reminds you. 

“Umm, left foot green,” Holly says. 

Steve groans dramatically, whining. “What! Holly, that’s impossible. Spin again.” 

She cackles, reminiscent of Queen Holly. “Nope, you have to! That’s the rules!”

And somehow, you both make it to green without knocking each other over. But you’re getting distracted– Steve’s hand has brushed your calf three times now and his shirt is loose, hanging off his chest in a way that gives you a clear view of his tummy. This might as well be sabotage. You tear your eyes away. You must focus. You didn’t care much for winning before, but something about Steve brings out your competitive side. 

“Right hand, green.” 

You bow your knee until it’s wedged uncomfortably into your ribcage so you can reach the green. Your thighs quickly begin to ache. You won’t last much longer in this position. Especially not when Steve arches over you like a human bridge, the zipper of his jeans tickling your back where your shirt has scrunched up. 

He shakes his hair out of the way so he can see you, albeit upside down. His smile stretches wide, radiating pure, unfiltered joy. He’s having the time of his life, and admittedly, so are you. 

Your elbow juts out, nearly giving under the weight of his gaze alone. But you snap it back in place and practically beg Holly, “Spin.” 

“Left foot blue!”

You and Steve lunge for the same blue circle. His sock slides against the tarp, leg extending much farther than he’s prepared for. His arm buckles, chest slamming down against your back. Your elbows give out immediately under the force of his weight, jaw slamming into the floor. 

“Shit, sorry! You okay?” 

A burst of laughter tumbles out of your mouth before you can answer. But maybe it’s an answer in itself. Your chin stings but you're fine. Better than fine, even. 

As soon as Steve scrambles off of you, you flip onto your back. His eyes trickle down you in assessment, eyebrows knitting together, mouth twitching like it can’t decide whether to frown or smile. 

“I’m okay,” you manage, smiley and breathless. 

“Did you hit your face?”

“Just my chin.” 

He reaches for your face with hesitant fingers. “Sorry.”

You shake your head, bolstering his wrist as he cups your chin. “I definitely won.” 

And just like that, all his worry washes away. He pries your hand from his wrist, wrenching you up to sit. “Technically, you hit the floor first.” 

You glance over to Holly for her professional referee’s opinion but find she’s no longer there. “Where’s–”

“I found it!” she yells from the upstairs. What exactly she found, you’ve no idea. But she comes stomping down the stairs not a minute later with a little box in her hands. Bandaids, you realize, as she dumps the contents on the twister mat beside you. “They’re Hello Kitty,” she says, stripping the paper backing off of one. 

You let her little fingers stamp it to the curve of your chin. It’s not bleeding, nor does it really hurt that bad, but the gesture is sweet enough to melt your heart. “Thank you, Holly. You’re so gentle. You should be a candy striper.” 

“I don’t think I’m old enough.”

“When you’re older then.”

Steve decides Twister is far too dangerous to keep playing, but Holly demands a game of Mouse Trap so it works out. Steve wins, despite you and Holly’s strategic alliance halfway through. And by then, she’s asked about dinner twice so you shelve the rest of the games and head up to the kitchen to decide together. 

Holly hums into the freezer, “Chicken nuggets… pizza rolls– oh! Eggos, can we have Eggos?” 

Steve bites the inside of his cheek, peering over her, “Why don’t we cook something? We could have a fancy dinner. Like a dinner party.”

“Can we dress up?”

“Sure,” he shrugs, flipping a pack of ground beef over. 

“Pasta?” you call from the pantry.

“Ooh, yeah. Let’s do that.”

Holly sprints upstairs for a costume, much more interested in the party than the dinner. You pull a box of noodles and an unopened jar of sauce from the shelf while Steve grabs a pot from the cabinet and sticks it under the faucet. 

“Careful. Stove’s on,” you announce, flicking the dial on high. 

Steve backs up from the sink slowly, water sloshing over the side of the pot when he bumps the table. 

“Steve,” you chuckle, pulling a dish towel from the oven handle, “It doesn’t need to be that full.” 

“No?” 

“No, dump like, half of that out.” 

He nods, pouring some out and depositing the rest over the stove. “I’m gonna be honest, I’ve never made pasta before.”

“Yeah, I could’ve guessed,” you quip, elbowing his side with the box of noodles in hand. “Pour these in?”

He takes the box and gives it a good shake. “How much?” 

“Maybe half? Little more?” 

He tips it over the water, snapping it back up when much more than half slides out. “Oops.” 

“It’s okay.” You chuck a few stray pieces from the counter into the pot. “Everyone’s getting seconds tonight. What do you like in your pasta?” 

“Sauce?” 

The laugh fizzles out in your throat as you realize he’s not making a joke. “Besides sauce. Cheese? Meat? Spices?” 

“Oh, uhh, I’m not sure.” Steve scratches the back of his neck, hand retracting to fidget with the hem of his shirt. He’s antsy, clearly nervous. Maybe embarrassed of his cooking knowledge, or rather, lack of it. Or perhaps afraid the pasta will end up something like the first set of grilled cheeses. 

“We’ll keep it simple then. Holly probably won’t like it too fancy anyway.” 

Steve nervously watches the water bubble, foam climbing up the sides. “Do you like garlic bread? Saw some in the freezer.” 

You fish the box out and line a pan with three pieces. And with bread in the oven and the pasta starting to boil, you hop on the counter to wait.  

“How long does it take?” Steve asks.

“Not long.” 

You open the drawer beside your legs and find a big wooden spoon. Lucky guess. “Here. Stir.” 

His eyes follow the ladle, stirring with steady hands. It’s a peaceful quiet, his focus unusually soft. Not the urgent, fate of his life kind of determination you’re used to seeing. 

When it’s ready, you pinch the spoon’s neck, fingertips sweeping his for the half a second before he lets go. “Now we strain the water. Then we can add the sauce.” 

You find a strainer and plant it in the sink while Steve carries the pot over and pours. He sets it back on the stove, per your orders, and offers a hand when you struggle with the sauce lid. 

He pins the jar against his chest, knuckles straining white in several attempts to twist the cap. But it pops off after a good shake, spraying sauce across your cheek, and spinning to the floor like a frisbee. 

Steve freezes, gawking at your face with a stupid smile. 

“Steve!” You scoop up a dish towel and smack his arm. 

He throws his hands up and turns a shoulder to you. “I didn’t mean to,” he snickers. 

“Don’t laugh! I’ll pour that whole jar over your head.” 

He doesn’t buy your threat one bit, still laughing as he sets the jar down and steals the towel from your hands. “I’ll get it. Sit still.” 

You summon the most menacing glare you can manage while suppressing a smile. He presses the towel to your cheek, thumb gliding across your skin as he wipes the sauce in one languid motion. His eyes flick down to your lips and you’re positive you aren’t imagining it. 

But you’re sweating and your stomach is churning and– “The pasta!” You ram into Steve’s shoulder trying to get by, rushing to turn the stove temperature down. 

Steve whisks up behind you to see the food. “Is it burnt?” 

“No, no. It should be fine.” You scrape the ladle under the bottom layer of noodles. “Pass me the sauce?”

You avoid his eyes as you take it. Was he going to kiss you? Maybe just thinking about it? Or perhaps there was just sauce near your mouth and you’re spiraling over absolutely nothing. 

You toss the food in sauce and divide it into three plates silently. 

“Holly! Food’s ready,” Steve shouts as he fixes the table with napkins and silverware. 

She clambers down the steps in a tutu and a cardigan that you’re pretty sure is Nancy’s. Her smile drops. “Where are your clothes?” 

Steve looks down at his sweats. “Holly, I think we’ll just–”

“Please, Stevie. It’s a dinner party, remember?” 

His eyes dart to you, though you still can’t bring yourself to look at him. “One sec.”

He swings back into the kitchen wearing a tweed suit jacket, a silky, black one draped over his arm. His is a few sizes too big, shoulder pads drooping down his biceps, and the sleeves swallowing his hands. He pushes the fabric up his elbows to hand you the other jacket. “For you.” 

“Thanks,” you deadpan. It comes off less sarcastic than you aim for. 

Holly and Steve adopt similar grins as you slip the jacket on. “You look dashing,” she compliments. 

“Very,” Steve agrees, taking a seat beside you. 

You spend the rest of dinner internally debating whether he’s flirting or just indulging in Holly’s playful antics. The uncertainty makes your stomach flip, and suddenly you aren’t so hungry anymore. 

After the dinner party concludes, it’s Holly’s suggestion to go for a walk. She wheels her bike out of the garage, fitted with a set of training wheels and a handlebar bursting with tinsel. A yawn rolls off her tongue as she launches down the driveway. It raises your hopes for a smoother bedtime tonight. 

Even as the horizon melts into the Earth, the summer heat clings like a heavy hand. Trees project long shadows along the road, eating what’s left of the sunlight. Bugs buzz and birds chirp, but a sleepy stillness is ubiquitous. 

“What?” you ask suddenly, whipping your head to face Steve. He’s drenched in gold, pale wisps of hair riding the breeze as he strolls. 

“I didn’t say anything.” 

“You’re staring at me. I feel it.” 

“I wasn’t,” he assures. 

You blink at him. You can’t decide whether to be annoyed at such an obvious lie or embarrassed by the truth. 

He jogs ahead before you’ve come up with something to say. Halfway to Holly, he shouts, “Come on, slowpoke!” 

It only takes one loop around the block for the heat to catch up. Holly complains incessantly about her helmet strap being too tight even after Steve fixes it and you’re itchy from sweat and mosquito bites. Steve’s, well, he might be the only content one. Happy even, guiding you home with a subtle bend to his lips and a soft glow tinting his cheeks. 

Holly whines about having to take a bath, and while you might negotiate it another night, you can see the damp line down her back. But like you suspect, all grievances are forgotten the second she gets in. She likes playing in the bath, even if she forgets it. It’s where she keeps her mermaid Barbie and her collection of rubber ducks, coincidentally all named Bob. 

And while bath time might tend to feel like more of a chore as a babysitter, tonight is different. It’s your last night at the Wheelers, and while that’s not new information, it is startlingly sad. You aren’t irritated when she splashes water in your eye or when she leaves a trail of it down the hall for you to clean. You can’t be, not when you know you’ll miss it. 

Steve helps you tuck Holly into Nancy’s bed. After pinky swearing that you’ll both return at your own bedtime, she drifts off easily. You’re thankful, of course, but a piece of you secretly hoped to be needed longer.  

“Must’ve been tired,” Steve whispers, pushing slowly off the bed. “You okay?” 

You nod, tearing your eyes from Holly to meet Steve’s. “Kinda sad.” You shrug, murmuring, “Stupid.” 

“It’s not.” He cups your shoulder and runs a warm hand up and down your arm. “Come on.” 

You take his hand and let him lead you across the hall and down the stairs. He pulls you onto the couch so you land pressed into the same cushion he’s on. “Y’know, babysitting Holly’s a breeze compared to the usual shitheads. We don’t have to worry about her taking my car keys or fighting interdimensional monsters or summoning a gate to hell,” he says. 

A soft laugh parts your lips. “Think Holly will put in a good word for us with her parents?” 

“You kidding? She loves us. Especially me,” he jokes. “Hate to break it to you but I’m definitely her favorite.” 

“No, you are not. Shut up.” 

He catches your fist mid-punch, cradling your hand like it’s made of wet sand. His thumb crosses each divot between your fingers, stroking up and down your knuckle slowly. “I’m sure they’ll ask us to babysit her again at some point.”

You hum in agreement. 

“Besides, we could expand our horizons. There’s like a million other children in Hawkins that need babysitting.” 

Your smile spills into your cheeks. “We?” 

“Yeah, I think we make a pretty damn good team. Don’t you?” 

“I do, but… we don’t have to limit our interactions to just babysitting, you know?” 

“What are you thinking? Dinner and a movie? Next weekend?” His eyes flick from your fingers to your face– to each eye, sweeping down the center of your nose, stopping right at your lips. 

You turn away in an attempt to soothe your heart as it pounds up to your ears. “Smooth, Harrington.” 

He reels you back in gently by the arm, confidence shining through his smile.“What? Did I read this wrong?” He knows he didn’t, he’s teasing you. 

“No,” you mumble, “You didn’t.” 

He leans in to whisper, “Can I kiss you then?” 

You nod, pushing into the soft press of his lips with your own. He’s not hesitant, nor is he harsh. Steve knows how to kiss, that much is clear. He trades your hand for your cheek, gently tilting your face to the side as he pulls away. 

Your eyes flutter open to a doting gaze. One that travels down the lines and slopes of your neck like they’re made of candy. Steve plants a second kiss on your lips, though fleeting in comparison to the first. But he plants several more to make up for it, working his way in a Z down your cheek, across your jaw, and back down your neck. They’re quick, ticklish little pecks of affection. A sweetness if you ever knew it. 

“Steve,” you admonish, though giggles betray your tone. The hands that frame his face glide gently down to his throat, your thumbs meeting at his Adam's apple. “We’re babysitting.” 

“I know,” he says, kissing your lips for a third time. “Just had to get a few extra in there. For all the times I thought about kissing you this weekend.” 

“Don’t say that.”

“Why?” He laughs, bubbly like you’ve surprised him. “It’s true. I thought about it all weekend.” 

You don’t know why you ask– why you even thought of it at a time like this– but you question him, “What about Nance?” 

“What about her?” 

“You don’t…” you trail off, afraid to even speak the possibility into existence. 

“We’re done. We have been. For a lot longer than I was willing to admit,” he admits honestly. 

“Yeah, but do you–”

“I don’t. Still have feelings for her. Not like that, anyway.” 

You meet his eyes, feeling a strange blend of emotions you can’t quite name.

“If you don’t believe me, you’ll just have to let me prove it to you,” he holds your gaze, warm with a sincerity that makes it hard to doubt him. 

“I believe you.” 

You let Steve kiss you several more times on that couch. He’s patient, deliberate, and more kind than you ever imagined he’d be. It’s hard to understand why Nancy would ever let someone like that go. 

ᯓ���

On Monday morning, you blink awake first, the comforting weight of a hand that’s not yours across your hip and another, much lighter one, at your belly. You turn over slowly, finding Steve and Holly wrapped around each other like ivy on trellis. You don’t imagine many people look this pretty asleep. The comb of long lashes kissing the soft flush in his cheeks. The golden lather of sunrise in each wild swoop of hair. The way his lips part for a sigh cuter than you knew one could be. 

He mumbles something unintelligible, sleep talk perhaps. 

You whisper back anyway, “What?” 

Steve sighs, smearing his cheek against the pillow. “Being a creeper.” 

“Me?” 

“Mhmm.” One eye slowly unbinds itself from sleep. Steve adores the tight-lipped smile on your face, broad with an infatuation he forgot could be aimed at him. His hand twitches at your side. 

“You just look so pretty when you sleep,” you admit. Is it too soon to say such things? 

His eye closes as he smiles, nosing into Holly’s hair, selfishly keeping it to himself. You reach across her body to find it, swiping a loving finger across his lips when you do. 

You stay in bed for as long as Holly will allow– which is not very long after she wakes up– but you don’t mind. You watch fondly as Steve helps her brush her teeth and as she helps Steve toast and butter the Eggos. Like Steve, Holly’s a good kid. They’re both helpers at heart. 

And you’re sure to remind Mrs. Wheeler of that when she rings the house to let you know they’re almost home. Holly’s excitement quickly dwindles into sadness the moment she realizes you won’t be staying. But she uses it to bargain one final game of hide and seek before you go. 

“Come on.” Steve drags you by the wrist, bustling upstairs to the bathroom. He throws the shower curtain aside and jumps in, offering his hand to help you after. You sit scrunched together, knee to knee on the porcelain floor, giggling like children. 

“Shhh,” you squeeze his kneecap. “You’re gonna get us found.” 

He jostles your shoulder, mouth agape. “You’re the one who’s laughing!” 

“No,” you insist, though the light in your eyes suggests otherwise. Curiosity sparks and the irrepressible urge to act on it wins. You lean in for a kiss, confirming that’s all it takes to shut Steve up. 

He tastes like maple syrup, loving with his lips as much as his hands. He pulls back for breath and returns for another peck, pressing into the corner of your mouth where your smile keeps drawing higher and higher. 

“Hard to kiss you when you're smiling.” 

“Can’t help it,” you defend. “Never been so happy.” 

He softens like warm icing, a sweet and gooey mess in your arms. But the shake of the front door closing stiffens him. 

“Mommy!” you hear quickly after. 

Steve scrambles up and over the lip of the tub, tugging you out with him. You follow him downstairs where Mrs. Wheeler swings Holly in her arms like she’s much smaller than she really is. Mr. Wheeler steers a suitcase silently through the entryway. 

“Did you have so much fun?” she asks Holly, peppering kisses across her temple. “Ohh, I missed you!” 

Holly revels in the affection overload, bending backward to giggle at you and Steve. 

Mrs. Wheeler grins. “How was she?” 

“Great, as always,” Steve assures. His cheeks are flushed, his hair mussed— though you could chalk that up to bedhead, not the aftermath of your short-lived makeout session.

You nod, adding, “We went swimming and to the park and–”

“IHOP!” Holly yells. “I got pancakes with chocolate chips and extra sprinkles!” 

“Did you? Sounds like you had a lot of fun.” Mrs. Wheeler plants Holly on her feet. “Can you give hugs? Say thank you for being such good babysitters?” 

Holly launches herself at Steve. He sends you a smirk over her shoulder, rocking her side to side in his embrace. You can just hear him say, I told you so. 

But she offers the same enthusiasm and more for you, dragging you onto the floor for a proper goodbye hug. “I don’t want you to go,” she pouts in your ear. 

“We’ll come back. We can have playdates?” 

“Can’t you just live in Nancy’s room? She’s never here anyway.” 

You can’t help but laugh. “I wish I could,” you admit honestly. 

She reluctantly loosens her grip on your shirt when you peel away. 

Mrs. Wheeler sees you and Steve off with a warm smile. Holly darts through her mother’s legs for one final hug on the porch. You wave goodbye, the moment slipping into something bittersweet before Steve bumps his shoulder into yours, a playful grin softening the farewell.

You dawdle up to your car, wringing your hands together when you reach the door. “So.”

“So,” he parrots. 

“This weekend, right?” 

His smirk blooms into a full smile. “Friday? Pick you up at seven?” 

“Okay,” you nod. 

“Okay,” he chuckles, clipping a hand around your jaw and leaning in. 

You turn away so the kiss skips across the softest stretch of your cheek. “Steve.” 

His eyes never leave your face as he assures you, “They’re not looking.” 

“Don’t be so sure.” 

Holly waves at you through the living room window, a smile as wide as her face. Steve’s hand falls down to his side and he takes a platonic step back. You both return her goodbye, but Holly stays, her little hand pressed to the glass. 

“Think she’ll tell?” Steve asks, not an ounce of worry in his tone. 

You shrug, tugging him back in by the waist for a proper kiss. “I guess it wouldn't be the end of the world.” 

[ddejavvu]

For Tyler Owens x shy!reader maybe it’s their first time sharing a bed at a motel after tornado chasing? Nothing sexual just like sharing a bed and being shy about it?

Heartbeat - Tyler Owens x Reader

please send me tyler owens requests!

You've always been envious of the universal man-ability to fall asleep within seconds of their heads hitting the pillow, but now you're feeling the hurt worse than ever. It's well past one in the morning, Tyler's been asleep for over an hour, and you've been staring at a suspicious patch of something that's probably mold in the corner of the motel room ceiling.

It's not the nicest place, but you're stranded in the middle of a backroad stretch of Arkansas, so any place with a roof, even a moldy one, is a nice place.

Tyler's phone rings, technically set to vibrate but humming nevertheless as it lights up the room. You're expecting him to sleep right through it but he stirs, extending a lazy hand to press at the power button until it stops buzzing. Then, with a hefty grunt, he heaves over onto his side, and comes sleepy-face to sleepy-face with you.

"Oh," He starts, eyes widening from where they'd been barely open, "You're-" He clears his throat, his voice raspy, "You're awake, darlin'?"

His strong arm wraps around your shoulders and pulls you close, drawing you into warmth you hadn't accumulated yourself despite laying for the same length of time. You huddle into it even though there's a fire burning your cheeks and scalding your mind.

When you don't answer, Tyler rambles sleepily, "Sorry, my- m'phone was goin' off. Some scam caller, 'm pretty sure. Were you-" A yawn cuts through his words, "Awake before that?"

"Mhm," You nod, thankful for the sanctuary of his clothed chest despite it being the reason you're so flustered.

"You ever get to sleep, sweet thing?"

That's the million-dollar question. Million-dollar question meaning the one you'd pay a million dollars to avoid answering.

Your answering hum is non-committal at best, but Tyler seems to know there's a reason you hadn't flat-out said yes.

"My poor baby," He frowns, bleary but still concerned, as he pulls back to free your face from his chest. You're still encircled by his impressive arm, though, and you can't meet his eye as he stares down at you.

"What's'a matter, honey-bun?"

"Hm?"

"Why can't you sleep?" He asks, then guesses, "Is it the smell'a mildew that's comin' off of everything?"

His bluntness startles you into laughter, but you know he expects an answer from the way he maintains your gaze, sympathy shining in his sweet, sleepy eyes.

Now starts the squirming, "Um, I dunno. I guess the bed's just not too comfy," You prod at the cheaply-made mattress beneath you, "And- I think I'm just not used to sleeping with other people, y'know, and then the bathroom fan makes a weird noise even when it's off-"

Your attempts to bury the lede had failed. Tyler's brows furrow and he leans in, your nose-to-nose positioning only making your bashfulness worse as he murmurs, "Is this the first time you're sharin' a bed with anyone, sweet thing?"

Even the little details, the soft gust of his breath on your face as he watches you makes your insides crawl with mortification. You're so close, and he's so there, and he's finally figured out that you've never done anything like this before, and- god, how do you play this off?

"No, I have, I- I've had, y'know, sleepovers with friends and, um, I had a cat growing up, that kind of thing. Just not-" You break away when your eyes flicker over his, and you hold eye contact for as long as possible, "Not like this. Nothing like this."

Tyler doesn't laugh, even though he probably really wants to. Even though you've probably made a complete fool out of yourself, and he's going to snicker at your predicament with his friends later, he doesn't laugh, and instead he- he presses a soft, barely-there kiss to your forehead.

"I think I'm a little more involved than a cat," He hums gently, "Are you okay with me touchin' you like this, angel baby?"

His arm is around your waist, and his face is up against your own- that's it. He's not getting handsy, not venturing lower than necessary or trying to shove his large hands beneath your clothes.

"You're not touching me." You attempt to answer, "Or- well, you are, but-"

"But it doesn't matter what I mean by it if you don't like it. So is it okay?"

You consider the feeling of his strong arm tucking you tight into his chest, as well as the intoxicating feeling of each breath he takes being fanned over your face, a privilege you hope you're the only one to have experienced.

"Yeah," You melt into his arms, even squirming closer as he lets you lead, "This is okay. It's- I like it."

"Good." He murmurs, and you feel it more than hear it from the way you're nestled against his chest, "What normally helps you fall asleep? Cat breath?"

"Maybe," You laugh, recalling your tuna-scented companion, "But I don't know. Just- this is nice. Your breathing and," You pause, listening, "The beat of your heart."

Tyler's fingers freeze a beat before they curl against your scalp, raking gently and soothingly through your hair.

"Good." He repeats, and you swear this one sounds shakier, almost thicker than the last one, "That's it, sweet thing, relax. I'll make sure you get to sleep. And tomorrow I'll act like a gentleman, 'won't just collapse into bed and get to snorin'. before you've even brushed your teeth."

Your laugh is the last one you release for the night- the last sound altogether besides the soft breathing that evens in your chest, and it's all funneled into Tyler's chest like a prize he's won.

[yanderestarangel]

౨ৎ HEADCANONS COD || GHOST, KÖNIG, CAPTAIN PRICE — ROMANTIC SEX WITH THEM

TW: body worship, romantic sex, use of lingerie, ftm reader, v!sex, anal sex, blowjob, praise, daddykink, age gap, fluff, femboy reader, reader without top surgery.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ♡ GHOST ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ♡

"I love you more than I can express."

♡⁠┊He is usually a quick lover and likes to mark you to show everyone that you belong to him, something in the nature of leaving you completely covered in love bruises that makes you dizzy.

♡⁠┊But something made him want to take it slow from that lazy and cold morning. He needed to go to work again on another Bravo 141 mission - however, seeing you needy and rubbing yourself against him, asking him to stay a little longer was like a siren song that he couldn't deny the call. "Are you feeling neglected, my baby?" Ghost speaks in a hoarse voice, slightly lifting his balaclava to meet your lips as he lay down on your bed again.

♡⁠┊You rubbed yourself against his muscular body, a silent plea for more than just making out – even though you knew you were going to be late, your husband couldn't deny you anything, so it wasn't a surprise to you when his fingers found their way to your pussy and began a soft dance on your clit.

♡⁠┊It didn't take long for Ghost to quickly take off his clothes and stand above you, his left hand holding your hip and keeping you where he wanted you to be, gently slamming his hips into yours as the wet sound of flesh against flesh filled his ears and made him dizzy. Unlike the other times, that morning he just wanted to feel you completely. He wasn't fucking you; he was making love to you and worshiping every inch of your body.

♡⁠┊"You look beautiful like this... You really complete me, don't you?" Ghost spoke softer than ever, his voice seemed like a balm that penetrated your soul – his free hand caressed your cheek and he stopped his movements long enough for you to feel his cock warm up a little more inside you. He momentarily took off his skull balaclava, so you could look directly into his face; his blue eyes seemed to want to tell you feelings that he didn't have the courage or way to say in mere words – one thing was certain, he loved you.

♡⁠┊He leaned in enough to press his lips against yours, Simon rarely kissed when you had sex, yet there he was – moaning into your tongue softly as his hips met yours again. Several "I love you"s came out of his mouth messily. His body trembled and the world disappeared completely as he explored every inch of your body as if looking for some detail he had never seen before.

♡⁠┊After a few more thrusts he finally cums inside your pussy, making you cling to him as you felt your stomach swell slightly from the amount of semen in your gut. He stood there, holding the back of your neck as he caught his breath.

♡⁠┊Ghost looked at his watch and sighed, realizing how late he was for work, but seeing you there, all beautiful and messy... He decided to stay, just for that day. "I'm not going to leave now, just rest my boy, when you wake up I'll be here." He said meditating in his mind that it was a great way to start his day, and maybe he should adore you a little more every day.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ♡ KÖNIG ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ♡

"You make me nervous... And I like it."

♡⁠┊He liked the softness of your skin on his hands, he liked the way you smiled beautifully and blushed when you were too embarrassed, he liked the way his bracelet matched yours and how beautiful it looked when you two held hands. König loved you more than he ever thought he could ever feel in his life.

♡⁠┊He was terrible with words, but every action he did was the purest to demonstrate how much he was in love with you; in fact, in love was an understatement, König was madly in love with you - in a healthy and good way. He was a military soldier trained for years, he could kill enemies and targets easily without any regret - and yet, you made him so nervous and out of himself, as if butterflies were growing in his stomach.

♡⁠┊And this also happened when you had sex. His muscular, imposing and scarred body was beneath you - his eyes had a solemn expectation of seeing you take control and enjoy his body. His hands held the soft flesh of your waist and he whimpered softly feeling your body connected deeply to his.

♡⁠┊You didn't know where the territory of intimacy between each other began or ended, at that moment, you and the Austrian were only one. "I... Love you so much, you're mine, aren't you, liebling?" König moaned muffled by his sniper mask, his muscles rippled slightly as he fixed his focus on your body and how your clitoris was swollen - because of the hours of the two of you exploring each other's bodies.

♡⁠┊You could see little tears welling up in his eyes – he was short-circuiting from so many stimuli together. The love in his chest that burned his insides all the way to his stomach with that cold, good feeling of being madly in love with someone, you made him lose control of his senses.

♡⁠┊He wanted to tell you how much he loved you, how much he admired you for being a strong man and that he was very lucky to have you in his life... However, the only sounds that could come out of his mouth at that moment were honeyed and hoarse moans, accompanying his eyes rolling back in his skull and him squeezing your smaller body tightly, to the point of leaving marks that would remain for another day.

♡⁠┊He whimpered louder, incoherent words, but you knew they were all just the purest love and affection for you. König held you tightly, making you sit on his entire length at once – the wet and pleasurable sensation made you milk his cock with your inner walls pulsing and wanting more – at the same time your partner quickly withdrew from your wet hole and came all over your belly, marking you as his again.

♡⁠┊"I love you..." Was all he could formulate as he buried his face in your soft flesh and waited for his heart and breathing to return to normal as his body went slightly numb. "You make me feel things I never thought possible... You are the man of my life and if there is a paradise I am definitely already in it, with you." He speaks with a certainty never seen before by you, his words came straight from his soul, making you feel more desired and loved.

♡⁠┊He slowly began to fall asleep, still holding you, as if he was afraid that you would disappear from his arms - one of his hands on the side of your ass while his cock softened against your stomach, the sensation still burned both of your skins, but you both just wanted to enjoy that moment without any extra feeling, just the purest and most peaceful love. In years, König could smile genuinely behind his mask, knowing that he had found something more to fight for.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ♡ CAPTAIN PRICE ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ♡

"I want more than your pretty face..."

♡⁠┊It was just supposed to be sex, he paid to have a young man like you to satisfy him and have a beautiful accessory by his side - but soon the captain found himself attached to you in a way he never imagined. You were a funny, smiling and bright man, just like a sunshine.

♡⁠┊The first few dates between the two of you were really comfortable – he was a gentleman with you and made you feel like the most desirable man in the world; and then he completely broke you in bed until you didn't even know how many times he came. Price was the type of sugar daddy who tries not to get attached to your presence but it doesn't take long for him to find himself thinking about your image after a few sexual encounters.

♡⁠┊It was never his intention to really fall in love with you... but the way you touched him, the way you smiled at him, the way that silk lingerie fell on your body and adorned every curve of your skin, the way you moaned and whimpered when his cock entered your pussy... It was too much for him to bear and see as just an exchange of monetary favors.

♡⁠┊You caused reactions he didn’t even think were possible. You were everything he dreamed of in a partner. Even without obligation, you kept him company and never asked for anything in return, listening to his stories about past missions and the challenges he and his team faced. Price always finished his tales with a soft sigh and a vulnerable look, realizing how much he had opened up to you. "Ignore that, my lad, I just ramble too much like every old man," he would say, trying to hide the blush on his face. It was so obvious how much he considered you more than just a mere companion.

♡⁠┊He wanted to be with you all the time. It became more than just a sugar daddy and sugar baby relationship—he really wanted something serious with you. However, his insecurities always prevented him from saying anything more; he would freeze every time he tried to invite you to something more romantic than a sexual encounter in a luxurious hotel room.

♡⁠┊That night was lighter and different from most of the ones you were used to having. Price wanted to express how much he wanted you more than a pretty face sucking his cock and walking around with luxury items bought by him. The white lace lingerie adorned your body and barely covered your shiny pussy – The captain was between your legs, his voluminous beard tickling your sensitive flesh with each protruding lick he gave with his tongue on your lips, making you press his head between your soft thighs and making you even more drunk with pleasure.

♡⁠┊The rose petals he had scattered on the bed earlier stuck to your sweaty skin – your breasts swayed with each movement of the older man’s tongue as you felt like a god for being so adored by someone. Your wetness spread across his face and skin, the scent of sweet musk making him dizzy and hard as fuck.

♡┊He rubbed his hips on the soft mattress, looking for some friction to warm his erection – you could hear small moans and husky words coming from his lips as his blue eyes devoured you inch by inch. "Fuck, you make me so hard, you don't know what you do to me." Price groaned hoarsely as he gently slapped your thigh to make you moan even louder for him.

♡⁠┊After making you cum again on his tongue – Price would get on his knees between your legs and rub his hard, throbbing cock against your entrance, wet with your juices and his saliva. The thick, warm tip of his shaft applied a delicious, slow pressure to your swollen clit, making you beg for him to fill you up soon.

♡⁠┊As soon as he did, the older man leaned in enough to kiss you as his hips worked at a slow, sensual pace – his muscular thighs smacked against yours while his balls slapped against your ass cheeks, making you hear a wet noise in the process. You saw Price's smile widen even more when he saw you blushing at him being so loving with you, treating you like the god you were.

♡⁠┊"I can't hold it anymore... fuck boy, you make my heart race." He said between moans, pressing his forehead against yours as he sped up his movements and made your curves jump out of the thin fabric of the lingerie you were wearing. He grabbed one of your breasts as he squeezed it tightly and came inside you without warning, it was a new but strangely hot sensation.

♡⁠┊He sighed and stared into your eyes, his breathing even meeting yours rhythmically. "You make me feel things... I know this should be a business relationship, but I can't let a beautiful boy like you escape me." The older man said with a soft smile and kissed you on the forehead. "Let's have dinner at a restaurant... Just you and me, no sex, no sugar daddy or sugar baby, just you and me, my prince, no pressure, obviously... I just want to show you that I fell in love with you much more, much more than your pretty face and perfect body." He said, looking at you with all the passion he could show – he didn't know where this relationship could go, but he wanted to try to love again and he wanted to love you, only you.

𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒅 ©𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 2024. 𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆

[majikkulu]

━━ ❝MASTERLIST❞

in this pick-a-card reading, we’ll dive into what people really have to say about you—whether it’s glowing praise or secret whispers. what’s the tea they spill when you’re not around? remember, this is a general reading — take what resonates and leave the rest.

if  you  have  any  ideas  for  tarot  pacs  you'd  like  me  to  do,  feel  free  to  drop  them  in  my  ask  box,  and  i'll  make  it  happen!

choose the picture or pile that calls to you and let the magic unfold!

PILE ONE i  can  tell  this  pile  feels  personal—what  people  say  about  you  hits  close  to  home.  they  think  you're  indecisive,  struggling  to  take  action  or  follow  through  on  what  you  said  you'd  do.  it  frustrates  them;  they  feel  like  you  can’t  commit  to  certain  things.  some  even  say  you’re  guarded,  mysterious,  hard  to  read.  and  that  only  makes  them  more  curious—what’s  really  beneath  all  of  that?  there’s  also  this  idea  that  you  avoid  confrontation,  preferring  to  stay  neutral.  while  some  see  that  as  wise,  others  view  it  as  passivity,  like  you’re  afraid  to  stand  your  ground.  interestingly,  one  specific  person  seems  to  stand  out  here.  they’re  obsessively  focused  on  you,  constantly  talking  about  you.  they  might  discuss  things  you’ve  been  through—maybe  toxic  relationships,  bad  habits,  or  difficult  patterns.  but  it’s  not  all  criticism.  a  lot  of  people  are  fascinated  by  you.  they  find  you  magnetic,  charming,  even  alluring.  some  are  jealous,  though.  they  notice  your  sensitivity—maybe  they’ve  seen  you  cry  or  assume  you’re  the  type  to  cry  in  public.  they  might  even  think  you  look  younger  than  you  are,  which  makes  them  wonder  about  your  age.  there’s  also  talk  about  your  creativity.  whether  it’s  how  you  dress  or  how  you  express  yourself  artistically,  it  leaves  an  impression.  and  then  there’s  the  assumption  that  you’ve  “got  it  all.”  some  think  you’re  rich  or  incredibly  successful,  even  if  you  don’t  feel  that  way  yourself.  maybe  something  big  happened  recently—an  achievement,  a  win,  or  an  opportunity  that  others  wanted.  it’s  clear  they  see  your  potential,  and  that  potential  is  both  admired  and  envied.  people  question  if  it’s  luck  or  hard  work  that  gets  you  where  you  are.

PILE TWO people  talk  about  how  cautious  you  are,  how  you  take  your  time  with  everything,  and  how  you  question  every  little  detail.  to  them,  it  might  come  off  as  overly  slow  or  even  boring  because  you’re  not  impulsive.  they  see  you  as  someone  who  hesitates  or  spends  too  long  planning  before  acting,  and  some  might  say  you’re  no  fun  because  of  it.  they  notice  how  you  like  to  have  a  plan  for  everything,  but  they  don’t  realize  that  beneath  that  calm  surface  lies  an  inner  beast—a  strength  they  can’t  begin  to  comprehend.  you  handle  things  with  patience  and  emotional  control,  and  people  see  that.  they  talk  about  how  calm  you  remain,  even  in  serious  or  emotional  situations.  it’s  like  nothing  can  shake  you,  and  that  composure  either  impresses  or  frustrates  them.  some  gossip  that  your  strength  borders  on  stubbornness,  but  let’s  be  real—that  envy  stems  from  wishing  they  had  the  kind  of  self-control  you  do.  there’s  competition  swirling  around  you,  even  if  you  don’t  see  it.  people  notice  how  you  deal  with  disagreements  and  conflicts.  you’re  unbothered,  and  that  drives  them  crazy.  they  might  talk  about  how  you’re  not  afraid  to  speak  up,  even  if  it  causes  tension.  they  focus  on  how  you  defend  yourself,  how  you  never  back  down,  even  in  situations  where  others  think  you  should.  they  see  you  as  determined,  standing  firm  in  your  beliefs  and  decisions,  and  that  resilience  makes  some  people  misunderstand  or  even  resent  you.  it’s  funny,  though—they  think  you  provoke  them  with  how  you  respond  or  even  just  with  your  presence.  your  energy  bothers  them,  but  that’s  their  problem,  not  yours.  you  stand  your  ground,  and  that’s  what  really  sets  you  apart.

PILE THREE people  gossip  a  lot  about  your  quiet  nature  and  what’s  going  on  in  your  life  behind  the  scenes.  they’re  curious  about  what  you’re  up  to,  especially  since  you  keep  things  so  private.  it’s  like  your  silence  sparks  endless  speculation.  some  even  find  you  suspicious,  questioning  your  motives,  intentions,  or  honesty—accusing  you  of  being  manipulative  or  using  tricks.  there’s  talk  about  you  avoiding  confrontation  or  shying  away  from  taking  responsibility,  and  for  some,  this  feeds  into  the  narrative  of  you  being  a  liar.  there’s  a  sense  that  you’ve  distanced  yourself  from  people,  maybe  even  withdrawn  completely.  this  makes  others  wonder  what  you’re  searching  for—your  purpose  or  direction  in  life.  your  quietness,  while  intriguing,  can  make  you  hard  to  approach.  some  feel  like  they  can’t  fully  connect  with  you,  as  if  you’re  masking  your  true  self  or  staying  intentionally  detached.  on  the  other  side,  there  are  those  who  admire  you.  they  see  you  as  wise  and  insightful,  someone  who  remains  calm  and  composed  even  under  pressure.  your  guarded  nature  and  emotional  detachment  make  you  magnetic  in  a  way  that  draws  people  in,  even  if  they  don’t  fully  understand  you.  they  gossip  about  how  cautious  and  hesitant  you  are  to  take  bold  risks,  calling  you  predictable.  yet,  they  also  acknowledge  your  ability  to  handle  life’s  ups  and  downs  with  grace  and  poise.  whether  people  envy,  misunderstand,  or  admire  you,  it’s  clear  that  your  energy  leaves  a  lasting  impression.

[vampiefemme]

in which ellie shows you exactly who you belong to.

18+ minors dni!

You and Ellie aren’t together. 

You’re not a couple. You’d both agreed to keep things casual. You’re just roommates who mess around sometimes; simple as that. 

So why do you feel so guilty for going on a date with someone else?

You’re dressed and ready, adding the final touches to your makeup in the mirror, and you should be feeling excited - your date is a total dreamboat. Perfect on paper and so, so hot. But instead of that giddy, fluttery feeling in your stomach, all you feel is guilt. 

You and Ellie aren’t together, you keep reminding yourself. You repeat it like a mantra in your head. There’s nothing wrong with going on a date, right? Because you’re single… Right?

On your way out, you run into Ellie, because of course you do. She’s sprawled out on the couch, head propped on a pillow, playing her Switch with a determined look on her face. Your stomach clenches when you see her. She looks up when she hears you walk to the front door, her eyes following you as you slip into your shoes. 

“You look nice,” Ellie says from the couch. You look over and see that she’s paused her game; she’s sitting up and drinking in the sight of you, eyes lingering over your frame. You pretend not to notice. 

“Thank you, Ellie.” You grin and look down at your outfit, palms smoothing over the fabric of your skirt. You do look nice. 

“Where are you going?” 

Your cheeks go hot at the question, and your first instinct is to lie - to tell Ellie that you’re going to see a friend. Just catching up with someone from college over dinner. But it’d be stupid to lie - you’re single. You’re allowed to go out.

“I’m, um, going on a date.”

You don’t look at her when you say it - you know you’d feel guilty, even if the two of you are just friends with benefits. Or… Roommates with benefits?

“Oh,” Ellie says, as you busy yourself picking off nonexistent lint from your shirt. Anything to avoid her gaze. “Okay. Have fun, then.”

There’s no bitterness in her voice, which you had expected. You glance at her face, and she’s back to that determined expression, focused on her Switch again. 

You clear your throat. “Thanks. I’ll, um… See you later.” 

Naturally, you spend the entire date thinking about Ellie. Her eyes, green and dotted with flecks of brown. Her hair, which falls in her face just right. Her mouth, and the way it feels against the supple flesh of your throat, Ellie’s lips soft and wet as she trails kisses down your neck. 

And her hands - her strong hands. You can almost feel them on your hips, on your chest, between your legs. 

God, this date was a mistake.  

Still, you have the common decency to see it through. You pretend to be interested in your date’s job, their hobbies, their five year plan. They drone on for hours, only asking you a few pointed questions about yourself, and when the dinner’s finally over and they’ve signed the check, you’re itching to leave.

Not long after you’ve made it back home, you’re face-down on Ellie’s bed, moaning into the mattress as her tongue circles your clit. 

She’d asked you about your date between heated kisses, her lips flushed and swollen. You hadn’t given her many details aside from it was boring and I just wanted to come home and do this. That seemed to give Ellie some sort of complex, because now, as she pumps her fingers into your cunt with one hand and lands a stinging smack on your ass with the other, she pulls back from mouthing at your clit to rasp, “That’s it, moan for me.” 

And she’s always been talkative in bed, all slurred curses and dirty comments, but there’s something different this time. You arch your back deeper, giving her more access to pound her fingers into you, and she groans in approval. 

“Good fucking girl,” she breathes, using her free hand to dig her blunt nails into the flesh of your ass. She gives it another spank for good measure. “Wanna tell me whose pussy this is?”

There it is - something she’s never said before. You can feel yourself getting wetter, tightening around her fingers as your hips involuntarily push backwards against her palm. You forget to respond entirely, every thought in your head smooth and shapeless, disappearing as quickly as it came. But Ellie won’t let you off so easily. 

“Flip over,” she orders, the rasp in her voice sending a thrill up your spine. You obey wordlessly, and when you’re on your back, you see it: a possessive glint in her gaze, a sharp edge to her expression. You gush impossibly wetter, cunt clenching around nothing - the absence of Ellie’s fingers makes you want to sob. 

“Ellie,” you whisper, brows knitting together. Her gaze softens. “Please make me come.”

A smile tugs at her lips and she nods, her palm rubbing over your stomach in soothing circles. 

“I will, princess,” she assures you, “but I need you to tell me who you belong to. Think you might’ve forgotten.”

Guilt twists in your gut. “You, Ellie.” 

“What about me?”

There’s a challenge in the teasing lilt of her voice. You swallow. “I… Belong to you.”

“Mm, that’s right.” Ellie’s hands travel upward from your abdomen to your chest, closing around each of your tits. You suck in a shaky breath when her thumbs stroke over your pert nipples, making them draw even more taut. “These are mine?”

“Yours,” you gasp, chest rising and falling quickly. Ellie’s bangs fall in her eyes as she leans over to suck a nipple into her mouth, tongue swirling over the bud until you go cross-eyed, hips canting upward. She repeats the same torture with your other breast, leaving both of your nipples swollen and sensitive. 

“What about this?” Ellie asks when she pulls back, her hand moving to the heat between your legs. You whine, a desperate, pathetic little sound that makes Ellie want to eat you whole. 

“Yours, Ellie, it’s yours,” you say, voice betraying how needy you are. She dips a finger into your wetness, your folds silky with arousal, and you almost miss the way her eyes flicker back into her skull for a moment. She’s enjoying this just as much as you are. 

“This is mine?” She drags her fingers up to your clit, drawing torturously wide circles around it - close, but not close enough. You could start crying right there. You nod, frantic.

Ellie clicks her tongue, tuts in disapproval. “No, baby, I need to hear you say it. Whose pussy is this?”

And it’s not so hard to admit - Ellie’s had you under her spell long before you went on that stupid date tonight. You realize it now, cheeks warming at the obscene sounds of Ellie’s fingers playing in your cunt, unable to look her in the eye without squirming. 

“My pussy’s yours,” you pant, “s’all yours. Nobody fucks me like you, Els.” 

You’re pushing your hips towards her touch, your tits in your own hands now, pulling at your nipples like it’ll relieve the growing need in your belly. Ellie eyes you with half-lidded eyes, lust heavy in her gaze, and it’s like you can see the remnants of her resolve break. She sinks between your legs and finally, finally laps at your desperate cunt, drinking in the taste of you as you whine and writhe above her. 

When you come, it’s with Ellie’s name on your lips. And you know it’s true - you’re entirely hers.

[jenscx]

HIT ME UP — uchinaga aeri

aeri’s never had much luck with love. countless blind dates, dating apps, mutual friends, nothing came out of those. but wait, who is that girl in her best friend’s instagram and why is she so pretty?

tags fluff, no angst, non-idol au, open your eyes to see jiminjeong, mutual pining (for literally a sec), cursing, aeri pov centric

wordcount 6.0k

🎙️ author’s note: happy aeri day! lots of love to our favourite hot girl gigi 🤍 can’t express how much i love aeri and her contribution to aespa as a member >< i hope that everyone enjoys reading this fic and for aeri to enjoy her birthday!

uchinaga aeri, half-japanese and half-korean, age twenty three, has never dated anyone before in her life. well, not officially. she doesn’t really count the situationships or talking stages she’s had. aeri would say that the lack of love in her life would be due to her bougie choices in character. her taste is just a little more refined, detailed, specialised, whatever you want to call it. jimin calls it picky while yizhuo applauds her for knowing what she wants in a partner.

something that definitely attracted her would be a strong personality, a little bold and courageous but also sweet and caring. isn’t that a nice criteria to have? aeri doesn’t think she’s asking for much here. yet, her simple standards seem a reach too far compared to the personalities she’s met lately. even jimin can’t help but wince at the blind dates aeri has gone on.

because aeri loves everyone, as long as they’re pretty, she’s been on dates with many, regardless of gender. and well, she can’t really say that one outweighs the other. this one guy she met at the gym had told her she needed more tips on weightlifting and had gone into a rant about protein shakes.

needless to say, as much as she loves the gym, aeri could not really stand an hour long conversation about protein shakes of all things.

and that girl who seemed way more interested in the oat milk in aeri’s latte than her. that was a strange date. aeri scrunches her nose in distaste at the reminder. another date she’d been on, helpfully supplied by yizhuo, the girl was gorgeous and incredibly sweet. but the moment aeri had said she was a scorpio, her date started acting like aeri killed her dog. which, by the way, she never would. she loves dogs and even has two cute ones herself! and then her date had the nerve to storm out of the restaurant too. what a shitshow.

(“oh… maybe i shouldn’t be friends with her either,” yizhuo comments after aeri recites the incident to her.

“do you think she’ll burst into flames if you tell her you’re a scorpio as well?” jimin asks, so genuinely that aeri almost chokes to death while laughing.)

anyway, so what if aeri’s luck with dating is trash? her life has been fine for twenty three years and it’s not like having a partner will drastically change her for the good. she’s been enjoying this single life. she never has to update anyone about her whereabouts, she doesn’t have to reply to texts immediately, everything she buys is for herself. what a wonderful life. some call it miserable, others call it unhealthy. she calls it being free.

okay, maybe it is a little sad coming home to an empty apartment with no one to greet her. aeri does feel envious when her friends meet up and they talk about their own significant others. but that envy isn’t enough for her to throw herself down into that torturous rabbit hole of dating again. if only she had a friend that she could fall in love with or something. like a cute friends to lovers situation. or if she tripped and fell over the love of her life. the stars aligned, ‘we’re soulmates’ type.

not to mention that ever since moving back to korea from the states, her parents have been pressuring her to find someone. while korea and japan aren’t aeons apart, aeri doesn’t really have the comfort of family. her friends do offer some semblance of home but it just doesn’t feel the same. after confiding in her mother, aeri was told that a partner would fill in the gap her parents left.

she’s getting a little delirious and the idea of falling in love has become more of a chore than blessing. aeri slumps against her bedframe, scowling at her phone blowing up. if she were still on a dating app, the notifications could be due to matches or dates that were too clingy. but she’s sworn off dating apps for good and that chain of messages could only be sent by yu jimin.

jimin [6.19pm]:

omg guys

i think i just met the loml

holy shit shes so cute

im in love

can sm1 find her @

yizhuo [6.20pm]:

who

jimin [6.20pm]:

uhmmmmm

minjeong?

her cup says that

yizhuo [6.20pm]:

are you serious 😐

jimin [6.21pm]:

STOP SHES LOOKING AT ME

AAAAAAA

aeri [6.22pm]:

girl shut up

she throws her phone aside as jimin’s cries for help go unanswered. jimin breaking down would be cute if aeri wasn’t going through an existential crisis right now. the thought of never finding someone truly for her looms over her head. her whole ‘i don’t need a man’ (or woman) persona crumbles instantly the moment she reaches her bedroom. the facade falls immediately, only leaving behind a lonely girl who just has bad luck.

jimin continues to flounder around and seemingly the pings stop (aeri lets out a sigh of relief), before they come back in full force in the form of a video call.

aeri reaches for her phone and waits a few seconds just to torture jimin before picking up.

“uhm, hello?”

“oh my goodness— what is wrong with you two? have you not read my messages!” jimin whispers harshly. a grainy, pixelated version of her friend appears on screen. the only recognisable feature of jimin is her pale, glowy skin shining in the moonlight as her dark hair wisps around behind her.

staring blankly, aeri repeats, “hello?”

“hi, yes! okay, so i just met this girl and—”

yizhuo’s voice cuts through, “does it really count as meeting her though?”

aeri sees jimin rolling her eyes before she reluctantly pouts, “no, but that’s not the point. the point is that she’s really cute, like marriage-worthy cute. and i need her instagram now.”

“you think we can find it?” yizhuo asks, unamused.

“well, she was wearing our old high school jacket and you guys know a lot of people!” jimin’s logic, sometimes flawed, did make sense to aeri this time. she and yizhuo were like social butterflies back in high school and jimin’s assumption would be right.

“what was her name again?” aeri asks, just to get jimin to shut up. for a girl that was so elegant and graceful, jimin really was a loser sometimes. it was difficult at first to adjust from the girl crush jimin to the loser jimin but after being friends for so long, aeri has learnt to accept both sides of her personality.

jimin perks up, her forehead gleaming on the screen, “minjeong! isn’t it such a cute name? cute name for a cute girl… heh. she looked like a puppy too, like a tint maltese. she has short blonde hair too. almost shoulder length?”

aeri isn’t too sure on how the description of her looking like a maltese helps in their investigation but whatever floats jimin’s boat, she guesses. she watches as yizhuo disappears from the frame and jimin walks home, humming to herself.

a few minutes later, while she and jimin are discussing new hair colours, yizhuo pops back into frame, exclaiming with glee, “i found her!”

and aeri can only watch as jimin trips over air, almost in slow motion, and face plants into the ground.

“c’mon, ningie! please!” aeri widens her eyes while jimin almost gets on her knees, her hands pleading. who knew jimin would get so desperate for some girl’s instagram? definitely not aeri.

yizhuo only huffs, “i want something in return.”

“anything! really!” the older girl is so close to downright begging that aeri considers stepping in for a second before yizhuo inevitably reads out loud, “mj underscore zero one zero one and i want free lunch for the rest of the week. aeri unnie included.”

aeri grins brightly as jimin scrambles to type the username into her search bar. she fist bumps yizhuo, smiling at the thought of free food.

“oh my gosh, thank you!” jimin squeals, planting a wet kiss on yizhuo’s cheek.

“how’d you find her instagram?” aeri asks curiously. yizhuo shrugs, wiping the lipstick mark left behind coolly, “my friend follows her. asked around for a bit and now people think she owes me money or something.”

aeri stifles a giggle at that and turns her attention back to jimin, who’s still staring at her phone in awe. her fingers are fervently scrolling and swiping, tapping away on the screen. jimin’s devotion to find this mystery girl’s instagram is insane and it brings out the slightest bit of curiosity in aeri.

hence, she peeks over jimin’s shoulder and for her lacklustre description of minjeong, it’s well-fitting, surprisingly.

“she does look like a maltese,” are aeri’s first words. jimin swerves her head back, smiling widely, “i know right!”

“oh, she’s really cute,” aeri notes. minjeong is pretty, like a doll. jimin sends her a withering glare but she just ignores it. the girl is pretty, but not her type. and she definitely isn’t planning on competing in some competition for minjeong’s love alongside her own best friend.

“she’s friends with a lot of unnies,” yizhuo says, listing them off her fingers, “nayeon unnie, jeongyeon unnie, momo unnie— well, that whole friend group. jennie unnie too. and you know mijoo unnie? she’s friends with her too.”

jimin visibly deflates while aeri tries to cheer her up, “but they’re all friends only though, right?”

yizhuo nods, “yup, i haven’t heard of minjeong ever dating anyone either.”

her comment resonates with aeri and a small part of her commends minjeong for not succumbing to the horrors of dating.

with aeri’s words of encouragement, jimin continues to scroll, albeit slower now and not as enthusiastic. she eventually reaches the end of all of minjeong’s posts and hastily scrolls back up.

“check her highlights too,” aeri demands, terribly invested. jimin follows suit, clicking on the first story highlight. it’s full of food that has aeri salivating and jimin swallowing her saliva. yizhuo only watches on, uninterested.

then, jimin clicks on one that’s named ‘solos’ and aeri hears her choke up. the highlight is filled with selfies and photos of minjeong. all very cute and adorable. she internally rolls her eyes and begs jimin to hurry through the stories instead of staring intently at each one. minjeong’s feed is nice, aeri thinks. it’s clean and simple but it still shows enough of her personality.

when jimin finally swipes to the last highlight, aeri’s jaw visibly drops.

“oh my god,” she gapes, snatching jimin’s phone away into her own hands, “who is that?”

“hey! give it back!”

“stop it!” aeri swats jimin’s hand away and with miraculous strength, evades all of her reaches and manages to zoom into the story. minjeong, her face propped up by her palm, and next to her, aeri believes is aphrodite reincarnated. bright doe eyes, pouty lips— oh, aeri might be in love.

she was about to discover if it was possible to lose her voice solely from screaming inside her head.

“oh shit, do you think that’s her girlfriend?” jimin gasps as soon as she sees the story as well and the fight for her phone goes forgotten. they both stare in bewilderment at the photo.

yizhuo eventually pries their fingers off jimin’s phone, sneering, “close your mouth, both of you. she’s y/n.”

aeri jumps into action at her words, “you know this girl? who is she? what’s her name?”

“calm down, damn.”

“sorry— this is the literal love of my life?”

jimin frowns, “that’s what i said about minjeong and you called me deluded.”

ignoring jimin.

“i don’t know her, i know of her,” yizhuo rolls her eyes again. aeri purses her lips at the brattiness of the youngest. since when was their baby so sassy? maybe jimin was too irritating. aeri would understand if that were the case.

“just stalk her account. minjeong definitely tagged her somewhere or she’s in the comments,” jimin suggests.

aeri hollers, “you’re a genius!” it’s her first time saying that to jimin.

through sheer determination and will (yizhuo calls it stupidity), she manages to find minjeong replying to a certain commenter.

mj_0101 been away

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1eeyn i see how it is.. no creds at all

↳ mj_0101 photo creds to my bae

“bae?! jimin— oh my fucking god!” aeri screeches and thank god they’re in jimin’s room and not in public. yizhuo has the gall to cover her ears even though aeri’s been on the receiving end of her dolphin shrieks before.

equally distressed, jimin lets out a choked sob, “of course the pretty girls are dating!”

“guys, i just said they’re only friends.”

“and how do you know that?!”

yizhuo shoots a glare and jimin immediately cowers beside aeri.

“because i know them, duh. y’all are stupid. the moment you two see pretty girls it’s like your ability to think disappears.”

well that, aeri can’t disagree. her brain had no thoughts when she first saw minjeong’s story. just sunshine and rainbows. maybe the distant chiming of wedding bells. or a white, sparkly dress with a long train.

as she gets lost in her thoughts, jimin pries her fingers away from the phone, detaching them carefully. when aeri frowns at her action, the older one merely shrugs, “stalk her on your own phone.”

begrudgingly, she does so, searching up this mystery girl’s instagram. it’s pretty empty, mostly just pictures of nature and food. sometimes she throws in a selfie that makes aeri’s heart clench.

“fuck,” she groans, feeling her throat choke up, “she’s so my type.”

jimin nods in agreement even though aeri’s sure she didn’t hear a word she said. yizhuo rolls her eyes (how many times has she done that?).

“you think she’s into girls?” aeri asks, showing yizhuo a story highlight of some vinyls with clairo’s one right at the front.

“maybe. i don’t know her too well. i heard she’s kind of scary though, like cold and intimidating. she punched someone for picking on minjeong once.”

aeri lets out a huff, one of sheer amazement. lord knows she needs a woman who can fight.

“aeri-ah,” jimin suddenly calls out from her bed.

“yes?”

she gulps, swallowing harshly, “if you text her, i’ll text minjeong.”

yizhuo hums, “you two do that.”

she mulls it over. texting this pretty girl? who’s insanely her type? maybe. what if you were an asshole though? she’s not too sure about whether minjeong would be friends with you if you were mean but she thinks back to your face.

god, she needs you biblically.

“okay, let’s get girlfriends!”

she doesn’t text you at all. it’s a little embarrassing to admit but aeri’s scared! what if she just gets ignored? she couldn’t get her ego bruised like that. and jimin’s no help either! constantly texting her to dm you first even though aeri knows that jimin stares at the empty private chat with minjeong every night.

what she does do is first of all, create another account that’s completely blank, void of any recognition for aeri. then she watches your stories. on repeat. and on one uneventful tuesday, your profile lights up with a ring around it. aeri can’t help herself from viewing it immediately.

and maybe she shouldn’t have, since she’s seething by the time yizhuo texts her.

yizhuo [1.43pm]:

hey guys…

has any1 seen y/n’s story?

jimin [1.44pm]:

minjeong’s account is burned into my screen

but no ☺️

aeri [1.44pm]:

i’m gonna kill myself

jimin [1.46pm]:

😨⁉️

she almost actually throws her phone this time. aeri wants to die. she wants to puke.

what the actual fuck.

her phone rings— she picks up on the first ring.

“so…” yizhuo starts awkwardly.

“what’s going on?! aeri, don’t kill yourself?! you’re my best friend and i might also die without you! i love you, aeri—”

aeri cries out, “she has a girlfriend!”

the other side of the phone goes eerily quiet before jimin’s forehead pops up on screen and her eyebrows are nearly touching her hairline.

“WHAT?!”

“she just posted a photo of her kissing some girl’s cheek!” aeri screeches.

yizhuo winces before adding unhelpfully, “her girlfriend’s pretty though.”

“not the point— also yeah, agreed. but still! what am i gonna do now?!”

jimin frowns, “you can still be friends with her, right?”

“well… i was going to try to hit her up first,” aeri pouts, feeling devastated. she hadn’t even gotten a chance to woo you, and no way was she going to get in the way of a happy relationship! aeri was many things, but she wasn’t a homewrecker.

“maybe you can salvage a friendship out of this,” yizhuo suggests thoughtfully. aeri nods. maybe she should at least try to be friends rather than pursue a romantic relationship. she needed to expand her social circle anyway from just jimin and yizhuo.

“jimin, this means you have to text minjeong now.”

“what?! i’m not ready!”

“it’s just a text! like her story or something!”

jimin stares at her through the screen, affronted. aeri connects the dots quickly enough, “wait, don’t tell me you have been liking all her stories?”

“okay, maybe i have! that’s not a crime. and she liked one of my stories back! the one i posted when we went to eat hotpot! i’m way farther in this than you are—”

aeri hangs up. she can’t deal with a gloating jimin right now.

she needs a clear mind. she needs to think about her next course of action. all that was occupying her mind during the past few days was a wedding with you, but now aeri has a few adjustments to make.

swiping back to your story, aeri frowns. she clicks to the previous one. it’s a photo of you playing with a dog, an adorable samoyed. the background has a few other dogs, so you were probably at a dog cafe.

with your girlfriend, aeri sighs.

she types out, ‘omg where is this?’ it feels friendly and innocent enough. and aeri totally knows which dog cafe you’re at. it’s a rather popular one that she has visited herself.

before aeri can even think again, she sends the message.

god, she should really stop letting jimin get to her head.

within seconds, there’s a reply that makes aeri’s heart soar.

[aerichandesu] 1eeyn

it’s winters village in hongdae!

you’re really pretty btw

score! aeri’s got this in the bag!

she enters the chat and replies with a speed that makes the flash quiver.

aerichandesu [2.10pm]:

omg thankuu 💗

you’re super cute too

you don’t reply but aeri spots the tiny green circle next to your name. you’re online. but why aren’t you replying? was there nothing to reply to? aeri feels her heart sink a little lower. the chat doesn’t pop up with another message and aeri throws her phone aside.

she can’t let a girl plague her mind! aeri’s better than this! puffing her chest out, aeri gathers all the grit and willpower she has in herself and leaves the app.

aeri continues this pattern for the next few days; every time you posted a story, she would slide up. it only started to feel a bit one-sided when you started replying with short and curt responses. maybe you got weirded out by aeri, and she wouldn’t even blame you. sometimes she would send messages at midnight and wake up in the morning, cursing the vulnerability she had previously. she would read back at the chat, cringing at her overeager attitude. even jimin called her out on it! and if even jimin found it weird, aeri must have seemed absolutely psychotic.

“girl, i think you have to stop,” yizhuo says one day.

“stop with what?” aeri asks but she knows damn well what yizhuo’s talking about. jimin’s head perks up, her cheeks stuffed with ramen that aeri so graciously cooked for her when the older had complained about her hunger.

after swallowing, jimin giggles, “your little thing with your girl.”

“uhm, what?”

“i think you’re creeping her out,” yizhuo shakes her head, “if i had this stranger, no matter how cute they are, constantly texting me first, i would be a little scared.”

aeri pouts, feeling admonished, “i haven’t texted her in two days. she isn’t interested.”

“oh thank goodness,” the chinese girl sighs in relief, “i thought you went all joe goldberg on her.”

“i’m not joe! and i would never do that to someone!”

“well, i was worried anyway.”

jimin nudges her shoulder, “there’s a lot of fish in the ocean, right?”

rolling her eyes, aeri pinches at jimin’s side, “imagine if i said that about minjeong.”

“why would you ever say that about minjeong?” jimin furrows her brows, “and i actually texted her.”

aeri shoots up, the thought of her disastrous love life long forgotten as jimin reveals this new information.

“you did?! holy shit, congrats dude!”

jimin looks away, sheepish, “i replied to her story and she said that she remembers me from school. i don’t know how i missed seeing someone like her around. she said she really likes bowling, so i’m thinking of bringing her to bowl.”

genuinely happy for her friend, aeri pats her on the back while yizhuo gives a pleased nod. aeri kind of wishes her endeavour with you could go this smoothly. she certainly doesn’t remember you from school, nor does it seem you remember her. maybe you just weren’t in the same classes.

“guess it’s just me now, huh?” aeri laughs, despite the slight embarrassment she feels from being ignored.

jimin pouts, “you’ll find someone better.”

aeri thinks of the way her heart flutters when you reply or post something new, and she thinks that she’s never felt this strongly attracted to someone before without even knowing them.

yeah, she doesn’t think she will.

aeri’s totally fine. she’s gone two weeks without even glancing at your profile and she’s okay. there were some withdrawal symptoms at first, like the increasing urge to reply to your story or like it, but aeri’s determination outweighs her adoration. thus, she lives life without ever thinking about you again.

(that was a lie. she still wonders about it at night.)

yizhuo had applauded her ‘getting over’ you and so had jimin, who was barely online nowadays because she was hanging out with minjeong. aeri’s glad her best friend has found someone she likes. and she’s over the moon that jimin has found a new victim for her teasing. apparently, minjeong had better reactions, so yizhuo and aeri cheered knowing minjeong would suffer now.

jimin had been bugging them to finally meet minjeong and hang out as a group for the longest time. aeri doesn’t know if she actually brought her to that bowling date but the restaurant they picked out is expensive and jimin’s paying. so naturally, she agrees instantly.

what jimin doesn’t say is that minjeong would be bringing someone along.

coincidentally, you.

hence, aeri’s sitting right across from you, not daring to lift her head up in fear that she might make eye contact. after acting so desperate in your dms, aeri would rather die than face you directly.

you stare at her bizarrely as minjeong introduces you to jimin’s friends.

“this is yizhuo and aeri, we all went to the same high school together,” minjeong informs you, “but i don’t think we ever crossed paths before.”

“no, we haven’t,” you confirm. aeri glances at you meekly before darting her gaze to the menu.

“nice to meet you, y/n,” yizhuo smiles sweetly, making up for the silence that aeri provided. you’re still a little confused as to why aeri wasn’t talking right now.

maybe she thinks you don’t recognise her? but you do. she’s the pretty girl that randomly popped up one day and started replying to your stories.

“nice to meet you too,” you grin, “nice to see you in person as well, aeri-ssi.”

you watch, surprised, as aeri barely acknowledges your words, only nodding slightly. wasn’t she quite bold online? why was she acting like this now?

“shall we order?” jimin asks, snapping the menu shut. after calling over the waiter, you shift your eyes back to aeri, staring appreciatively at her outfit. one thing you noticed from her instagram feed was that she dressed well. you wanted to ask her where she shops but she seemed a second away from exploding.

you whip out your phone, earning a flinch from aeri.

y/n bae [7.24pm]:

is smth wrong w aeri?

mindoongie [7.24pm]:

uhmm idk 😓

idt she’s usually like this

jiminie said she’s quite sociable

awesome. so that meant you were the problem.

resting your head on your palm, you turn your attention to yizhuo, asking, “what are you currently studying?”

“oh, i’m doing fashion design,” she answers, twirling the knife.

“that’s interesting. could you ever design something for me one day?”

yizhuo chuckles, “i’ll cast you as my model if i get big. what about you?”

“i’ll definitely pursue something in modelling but i’m studying medicine right now.”

engrossed in your conversation, you barely notice aeri’s pout. the girl seemed a little too timid and shy as to what you’ve seen online. and minjeong and jimin seemed to be talking about something else.

“y/n, are you dating anyone right now?” yizhuo asks suddenly. you falter, recalling the girl you had just broken up with a few days ago, “ah, no. not currently.”

in your haste to recover, you miss the nudge yizhuo gives go aeri.

spurred on, aeri asks, “do you have time to date while studying?”

“hm, it was manageable,” you reply, “it got tiring when she needed a lot of my time though.”

aeri stares at you wistfully before coughing.

you wonder why she asked that.

[aerichandesu] 1eeyn

hi, can u help me say thanku to jimin?

for taking care of my best friend

aeri blinks at the message. it’s the first time you’ve texted her first.

aerichandesu [10.43pm]:

sure

she still feels awkward for acting so desperate previously. it doesn’t feel right to act like that anymore. and aeri does feel a little bad for how cold she was during dinner.

1eeyn [10.44pm]:

thank u aeri chan

aeri-chan? where did that come from? suddenly, she feels the stutter in her heart resurfacing after she had tried to bury it.

1eeyn [10.45pm]:

we didn’t get to talk much, huh?

aerichandesu [10.45pm]:

no sorry

i wasn’t feeling well

it feels like the safest lie she can tell.

1eeyn [10.46pm]:

that’s a shame

are you feeling better now?

aerichandesu [10.46pm]

yes, i am

1eeyn [10.46pm]:

that’s good

rest well aeri-chan 💗

oh my god, aeri needs to text the group chat!

over the next few days, you were relentless with your texts. it felt like you and aeri had swapped roles. she didn’t know to adapt to this new side of you without seeming like a bumbling fool. you would send selfies! selfies! asking aeri for her opinion. the first time you sent one, aeri’s nose started bleeding and she scared jimin half to death, thinking aeri was dying.

(“she sent me a selfie! of her face!” aeri wails, covering her nose with bloody tissues.

jimin grimaces at the blood, “well, yes. selfies are usually of someone’s face.”)

then, you would send your outfits, or whatever you ate that day. slowly, aeri started warming up to you too and would begin to send her own photos. normally she would send photos of her dogs or jimin and yizhuo being silly. then they evolved into selfies.

aeri likes what she has with you right now. you were building up a friendship that aeri appreciated. she liked your humour and personality as well, complementing her own rather nicely. minjeong and jimin begin dating as well, making your proximity even closer as the two would constantly drag everyone to hangouts. to be frank, aeri can’t believe that this all started because jimin saw a cute girl at a cafe, but somehow, it makes sense too.

how an insignificant moment such as minjeong deciding to buy coffee that day helped aeri gain two new best friends, she would never know. but she liked it. it felt like fate. leaning on your shoulder, aeri shoves a handful of popcorn into her mouth.

“no scary movies please,” jimin begs, tugging at minjeong’s shirt. yizhuo laughs and eggs minjeong on to pick a horror film while aeri stares at her best friends affectionately.

“you like scary movies?” you whisper to aeri.

she shakes her head, already feeling shivers run down her spine at the thought of being jumpscared countless times. jimin’s reaction would be funny as hell. but no way was she sacrificing her own sanity for something like that. if she wanted jimin to go insane, she had ten other ways to do that.

“nooo not the conjuring please!”

aeri cowers into herself, dreading the night already. this was a weekly occurrence, having a movie night at jimin’s apartment. it started with just the three of them and then minjeong and you got invited soon after. the honour of picking a movie was passed down every week and aeri detests it when it’s minjeong’s turn. that girl would pick scary films just to annoy jimin and aeri always gets caught in the crossfire somehow.

“don’t worry, minjeongie wants to watch despicable me tonight. she’s just playing with jimin,” you comfort. aeri nods as minjeong hovers exceptionally long on the nun before finally moving to despicable me. jimin cheers in exhilaration and yizhuo boos.

“oh my gosh, babe! i love the minions!”

“minions and despicable me are two different movies!” yizhuo sneers. just as the movie starts, jimin, minjeong and yizhuo begin bickering. aeri knows how the argument will end— with jimin apologising and minjeong and yizhuo emerging victorious.

a gush of hot air beside her ear makes her jump, “they’re cute, aren’t they?”

aeri follows your gaze to where jimin and minjeong’s fingers are interwoven even though they’re arguing.

“yeah, silly but cute.”

you chuckle, slipping your hand into aeri’s under the blanket, “we can’t lose to them, right?”

she gets caught off guard for just a second before bouncing back.

“no, i’ll never lose to jimin.”

your laugh makes aeri’s cheeks heat up slightly. as you ramble on about the movie, she listens to every word attentively, wanting to savour the smoothness and richness of your voice. her smaller hand stays tight in your bigger one, feeling the warmth emitting from your palm.

aeri’s heart feels content.

she’s happy here, being friends with you.

unfortunately (or fortunately), the friendship doesn’t last for long.

after that particular movie night, aeri has noticed a change in your behaviour. you’ve become touchier, for lack of a better term. more lingering touches around her shoulder, hands, waist, wrists, wherever her skin was. you would gaze into her eyes before smiling shyly and looking away. you would offer to bring her lunch even though she knows you’re busy with your internship. not to mention the influx of messages. if aeri thought your selfies were bad for her heart before, it resembled a tsunami drowning her heart now.

photos, of every kind, most of them in your scrubs and uniform, smiling at the camera gleefully, as if you weren’t working an all-nighter. and on your off-days, aeri finds you staying up to talk to her. she’s busy during the day, so she doesn’t really check her phone often. when she finally does, she’s welcomed by your chat. the once intimidating girl that she admired online had turned into the girl that camped in her dms.

she had asked before, why you would text her so much. your response had been equally confusing, asking her back if she wanted you to stop. of course not. the aeri a few months ago wished for days that you would reply with more than four words. now, it seemed like you constantly had paragraphs of stories to tell her. not that she was complaining.

then, one day, the messages stop. aeri’s a little bewildered when she checks her phone and nothing’s there but she goes to bed anyway. maybe you were working a really long shift? sometimes she would catch you at four in the morning, so perhaps you were catching up on some much needed sleep.

but when she wakes up the next day, there’s only a lone message asking for her to meet you.

aeri agrees, yet she can’t help but wonder about the spontaneous nature of the message. it was sent in the morning, so it seemed like you had been thinking about it all night.

after dressing herself, she left her apartment, nervous but excited at the prospect of seeing you again. the last time you met face to face was over a week ago and aeri’s suffering from y/n drought.

you had requested to meet at lunchtime and when aeri arrives at the restaurant, you’re already there, seated and deep in thought.

“hey,” she greets, “slept well?”

you didn’t, but you nod anyway.

“did you have a shift yesterday?” aeri asks as you order your regulars.

“uhm, no. sorry i didn’t text you, i was busy doing something else.”

“nah, it’s fine. i was helping ning with her designs anyway.”

you nod stiffly and aeri reaches out a hand to cover yours, “are you good? you seem a little off.”

“i’m fine!” your voice comes out squeakier than usual but aeri brushes it off.

“so, what’s up?” she finally asks.

you tap your fingernails on the table, gulping harshly, “i just wanted to talk.”

“mhm, sure.”

“i wanted to know… well… uhm, if you were still interested in me,” you ask, eyes flickering to aeri hesitantly. aeri gapes at you before stammering, “wh-why? what— what do you mean?”

you inhale sharply, “i know you were interested in me at the start, but are you still interested now?”

aeri withdraws her hand, “uh, why?”

furrowing your eyebrows, you grit your teeth, “please just tell me.”

“uhm. well… yes? but why—”

“because i’m interested. and i want to find out if the feeling’s the same,” you blurt out. aeri’s eyes widen considerably and if your heart wasn’t racing a mile, you would coo at her cuteness.

“if you were interested before… why didn’t you say anything?” aeri asks, her voice trailing off at the end. you sigh, pinching your nose bridge, “i was dating someone at the time. it wasn’t right for me to encourage someone who liked me that much.”

aeri nods, already feeling guilty for her desperation before.

“i’m sorry for my coldness but i could already tell you were interested in me and as someone who had a girlfriend then, i couldn’t message back with the same eagerness,” you explain.

“no, it’s fine. that was a stupid question but uhm, i thought you didn’t like me back.”

“we became friends first, then i started to have feelings for you. as i learnt more about you, i started to like you more.”

aeri feels a little silly with her immediate infatuation. huh. maybe she got her ‘friends to lovers’ trope after all.

“i hope that now, i can take you on a date?” you ask and how can aeri refuse that? your bright, gleaming, expectant eyes? aeri felt her heart crushed with adoration.

“yes, obviously. you’re my ideal type and everything. you know i had thoughts about our wedding when i first met you—”

“oh, is that why you were so quiet that night?”

“yeah, you just looked really pretty under the lighting and i already started to imagine how you would look like dressed in all white and how our wedding would seem, maybe i would pick yizhuo as my maid of honour and minjeong could be yours but jimin would totally throw a fuss and—”

you smile widely as aeri babbles on, chiming in every once in a while to insert your own thoughts.

when she finally finishes, the expression on your face makes her whole being ascend.

maybe all those useless blind dates with shitty luck amounted to her finding the love of her life.

thank you! aeri would later exclaim to that horoscope-obsessed girl and the gym rat. who knew that those catastrophic dates would finally gift her you, her first girlfriend (and last!).

[missmatchablossom]

summary: you finally got hired to work as a teacher for your dream school, jujutsu high. everything was perfect until you ran into gojo satoru, your first love and heartbreak.

a/n: angst + fluff, female reader. this is the first time I've written a story more on the angsty side, so please let me know if you like it : ) I was feeling angsty after listening to eternal sunshine and bam this story suddenly came to me

tags: @kenqki @sad-darksoul

~

When you caught a glance at that familiar shade of blue, you froze. That specific hue was a color you avoided at all costs, the color of heartbreak and dreams you never followed.

He looked at you, and suddenly you were 18 again. It was simultaneously the best and worse year of your life; the year you fell in love with Satoru, and the year he left you. 

Your heartbeat felt sickening in your own chest as he walked towards you, his eyes widened and jaw slacked as if he were in a trance. Like he hadn’t expected to see you again.

It’s not like you thought you’d see him again either. You had told yourself that even if you did, it wouldn’t hurt, because you’d moved on. It had been years since you gave up on him, so you should be feeling nothing as your first love came to a halt in front of you, gazing at you as if you were the only thing that mattered to him.

It didn’t feel like nothing, though. It felt a whole like despair, relief, and joy warring with each other, causing your fingertips to tremble as if your body couldn’t decide which emotion to settle on.

“Long time no see, Gojo,” you said, attempting to offer a warm smile. Though the tremulous note to your voice must have betrayed how you were truly feeling.

He frowned ever so slightly when you said his name, like he wasn’t used to you calling him by his last name. It was formal and cold - when things between you two used to be anything but. 

“You’re here,” he said, though it sounded like he was saying it to himself rather than talking to you. 

“Ah, Gojo. I see you’ve met our newest hire. She’ll be working with your students for the summer, I imagine you two will be working together closely,” the principal said. But Gojo wasn’t looking at him. You still felt the heavy weight of his gaze, like he was scared you’d disappear if he looked away.

“Why don’t you two grab lunch together? Gojo can catch you up on his students,” the principal said. So why did your body go rigid at his harmless suggestion?

“Sorry, I have to make a phone call during lunch! Gojo, feel free to email me any details I need to know,” you said quickly, smiling before you darted towards the courtyard.

You cursed yourself for running away, like a coward. What was there to be afraid of? He was someone you loved years ago, and time washed away any lingering feelings you had for him…right? 

At least that’s what you’d always told yourself. But maybe deep down, you feared some of those feelings would never go away. And that they’d definitely resurface if you let yourself be near him, if you let yourself remember how much he used to mean to you. How badly he hurt you.

You shook your head, hoping the crisp morning air would wash some sense into you. This position was your dream job, and you weren’t gonna let your past demons take that away from you. You could be civil, you could work with him like the mature adult you were. It would be okay.

~

“I wonder if our new teach would tell me where she gets her lipgloss?” Nobara asked aloud, walking in step with Yuji and Megumi as they filed out of the classroom.

“She’s really pretty,” Yuji said, smiling cheesily. It was a buzz amongst all the students actually, how beautiful the newest teacher was. The students warmed up to her quickly, captivated by her knowledge and how easy she was to talk to. 

“Gojo always looks like he’s in a trance whenever he sees her,” Megumi said, making his two companions snap their attention to him.

“Do you think they’re dating?!” Nobara nearly yelled, her eyes widening comically.

“Maybe not. They both look kinda sad when they look at each other and they think the other person isn’t looking,” Megumi noted, looking deep in thought.

“Woah, you’re so observant. Maybe they’re exes, I heard they knew each other when they were younger,” Yuji said.

“Eh? No way sensei could pull someone like her,” Nobara said.

~

Two weeks have passed since you began teaching, and you loved it. Plus, you’d managed to have as minimal contact with Gojo as possible. Things would be fine after all.

You stepped into the teacher’s lounge, eager to grab your bag and head back home now that the day was over. But your bag wasn’t on the hook where you usually hung it up. When you turned around however, Gojo was leaning against the doorframe, taking up nearly the entire frame.

“Can I help you with something, Gojo?” you asked politely, willing your heart to settle down at his proximity.

“Can we talk?” he asked, and there it was again. The inexplicable feeling that swarmed your senses whenever you heard the sound of his voice, no matter what he was saying. Your traitorous body responded to it no matter how much you told it not to.

“Um, tomorrow might be better during our free period! I’m actually looking for my…” you began, stopping your sentence as Gojo used two fingers to effortlessly lift your heavy bag.

“I’ll give this back to you when you agree to have dinner with me. Tonight,” he said, flashing a boyish smile at you that was oh so painfully familiar. 

“You can’t be serious,” you said, crossing your arms as Gojo took another step towards you. He was so close, and much taller than you remembered. He seemed to take up the entirety of the room you were in, making it harder to breathe and think clearly.

“I thought you knew me better than that, tea. I absolutely am,” he drawled, and the butterflies in your stomach swarmed at the mention of his old nickname for you. Hearing it used to fill you with love and light, because he began calling you the endearment after learning how much you adored tea. He’d often show up at your door with your favorite drinks, happily indulging in your obsession. 

You blinked the memory away, refocusing your gaze back to the man in front of you. 

“This isn’t funny,” you said, reaching towards your bag. He lifted it up and out of your reach easily.

“What isn’t funny is how you’ve been avoiding me since you got here. Why can you barely look me in the eye?” he said, the slight hurt in his voice hitting your heart. Your eyes darted around the room in a panic before you answered.

“Can you really blame me? We don’t have the best history,” you said, your voice coming off harsher than you intended. 

“That’s what I want to clear up. Just hear me out this once, please,” he said, his tone softening as he spoke. You hated it, how quickly you could feel yourself giving into him. After a beat of silence, you spoke.

“Just this once,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. 

There it was. That familiar, triumphant upturn of his lips. 

~

You second guessed your choice as you walked towards Gojo’s car - a sleek, navy luxury car you remember he’d gotten for his 18th birthday. But there was no way he didn’t have other cars by now, so you couldn’t help but wonder if he picked this car today on purpose.

He swiftly opened the door to the passenger seat, allowing you to slip in before he slid into the drivers seat.

There was something undeniably intimate about being alone in the car with him. Being in such close quarters meant you could smell the cologne clinging to his skin, the minty remnants of the mints he always carried with him. You felt bespelled watching his long fingers wrap around the wheel, blushing as he wrapped his arm around your headrest and leaned towards you to look behind him as he backed out of the spot. 

A memory flooded towards you. Of a freshly 18-year old Gojo excitedly picking you up in his shiny new car, nearly getting you into a car crash as he carelessly spun the wheel in his excitement. You’d given him a firm talking to about him being careful, and he smiled at you sheepishly before he walked you to get ice cream. 

The sound of buttons clicking pulled you from your reverie. You watched wordlessly as Gojo set the seat warmer to the lowest setting and turned the ac up to 71, the exact settings you used to switch them to whenever you were his passenger princess.

“Is that still how you like it?” he asked, casting you a quick sideways glance before returning his eyes to the road. You wondered if you imagined the hopeful note to his voice.

“Yes,” you answered quietly. 

Oh , I definitely still like it, you thought, eyes roaming across Gojo’s figure as he drove. His seat was leaned back to make room for his long legs, and he kept one hand on the wheel as he drove with the elegant ease he must’ve developed in your time apart. It was stupid, how attracted you still were to him.

You didn’t miss the way Gojo glanced at you ogling him, the corner of his lip tipping up like it so pleased him.

~

You followed Gojo into a gorgeous restaurant that you were undoubtedly underdressed for. A smartly dressed man greeted the two of you immediately, leading you to a table right in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. It offered you a gorgeous view of the skyline, the soft glow of the sunset making the silverware sparkle. 

You couldn’t help but look around in confusion at the quietness of the restaurant - save for the nice host, you were the only ones there.

“I booked out the place for the night. So we could catch up in peace,” Gojo said easily, as if that were something normal to do. You couldn’t say you were too surprised though, as he had the same penchant for spending and the fortune to back it since he was younger.

“Of course you did,” you said, shaking your head as you smiled to yourself.

Gojo leaned forward in his seat, studying you like you just performed magic.

“I’ve missed that smile of yours,” he said softly. It wasn’t fair, the way the last bits of sunshine of the day lit up the gold  flecks in his eyes. The way his hair nearly shone silver, making him look otherworldly as he told you he missed you. 

“I don’t know what to say to you, Gojo,” you said, forcing neutrality into your tone. But as soon as you spoke the words, you could hear how sad they sounded.

“Do you hate me?” he asked, sounding like his younger self once more. 

You met his eyes, releasing a deep breath as you did your best to offer a smile.

“I don’t think I could ever hate you,” you admitted, watching the way his shoulders eased ever so slightly.

“But you hurt me,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

“I was ready to stick out long distance when you moved away. You stopped answering my calls, responding to my letters. I tried reaching you for months before I gave up, Gojo. There was no goodbye, no explanation. What was I supposed to think? How do you expect me to greet you with a smile now as if nothing happened?” you said, your voice cracking towards the end. 

“I know we were 18 and stupid, but I…” 

I loved you. You were everything to me. And no matter how much time had past, how much you dated around, no one ever compared to you.

You shook your head, unable to get the words out.

It would forever be fresh in your mind, the day you found out Gojo was being shipped off to a different country by his stupid family to train. 

The devastation was overwhelming. You curled up in your room, crying into your pillow as Gojo sat silently on the edge of your bed.

“Do you really have to go?” you sniffed, though it didn’t sound like that, with your throat clogged with tears.

Gojo laid beside you, pulling your back to his chest as he held you and buried his face in your hair.

“I don’t have a choice, tea. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking off at the end. You turned around, wrapping your arms around him as he held you brusingly tight. You rubbed his back as you felt his tears hit your shoulder.

After the cry you both needed, you faced each other silently, as if you were committing each other to memory.

“I won’t give up on us. I’ll call you everyday to bug the hell out of you,” he said, giving you the first lopsided smile of the night.

“For how long, though?” you said sadly, feeling the hope leeching out of you with each word you said aloud.

“For as long as it takes for me to become the strongest. And for you to become the teacher you’ve always wanted to be. I’ll come back for you,” he promised, lacing his long fingers through yours. There was hope alight in those eyes of his, convincing your own hope to stay.

“You promise?” you asked, sounding so much more like a young child than you wished.

“I promise.” he said, and you kissed him then. There was something so magnetic about him, the type of person that made you want to believe anything was possible. But you hadn’t known that would be the last time you kissed.

You had no way of knowing that your boyfriend would keep up with his promise for a month, and then suddenly leave you with nothing. He stopped responding to your letters, stopped his calls, stopped reminding you how much he loved you. The only time you ever heard about him was when the news featured his growing talents.

The sound of Gojo’s voice ripped you away from the memory.

“You have every right to be upset with me,” he began, his cerulean eyes betraying his grief.

“Was there someone else?” you asked before you could think better, cursing yourself.

“No,” he said forcefully, wincing like it hurt him for you to think that.

“There was never anyone else. Never,” he said, and you couldn’t help the relief flooding your chest.

“They got in my head about you. Convinced me that I was holding you back, that you could never focus on school enough to become a teacher good enough to teach at Jujutsu High if you were in a long distance relationship with me. I thought I was doing what was best for you,” he said, his voice low and regretful as he spoke. 

The man across from you blurred as tears filled your vision. You spent months agonizing over the possible reasons he would abandon your relationship, and your young, heartbroken self was convinced it had something to do with you. That he found someone, and suddenly you weren't his cup of tea anymore. Never did it cross your mind that he thought he was doing you a favor by ghosting you.

“God, Gojo. Why didn’t you just talk to me?” you cried, doing nothing to mask the grief in your voice. 

“I knew you’d tell me that it was incredibly stupid of me. And I know it was now, but back then I thought it would be easier if I made the choice for you. You deserved to have your full focus on pursuing teaching,” he said solemnly, lifting a hand towards your face as if he were going to wipe your tears, but laying his hand back down like he thought against it.

“You’re right, that was incredibly stupid of you,” you said, heaving a deep breath as your swiped the last of your tears.

“But I get why you did it. I just wish you would’ve included me in that choice, because you know what I thought? I thought if you could discard me, discard us that easily, that I must’ve not meant as much to you as you meant to me. That you didn’t love me as much as I loved you,” you said shakily, a single traitorous tear falling down your cheek.

Your emotions overwhelmed you as you saw his eyes begin to shine with unshed tears - a sight that hurt you as much as it did when you were both 18.

“I never stopped loving you,” he said, his voice hushed as he made the confession.

It felt like you were no longer in your own body as emotions assaulted you all at once. Happiness, relief, confusion, devastation. They warred with each other, and you didn’t know if the burst of nerves you were feeling was panic or excitement.

“You don’t mean that. Maybe you still love who I was when I was 18, but things are different now. I’m different,” you said, watching as Gojo shook his head softly.

“You’re right. You have become even more beautiful than I remember,” he began, and you knew you had lost. This wasn’t a game, but somehow you still lost.

“I’ve seen the way you work with the kids. I’m in awe of how confident and capable you’ve become. But I’ve also seen what hasn’t changed,” he said, leaning towards you with the light back in his eyes.

“Your tenacity. Your kindness. Your intelligence. Your drive. The way your eyes light up when you teach, the way you see the best in people. That’s how I fell in love with you, and I know thats still there,” he said, looking at you with the kind of reverence you forgot existed.

You closed your eyes as you failed at calming your thunderous heart. 

“I can’t do this, Gojo. I can’t put myself in a position to be hurt by you again,” you said, casting your eyes down in your lap. You couldn’t bear to see defeat in his eyes.

You jolted as you felt the soothing, painfully familiar touch of his hand over yours. 

“Look at me,” he pleaded softly, coaxing your eyes back towards his. When you met them again, they were filled with warmth, and you believed it. That he still loved you.

“You don’t owe me anything. I’ll stay out of your way if that’s what you want. But I’m not taking back what I said. I’ve loved you since before you were mine. And I always will.” He finished you off by lifting your hand to his lips, a gesture you were still a used to be a sucker for.

~

In the days that followed, Gojo consumed your every thought. It didn’t help that you worked so closely, and it especially didn’t help to see how good he was with the students. He goofed around with them more than a normal teacher would, but he taught them earnestly. No matter how much they complained about his antics, you could tell your students loved him.

It also didn’t help when he began leaving your favorite milk tea on your desk before the start of every school day, earning you a “wow teach, you must really love that tea shop,” comment from Yuji.

It was slightly embarrassing, but you couldn’t deny how much it brightened your day to see that cup of tea sitting on your desk, knowing how much Gojo still thought of you. And it didn’t stop at tea.

Over the course of the next month, your favorite flowers began showing up with your tea. Sometimes, instead of flowers it was your favorite candy. Gojo never lingered around to hand them to you himself, just giving you sweet smiles and waves whenever you locked eyes. You knew it was his way of giving you space to choose, and no matter how cheesy it was, it was working.

~

It was about 3 months after that dinner that you found yourself sitting with the principal for your quarterly one-on-one. You were pleased to hear the praises of your work and the positive feedback he’d received from students regarding you, but something in particular he said had you shaken up.

“I knew you and Gojo would work well together. You both had very moving reasons for wanting to teach here,” he said casually.

“Moving reasons?” you pressed, feeling like you were on the verge of something.

“Oh, yes. I was highly impressed by your years of dedication and experience, you were an obvious choice. But Gojo didn’t have much teaching experience when I hired him, it was really his reason for teaching that sold me on him,” he answered. And you didn’t know why, but your pulse grew uncomfortably quick.

“He told me that teaching helped him feel close to someone he loved. And that person taught him how powerful a good teacher could be,” the principal said. There was a beat of silence, followed by the screeching sound your chair made and you sat up suddenly. You apologized and excused yourself, rushing towards a certain office door.

Your movements were too quick for your thoughts to catch up. You just knew you had to see him.

He wasn’t in his office. Not in his classroom, not in the teacher’s lounge. That sickening panic began invading your senses, reminding you that it wasn’t the first time you desperately searched for Gojo and couldn’t find him.

But you pushed past it and kept walking. You walked until you reached the outer edge of campus, spotting a flash of silver hair atop a hill that overlooked the school. 

You ran towards it like your life depended on it, huffing and puffing until you finally locked gazes with the most beautiful eyes you have ever seen. Though the eyes that normally regarded you with warmth were unusually widened with concern as Gojo ran towards you.

“Hey, whats going on-”

“Why did you become a teacher?” you said, struggling to catch your breath. Gojo looked stunned for a second, staring at you silently as he waited for you to continue.

“Why did you decide to work for Jujutsu High, out of all the high schools in Japan?” you continued, watching as his expression turned pensive. But his eyes shone with all the words he’d yet to say.

“I didn’t intend on becoming a teacher. I just gave it a shot one day, because I knew how passionate you were about it. And I loved it,” he said, staring out wistfully towards the lecture halls.

“As for why I picked Jujutsu High,” he began, turning his body towards you again. He walked to you, stopping until there was barely a step of space between your bodies. 

“I picked it because I knew this was your dream school to work at. I hoped I would see you again if I worked here,” he admitted, smiling sadly. You shook your head in disbelief.

“This was my dream school when I was 18. What if I changed my mind and worked somewhere else? What if I didn’t even become a teacher?” you said frantically, searching for a crack in his resolve.

Gojo reached out, cupping your cheek in his hand. You had no choice but to tilt your head up to meet his, feeling new emotions flooding you at the look in his eyes.

“Doesn’t matter. The thought of seeing you again is what has kept me going all these years. Even if I mean nothing to you now,” he breathed, removing his hand from your cheek. He stepped away from you, giving you the space you realized you no longer wanted.

You didn’t know if you wanted to laugh or cry at this new revelation. But you did know one thing; you wanted Gojo Satoru. You wanted another shot with him.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him tightly and burying your face into his chest. He smelled like mint and summer and everything good with the world as his arms immediately came up to hold you to him.

He released a shaky breath as he held you, like he couldn’t believe he’d get to do it again.

“Of course you still mean something to me,” you whispered through tears you didn’t realize you were shedding. Gojo gently pulled back from your hug, capturing both your face between his hands. He swiped his thumbs gently against your tears, that reverent, warm gaze back in those eyes of his.

“What should I make of that, tea?” he asked, tucking an errant strand of hair behind your ear. You realized how much you missed his touch, how you’ve longed to feel his smooth, porcelain skin against yours again.

“You’re gonna have to work reallyyyy hard if you want me to fall in love with you again,” you said, smiling as his eyes widened and his jaw slacked.

Liar. It wouldn’t take much at all.

“You’re giving me another chance?” he said incredulously. You nodded shyly, smiling as Gojo awarded you with the most brilliant, heart-stopping smile. The kind that crinkled his eyes at the corners, the kind that stretched his cheeks, the kind that you had no choice but to mirror.

The breath left your body as Gojo lifted you up by your hips, swinging you around in a circle like the last scene of a Disney movie where the prince and princess reunited. 

It felt like a weight was released from your shoulders as he spun you around, the two of you laughing like teenagers again.

“Thank you,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

~

“They have to be dating, there’s no way they’re not!” Nobara exclaimed, walking to get food with the other first years after class.

“Gojo sensei follows her around like a puppy. I could actually see hearts in his eyes when he looks at her! I swore I even heard her call him Toru,” Yuji said, him and Nobara nodding to each other intently.

“Maybe. Our new teacher has been looking really happy lately,” Megumi said.

[calisources]

𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

All these quotes are taken from different works of fiction and depict sensual, sexual tension between two people in different scenarios. There are some that are suggestive while others are more detail so this meme is nsft and usft, please tag accordingly. Mentions of jealousy, possessiveness, sex, fantasies are all here. Change pronouns, names, locations as you see fit.

I knew the first moment I saw him that it was going to be raw, it was going to be ugly, and I was going to enjoy every damn minute of it.

You're still looking.

You make it hard to look away.

I'm over here keeping my hands and memories to myself because you asked me to, that’s not fair.

If you'd just man up and admit there's something between us, I would strip down to my skin so you could see every single inch of me.

How long are you going to make me wait?

How awfully presumptuous of you to think I'd let you.

You missed my arrogance almost as much as I missed your impudence, little one.

You said not to fall for you. Did you change your mind?

We both needed to blow off some steam, and we did, right?

They say the colour of a lady’s lips is an exact match to another region on the body?

You're too soft.

Can we go back to making out now?

You sound jealous.

Then tell me this is what you truly want. Swear you want this more than anything else and I'll never mention it again.

If you want me to play the bawd, at least give me the benefit of your advice.

Tell me how it's done. Do you think she'd like it if I came to her like this, if I looked deeply in to her eyes?

And then like this? Is this how I ought to seduce her?

You're wet, aren't you?

You drove me mad.

She asked me not to be gentle with her, either,I would have been gentle with you, though.

I would have had you moaning my name throughout it all. And I would have taken a very, very long time, Feyre.

I'm all yours to look at, you know.

You need to let me go, darling, before we start something I intend to finish.

Feel free to touch, darling. It's all yours.

. . .I hate you.

Say it again.

Grind it. Nice and fine.

I gave him a few smiles and he handed over a family heirloom. I bet he'd give me the keys to his territory if I showed up wearing those undergarments.

Why shouldn't I? You seem to have difficulty not staring at me day and night.

Am I supposed to deny, that I find you attractive?

Is that a challenge, Feyre?

Do you think it's fair that you have seen every inch of me, and I have seen none of you?

Move with me now.

Touch me anywhere you please.

I want you to make love to me.

Do you know what that truly means?

You do know? You know that I will be inside you and that I will move inside you, until we are both mad from pleasure?

I want you inside me.

You have three minutes to get ready now.

I did dream about you. I didn’t want to, but I did.

What was I doing in your dreams?

Someone is watching us through the window.

All the more reason to put on a good show.

You're not in a position to make demands.

The best things are found in the most secret places.

And you are a beautiful, sexy temptress who is about to be fucked by a man who wants her so desperately he's willing to do anything to have her.

When I'm with a woman, it's not me doing the begging.

You're rubbing yourself all over me. What did you think was going to happen?

I thought you were all about self-control.

I remember how powerful those thighs are.

You are more beautiful than I imagined.

And your skin... Christ, it shimmers like gold.

I'm naked underneath.

Tell me----did it get you off knowing I was watching?

I want to take you under the moonlight.

Please, don’t stop.

Oh, so I shouldn’t? That would be cruel of me, wouldn’t it?

I am the cruelest man you will ever meet, but, I will make you feel so good, you will not care.

I’ve never been with a man before.

You do bad things to me, Carrie. Very bad things.

And you, Miss, are no lady.

[lisired]

where angels fear to tread

pairing: jaehyun x (f) reader

genre/warnings: fwb to lovers, fluff, implied smut, angst

summary: Three years ago, you had a summer fling with Jung Jaehyun, and what was simply sex turned into more after you caught feelings for him. Then, you find out he has a girlfriend, and decide to call it quits. Three years later, he's back in town, trying to come back in your life, and most importantly trying to come back into your heart, but you're a little hesitant to let him.

word count: 14.5k

a/n: i think this was my first jaehyun fic? LOL… as always, feedback is appreciated!

“Not fair.”

“It’s very much fair, Jaemin.”

“How come the blueberry head gives you shit on the house? I asked him for a free coffee and he told me the only way I was getting coffee for free was if he splashed it on my face. Very unprofessional. I demand the manager.”

You want to tell him that the manager would just suck up to Taeyong in private because the customer is always wrong, but something in you tells you to be quiet.

“Saved his life,” you shrug, digging a fork into your pie.

“Saved his life?” Jaemin repeats, wide-eyed, “you just said that like it was the most normal thing ever.”

“I don’t think he would have actually died,” you mutter, but decide to tell the tale anyway, “You remember when I told you I was taking a two-week vacation out of town because Yeri invited me and some of her friends to her stepdad’s beach house?” Jaemin nods, “Well Taeyong was one of those friends. Saved him from drowning in the pool, and ever since he thinks he owes me his life, so he gives me a lifetime worth of stuff on the house.”

You consider Jaemin your best friend, although him not physically being with you for the past two years was the reason why he’s unaware of some minor details of your life during those years. Of course, he knew about the vacation—you had so much fun that you told him nearly every damn detail of it—but there was still some things you kept to yourself. Such as how you saved Taeyong from drowning. You thought that you’d look like a praise-seeker for bringing that up anyway.

You scan the room for Taeyong (the blueberry head) and once your eyes find him, you wave and wink. He waves back and smiles bashfully, before tending to one of his customers. You also think that Taeyong might have a little crush on you, but that’s not relevant at the moment.

“Oh wow. I guess not all heroes wear capes. Some heroes wear pie crumbs on their mouths.”

You wipe the corner of your mouth with a napkin then squeeze it into a ball to throw at Jaemin, making him gasp dramatically and start rambling about how you shouldn’t treat the best friend you haven’t seen in two years like this, but the chime of the cafe door distracts you. Your face falls in horror, and you’re still as a statue as it all races back. The pain, the memories, the emotions, everything you gave him that you can’t take back.

“I have to go,” you say, but Jaemin grabs your wrist.

His voice is filled to the brim with concern, “What’s wrong?”

Where you do even start? You sigh, ducking your head on the table in an attempt to cover your face the best that you can. The past is intertwining with the present and you do not enjoy it one bit. Fortunately, he sits away from you and doesn’t seem to acknowledge your presence in the room, but it’s just your luck that for the first time you’re seeing him in almost two years, he chooses to show up right here, right now.

“See that guy that just walked in?”

Jaemin nods with reluctance, subtly scanning said guy with his eyes, “Yeah, what about him?”

With a deep breath, you brace yourself for uncovering a part of your past that you’d rather keep ancient history, “Remember that fling I told you about from the vacation? That was him. And I never told you this, but we didn’t exactly end on the best of terms. I called it quits when I found out that he had a girlfriend.”

Another one of the vay-cay details that you kept to yourself. Technically, you did tell him about the fling, but it was nothing too specific aside from the fact that you were getting dicked down. You never told him about the way things abruptly ended, and you sure as hell never told him that you caught feelings for a cheater.

Jaemin’s face falls, and you’re not sure why. You think that he’s offended because you never told him about something so huge (and he is, but the two of you have bigger fish to fry at the moment so he decides it best to complain later).

Eyebrows furrowed, you ask, “What’s wrong?”

“Jaehyun is…” he pauses, and your lips part to ask how he knows his name until, “Jaehyun is my roommate.”

If you had the energy, you would sigh. Of course, Jaehyun also happens to move back in town and ultimately transfer back into your college for the second semester. You had to be a criminal in your past life, what else could you have possibly done to deserve something like this?

Taeyong walks over to your table, wearing a discontent frown, “Jaehyun’s here, do you want me to distract him so that you can leave without him noticing?”

“No way the blueberry head knew about this before me.” Ah, there it goes.

Taeyong glares, but he doesn’t say anything, instead locking his eyes on you to catch your response and his face softens when he does.

“Please,” you sigh in relief, “Thanks Tae, you’re a lifesaver.”

Taeyong smiles at the weight of your words, “It’s the least I could do. Now you two get out of here.”

It isn’t something that you need to be told twice, Taeyong goes to distract Jaehyun and you two bolt the fuck out of there. Though even out of sight, Jaehyun isn’t out of mind. In the beginning you knew it was nothing serious, Jaehyun had other girls that he fucked. But the fact that he was cheating on some poor, innocent girl was more then you could handle, and it would be selfish of you to risk getting caught up in that mess.

For a while, you and Jaemin ride in near silence. It’s your car, but he claims you aren’t in the right headspace to drive and you didn’t argue. You don’t feel the best at the moment.

“Is this a bad time to invite you to my roommate’s Summer Break Kick-off party this Friday,” Jaemin asks over the radio, his voice cutting through the SHINee song playing lowly.

“Kinda,” you snort. “Is he coming?”

“Probably, yeah. I mean, he was invited. But my roommate’s other house is pretty big it’s been forever since we last partied.”

You blink. Why does your roommate…

“Don’t question it. I don’t know either.”

You fight the urge to laugh. Instead, you weigh out the pros and cons. Technically, you and Jaemin could always find another place to party if you wanted to so bad, and even if the house was big, there’s still a fair chance of you running into the one man you dread ever seeing again. You aren’t too sure if that’s something that you’re ready to risk right now.

You sigh again, pressing your face against the car window. “I’ll think about it.”

You haven’t stepped foot in a place this expensive-looking since Yeri invited you on that little summer vacation to her stepdad’s beach house (two years ago.)

Jaemin somehow managed to convince you to show up by pinky promising to do a week’s worth of your assignments next semester, and you’d be a fool for turning that offer down. It isn’t clear from the outside, but academically Jaemin is sharp. So now, you’re searching for Jaemin in a sea full of red plastic cups. He was right, the house is humongous, and now you’re really beginning to question why someone with this kind of fortune at their fingertips lives with three presumably broke college students.

At least they’re playing SHINee. That way you can sing along to your favorite boy band while you simultaneously search for your best friend.

It might be harder for him to spot you. You chose to wear something dull, deciding against standing out too much just in case Jaehyun wanted confrontation, so looking for you is like searching for a needle in a haystack. You two could have just spent the night karaoking with Jaemin in your living room just like the good ‘ole days, for heavens sake.

Na Jaemin, when I find you, you groan. He doesn’t answer your calls or texts, and just for this you should make him do your homework for two weeks. Three if you bump into Jaehyun. You stop at an empty spot to catch your breath.

“God, what are these guys’ parents? The CEO’s of Samsung?” you mutter, to yourself.

“Aw, so close.”

Not expecting an actual answer, you jump and turn in the direction of the voice. You find a tall, handsome man smiling at you. His teeth are so white that it looks like he eats Colgate for breakfast.

“Kai, I’m the host of the party,” he grins, yet then his expression falters, “do I know you from somewhere?”

“I was thinking the same thing!” You laugh, analyzing his face. He does look a bit familiar.

You tell him your name, and the way he repeats it once more then blinks a few times concerns you a little. It’s not that you have a bad reputation, but did he know you from something bad?

His eyes widen. “You’re Johnny’s ex-girlfriend.”

That, you are. Back in high school you and Johnny dated for some time, broke up after a while since you drifted apart from one another, but agreed to stay friends so you’re both cool. You’re relieved that’s all, but you still don’t remember where you know Kai from, and you’re almost one-hundred percent sure it isn’t high school. You don’t even think you went two to the same high school.

“That’s me,” you confirm with a nod, “I still don’t know where I remember you from, though.”

If this were a cartoon, Kai would have a thought bubble above his head, and moments later it would transform into a lightbulb, “Are you friend’s with Yeri?” he guesses, and you nod, “she’s my step-sister. She probably told you about me.”

Oh. Well now the dots are connecting. Yeri did in fact tell you about him, mentioning that his family is the one her mom married into when explaining how filthily rich she became—because her brand new step-dad is indeed a CEO.

You make an O with your mouth, “Small world.”

“I know, right?” Kai, or as you know him from Yeri (also why you didn’t recognize him immediately), Jongin, laughs, “Care to dance?”

At that, you frown, “I’d love to, but I should really find Jaemin. He’s my best friend and we’re supposed to be spending time together because he just moved back in town recently.”

Kai looks a little sad by the rejection but handles it well, nodding in understanding, “Good luck. Last time I saw him he was over there,” he points, “losing a drinking game.”

That could mean nothing good. That meant wherever he was, Jaemin was more than likely going to be shitfaced by the end of the night. You sigh internally, almost wishing he’d go back to being the shy and introverted boy you knew in high school.

You met Jaemin in your sophomore year, at a party his friends forced him to go to, and you had a couple of mutual friends, but until then you two were nothing more than strangers. Speaking of which, that’s how you bonded, even though it was a fight getting him to say more than five words at a time. You were sure your friends Sicheng and Yuta had a thing for each other, whereas he hadn’t suspected a thing. So you made a bet, and only a couple minutes later, they were found making out against a wall. He owed you 50 bucks.

When Jaemin is still no where to be find, you’re ready to cave in to defeat. You feel like you’re in a maze, walking around in circles and it shows in the ache in your feet. You’re about to give up and turn around, until you walk into something, or someone, and all audible to you is the sound of splashing before someone yells shit, I’m sorry!

Oh, you’ll make sure they’re sorry. You’re not sure what you should focus on. How your top is now soaked, or how familiar their voice is. Until you look back up and see a walking, breathing and unfortunately talking, nightmare.

He calls out your name.

Like before, you turn and walk away.

He says it again, louder, and follows you.

“I don’t want to talk to you, Jaehyun.”

Still, he tails behind you like a lost puppy, despite you obviously trying to stay far, far away, “Can’t you hear me out? It’s been two years.”

“Two very peaceful years,” you stop dead in your tracks and finally turn to face him. It hurts you to look at his face, because the memories wash over you like waves, yet you do it anyways. You want to show him that you’re strong without him, not weakness and vulnerability, “and I told you two years ago that I want nothing to do with you.”

Jaehyun’s no good for you, you know that. You know that all he’s ever wanted to do is get inside your pants, that he’s never cared for you. So why are you tempted to hear him out?

No, you refuse, you will not let nostalgia win you over. That’s all it is. You miss what you had, but you don’t know if you miss him as a person.

“At least let me help you dry your shirt, it’s my fault that it’s ruined,” he tries again, but you’re hell-bent on making him feel as miserable as he did you.

“No.”

“Y/n—”

“No means no, Jaehyun,” another voice cuts in, and while it isn’t the one you’ve been looking for, you’re thankful nonetheless. Beside you stands Kai, tall, angry, and intimidating, “you gonna make her tell you to fuck off?”

Jaehyun glances at you, and you see the emotion in his eyes, but you don’t fall for them. Not anymore. He’s already caused your heart to feel enough pain that you can’t bother to try and carry the burden that is his own. So he gives up and walks off, finally leaving you alone.

And you let out an exhausted breath.

“Show’s over, mind your business,” Kai tells the audience you hadn’t even known formed, and not willing to risk going against him, everyone returns to their previous activity. He looks at you, and all the anger is washed with concern. “You okay?”

Are you okay? You don’t know anymore. Nostalgia is kicking your ass, and though you try not to think about him, you can’t help but reminisce.

“Yeah,” you say, but you’re not too sure. “Thanks. A lot.”

Kai shrugs, “No biggie. Do you think you and Yeri match sizes? You can use the bathroom in my bedroom to change because no one’s dumb enough to go in there.”

You sigh in relief. Chivalry isn’t dead. “Yes. Thank you.”

Kai leads you upstairs to Yeri’s room, or at least the one she stays in when she’s here, and let’s you choose a shirt. It isn’t an easy decision with Yeri being the epitome of fashion, but you pick quickly to spare Kai’s time, even though he tells you that he doesn’t mind. He then takes you to the bathroom in his room because according to him, Yeri’s one is under repair.

Even though Kai is guarding the door with his life and you know he wouldn’t just barge in there without your say-so, you lock the door. You meet your gaze in the mirror, eyeing yourself closely. Everyone is insecure sometimes, but after things ended between you and Jaehyun, you were extremely self-conscious for months.

To anyone who had never been in your shoes, it might’ve made more sense than anything for you to feel better about yourself knowing that even though Jaehyun had a girl, he kept coming back to you. Yet who’s to say you were the only one? To this day, you’re still convinced that the only reason he keeps trying to win you back is because him losing you plus you being the one to end it put a major dent in his ego.

You hate that he had that kind of power over you, to the point where he made you hate yourself. You hate that a man like him made you cry so many goddamn tears and now he expects you to dry his own.

Reminding yourself that Kai is waiting, you tear your gaze from your own before tears have the chance to spill, and wipe yourself dry so that you can put on your - or Yeri’s - shirt. Now that you think about it, it’s too cute to return. You might take it. She’s too rich to notice, and even if she does, she’s still rich. She can easily replace it.

Kai greets you with a smile as you step back inside his room, and you find yourself smiling back at him. He’s been treating you so kindly this whole time, and now that you think about it, you’ve never heard a single bad thing about the man. Yeri clearly doesn’t mention him very often, but it’s never been anything bad when she does, and even when Jaemin was telling you about his roommates, he described Kai as “the funny one that called his mom a lot.”

“Ready to join the party?”

And then you frown. “I don’t know.”

Kai quirks a brow, “Well don’t tell me you look this good just to not show yourself off.”

Amused, you scoff. Kai’s been smooth from the beginning, yet now he’s unabashedly flirting with you. “Are you flirting with me, Kim Jongin?”

Confusion spells itself out on his face. You have never once said his name tonight, and the one time you do, it’s his government. “How do you know my name?”

“Yeri,” you shrug, “but if you want me to just call you Kai then I understand.”

“Well, usually I reserve my real name for my close friends and family,” he grins, and God he looks devilishly handsome when he does, “but it sounds so nice on your tongue that I’ll make an exception.”

It’s painfully obvious that you don’t know how to react, eyes a little round and your lips parting, yet nothing coming from in between. It makes Jongin laugh.

“And yes, I was flirting with you,” he winks, “but anyways, if you really don’t wanna go back out there, which is totally fine, we can just chill in here. You seem like a nice person, and I’d like to get to know you.”

“Get to know me?” You quip, finding enough balance to play into his game after being knocked down by his charm briefly, “or my body?”

He arches a brow in amusement. “That feels like a trick question.”

You shrug. “Be honest. I might feel the same way.”

Maybe it’s a good thing that tonight didn’t go as planned. Kai’s had you since the moment he introduced himself, and it seems every five minutes he gets better.

“Well, I don’t see why I can’t multitask,” He purrs, taking your words as an invitation. An invitation that he was accepting.

You giggle. He eyes you gently, noticing the way you slowly inch closer to him, “I like you.”

It’s an initiation, turning the keys and putting the car in drive, and you want to see if Jongin will take the wheel. And it seems that to your fortune, he does.

“Guess it’s a good thing I like you, too.” Jongin chuckles, and he’s so close. You can feel his breath on your skin, tickling your neck, and it makes something in you crawl with arousal.

And the gap between you closes.

You already liked Kai last night, but you definitely like him this morning.

You woke up to the smell of pancakes and bacon, and not just any kind of pancakes, but chocolate chip pancakes, your favorite. If anything can make you like someone, it’s chocolate chip pancakes.

“How’d you know chocolate chip was my fave?” you giggle, not expecting a serious response, but after the whole scenario with him yesterday, you should have already known he would have one.

“Yerim’s told me about you, too, you know,” Jongin replies, “It wasn’t even too long ago, it was winter break. We were all staying at my dad’s house for a couple of days, and she invited you over one morning. Everyone was gone but me and her when I went downstairs, and I saw her making chocolate chip pancakes. It blew me, because she’s an avid hater of chocolate. Then she told me they were for her best friend, because you love them, and after last night I learned that the best friend in question happened to be you.”

You and Jongin learned a lot about one another last evening. After you had sex, you didn’t expect to hit it off like you did, yet you spent a great deal of the night talking on his silk sheets. For starters, he’s a wonderful man. Funny, polite, respectful, thoughtful, caring, and he has an amazing personality. The sole flaw you could find in him was that he likes Hawaiian pizza. What kind of sick person enjoys Hawaiian pizza?

And you fell asleep in his arms. It was perfect, almost too good to be true. You considered the possibility of a relationship with him, you enjoyed his company and he was shameless to admit that he enjoyed yours. And yet still, you couldn’t help but think of Jaehyun.

The way he had also made you feel the same way, all those years ago. How he never fucked you and then shoved you away, but he talked to you until the sun came up, or spooned you to sleep. It was ridiculous, and you can’t believe that one encounter with Jaehyun had you acting like a teenager in love for the first time again. Not to mention the encounter in question was horrible. Jaehyun isn’t good for you, but for some reason your heart seems to still want him.

“If you want know so bad, just ask.”

“What?” Kai blinks, unaware that you’ve noticed the way he looks at you, not just now but ever since that encounter with Jaehyun. The longing in his eyes to say something, yet he resisted.

“I know you’re curious about me and Jaehyun,” truth be told, it isn’t just for him, but for you. Maybe if you remind yourself of what Jaehyun’s done to you, hear it aloud, you’ll snap out of it and shake this weird feeling. “So go ahead. Ask.”

Jongin’s surprised at how well you read him, and you can only hope that he doesn’t read you just as well.

“I figured you didn’t want to talk about it, and I didn’t want to overstep my boundaries.” How utterly Kai of him. And honestly, he’s right. You don’t want to, but at this point it’s a need.

“It’s okay,” you assure.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“If you don’t want to talk about it, then that’s okay, you know. I understa—”

“Kim Jongin,” you say, and he pauses, a part of being because he still hasn’t gotten used to you calling him by his government name, yet he loves it when you do, “I am not about to beg you to ask me. I promise you, it’s alright.”

Jongin hesitates, but gives in reluctantly, “Okay, so… what happened for Jaehyun to be so intent on talking to you last night? Break-up?”

“Not really,” you say, trying to keep your voice level and flat. You weren’t the girl Jaehyun was in a relationship with, “It wasn’t a romantic relationship. Just sex, no strings attached.”

Jongin nods, “Ah, so a fling?”

“Mm-hm. I met him when Yeri invited her best friends to your dad’s beach house for a fun summer vacation during break. We hit it off well and it wasn’t much longer that he had me in his sheets. It really was fun, so we agreed to keep fucking around. And then some months later, I found out he had a girlfriend the whole time.”

He makes an understanding face, familiar with Yeri’s Pal-Cations (as she likes to call them.)

“Yerim didn’t tell you he was dating someone?”

“No one knew about us. He wanted to keep things secret,” you chuckle softly, “and that’s when I found out why.”

Silence falls over Jongin, and you sit there and let him ponder. Being able to say it all like this makes it seem so simple, and perhaps it should be. Jaehyun fucked up, and you owe him nothing. If he broke up with his girlfriend, maybe things would have been different, but he didn’t and that’s why he should leave you alone.

“Do you think he’s changed?” You shouldn’t ask. It doesn’t matter what Kai thinks, he doesn’t know Jaehyun like you do and he hasn’t known him for nearly as long. His opinion doesn’t matter.

Kai blinks. “I mean, you know what they say. Once a cheater, always a cheater.”

“But I’m asking for your opinion.”

You’ve never seen Kai so speechless. He’s always had something on the tip of his tongue, always. That’s when you consider that you’re probably dumping a shit ton of unwarranted info on him, especially since you had to practically coerce him into even asking you about Jaehyun. Before you have the chance to apologize, he answers.

“I don’t know him nearly as well as you probably do, but from what I’ve seen in the past 2 weeks, he’s nothing like some stupid, immature fuck boy. He carries himself well, cracks his jokes but he’s respectful and doesn’t push his limits, and I’ve never seen him with a girl,” Jongin says. “Come to think of it, he’s single. The boys discussed our dating situations and relationship statuses just so that we wouldn’t be surprised if we got up in the middle of the night and saw some stranger. Said he was single and wasn’t looking for sex.”

And you sigh in defeat, because the only thing that’s changed about Jaehyun according to that description is that he’s apparently single now and isn’t looking for sex.

Or maybe he was some stupid, immature fuckboy. You don’t know. And ever since you found out about her, you haven’t been sure if you’ve ever known him like you thought you did. You haven’t been sure about anything.

“Do you want him back?”

The questions catchs you off-guard. It isn’t exactly new, but you’ve never had anyone ask you this other than yourself. It’s all that you can think about. Do you really want him back? Or do you just miss what you had? What if it’s both?

“I don’t know,” you answer. And trust, you’ve been thinking about it since that whole ordeal at the café Monday. Even if you do, you shouldn’t. You don’t know Jaehyun’s motive, and there are plenty of other guys that can provide you everything he was giving you. One is literally looking you dead in the eye. He’s replaceable, you tell yourself. You don’t need him.

But that sure as hell has nothing to do with you wanting him.

“You don’t know?” Kai lifts his brow, “Or are you simply in denial?”

You feel like he’s your therapist, and the thought almost makes you laugh. Everything reminds you of Jaehyun. How sometimes, you’d play therapist for each other after you had sex, either directly afterwards or in the morning like now. It was so much more than sex, you think. To you, anyways. And that’s likely how you caught feelings.

Oh, dear god.

Even after two years, maybe those feelings you had for him still linger.

“I realized something,” you really don’t have to say anything, it’s written all over your face.

Jongin makes the conclusion, “You want him.”

Slowly, you nod. You think that you shouldn’t, but you do, and Jongin was right about you being in denial. You guess he really does read you just as well as you do him.

“I’m not gonna sit here and tell you what you should or shouldn’t do because it’s your choice to make at the end of the day, but let’s take everything into account,” Jongin starts, voice sterner than it’s been all morning, “I’m not saying age is an excuse, but he was eighteen. All eighteen-year-old boys are stupid. Take it from someone who’s been there. But he’s twenty-one now, and it’s been years. That’s plenty enough time for him to grow and change.”

You nod along. That’s true, and while you could never be too careful because who’s to say he’s changed, who’s to say he hasn’t?

Kai adds, “If you want to take the risk, take it. If you don’t, then don’t. He made an inexcusable mistake. But he’s human, and all humans make mistakes. You dont owe him anything, especially not forgiveness, but be a little open-minded.”

The decision is yours. You can hear Jaehyun out and try to salvage your relationship, or you can continue to shut him out. You don’t owe him a second chance, but god, you must admit that you’ve always secretly longed to give him one, just so that you could go back to what you had.

Whenever you contemplate giving him a second chance, you think about her. You try to put yourself in her shoes, wondering how she must’ve felt, if she ever knew that the man she loved was fucking around with another woman. Maybe that’s how they broke up. Days ago, the thought would have made you run further and further away from him. But now, it’s almost like you’re rooted in place, bumping into dead-ends.

If you were her, you’d be unforgiving. But you’re not her, you never will be her, and that makes you want to be a little more selfish.

That makes you want him.

“Thanks, Kai,” you say, truly grateful to have his unbiased opinion. Usually you wouldn’t trust people you met less than twenty-four hours ago with your personal business, but all the shit you and Kai exchanged last night makes you willing to permit an exception. And then, you feel bad because even after the kind things he’s done for you since last night, he’s still sitting here advising you on your complicated you-problems. “And I’m so sorry for dumping all my problems on you, you’ve been so sweet and the least I could do—”

“Hey, no worries. If you ever need to talk, I’m here,” Kai interjects, “and if you want me to do a bit of snooping around…”

You shake your head. “No way. You’ve already done enough for me, and I don’t want you to get caught up in my drama. I can handle it.”

“Sure, you can. But I don’t want a girl like you to wind up heartbroken, especially over a possible jackass, and at very least you should see if you can trust him before you, well, trust him,” As though he can sense you about to object, he adds, “No buts. I’m going to keep a few tabs on him and alert you if there’s anything suspicious.”

You sigh, and don’t argue because it’s obvious he isn’t changing his mind. You’re grateful.

You smile. “Thank you.”

“Of course. And if he breaks your heart, I’m here.”

You scoff, “Flirting with me again, Kim Jongin?”

“Oh, baby,” he growls, “Keep saying my name like that and I’ll make you forget he ever existed.”

Ten minutes ago, that would have been tempting. But now you know what you want, and you’re determined to have it.

Yeri thinks it’s a bad idea.

Taeyong thinks it’s terrible idea.

Jaemin thinks you’ve had better ideas, but he’s willing to cooperate nonetheless.

“I don’t get it,” Taeyong shakes his head, “That guy broke your heart.”

“He wasn’t trying to,” you mutter.

“And he still did, that’s the crazy part.”

“It was two years ago. To be fair, all of us were stupid at eighteen.”

“Not all of us were cheating on our partners with a girl we met on summer break, though,” Taeyong quips, incredulous that he’s even having this discussion with you. You’ve always been on the same page, what changed?

You groan, “God, Taeyong. Sure, he cheated. Duh, he was in the wrong. But it wasn’t me that he cheated on and it’s not like we were ever in a relationship. He couldn’t have known how I felt about him when I did everything in my power to hide my feelings. And what if he’s changed?”

“And what if he hasn’t?” Taeyong retorts quickly.

The silence in the room is deadly. Taeyong can’t believe that he’s having to talk some sense into you, all while your other two friends sit quietly observing your argument. Is he the only one thinking around here? Why aren’t they helping?

Then, Yeri speaks up from the other side of the room, “Instead of arguing, let’s just put Jaehyun to the test.”

“And how do you plan on going about that?” Taeyong grumbles.

“Letting her talk to him, dimwit, how else?” Yeri rolls her eyes, “I know that you probably think that allowing him within a ten-foot radius of her is going to break her heart, but you’re greatly underestimating my best friend’s strength. She isn’t stupid, she can identify red flags.”

“Ease up on the fighting words,” Jaemin chuckles, “but I dunno, Yeri’s right. The only way she’ll know if he’s changed is to see for herself. If she notices anything odd, she can give him the boot. It’s not rocket science.”

You glance at Taeyong. Truthfully, you don’t need his permission, and both of you know that. But it would be nice to feel validated by your best friends, especially the overprotective one.

Taeyong glances back at you, and his expression softens. He’s always had a soft spot for you, and it’s hard to tell you no. Plus, he doesn’t want to be the token villain when everyone else is telling you to go for it. To chase what you want.

And in all honesty, Taeyong wishes he could chase what he wants. But the last thing he is is selfish, so maybe now is the time he lets you go.

Finally, he groans, “Alright, fine. Whatever. Talk to Jaehyun, see if he’s really ready to commit. But if this guy breaks your heart, I’m going to quote-unquote accidentally spill the hottest coffee on his face, just to give him a taste of the fire that is hell, where he will burn for eternity.”

Jaemin shivers, having flashbacks to the first time he spoke to Taeyong, “You love a good coffee threat, don’t you? So many fighting words.”

Taeyong doesn’t reply, just glares at Jaemin sharply.

“Hostile, but I’m with him,” Yeri nods, “Mark my words, that man will die a slow, painful death if he makes one more mistake.”

“Yep!” Jaemin agrees, “Don’t worry, babes. We got your back.”

At that, you smile. Your friends are on your side. Now, here comes the real trouble.

Mustering the ability to talk to Jaehyun.

Fortunately, Yerim’s annual Pal-Cation was right around the corner, and would extend until the end of the week.

Last year, Jaehyun didn’t attend.

Correction: he wasn’t invited.

Yeri and Jaehyun haven’t been on amazing terms since she became aware of everything, which put a dent in their relationship. This year, she’s invited him in favor of playing Cupid.

You’re a little nervous, anxious about being in the same space as Jaehyun for more than three minutes after all these years. You’re scared and you’re not sure of what, because if Jaehyun’s really as changed as he implies he is, the result should be predictable.

Then again, you don’t really know Jaehyun’s reason for wanting to talk to you, and that makes you all the more panicked. Of course, he wants you to hear him out, but what does he want to come out of that? A second chance? At what?To you, your relationship was so much more than sex. But what if it wasn’t to him? What if he just wants to get inside your pants?

“Girl, please,” Jaemin scoffs, crashing against your hotel bed like he owns the place. He’s in comfortable awe, and probably wouldn’t think twice if someone told him the beds were made out of marshmallows, “you were defending his life choices like yesterday—god damn, these beds are soft—and now you’re having second thoughts? Since when do you back down from things?”

You throw a pillow at him, “I was not defending him!”

“I talked to him earlier, when he asked me if I was sure about wanting him here,” Yeri states, sitting on the seat in front of the mirror. “Told him that there’s no way in hell he’d be here right now if I didn’t want him to be. He laughed and promised me he wouldn’t do anything stupid, and I told him know, because if he does do something stupid it’s off with his motherfuckin’ head.”

Jaemin smiles, satisfied, “Yeah, that should do it. I’d be scared half to death, you could probably pay someone to kill him and no one would suspect a thing.”

“Enough about killing him,” you grimace, “I’m just, I dunno, nervous, I guess. What if he just wants to get in my pants?”

“Guess you better go found out, and tonight is the perfect opportunity. I reserved the pool, so we have the entire area to ourselves until midnight.”

“Yeah, and that wouldn’t be too bad anyways. When was the last time you got laid?” Jaemin adds.

You sneer and flip him off, “For your information, I got laid at that party Friday night when you left me for dead to go get drunk. And that’s why your ass was hungover. And Yeri, you never told me that your step-brother was so fucking hot.”

Yeri exclaims, “You slept with Jongin?”

“You slept with her brother?”

And that’s where you conclude that you’ve overshared, and it’s time for everyone to have some time to themselves, “Alright, everybody out,” you push and pull them both out, until they’re standing outside your door, “I’ll see you guys tonight.”

Then you shut the door, and lie on your bed, sighing with comfort. Jaemin’s right, the beds really are comfortable. You’re feeling drowsy already and decide to rest your eyes. There’s hours until it’s Pool Time.

Pool Time comes faster than you wished.

You’re antsy, but Yeri has SHINee’s Punch Drunk Love playing, so you feel more at ease. It also serves as a reminder that you’re going to need a drink or two to get through the night.

It doesn’t help that you had a dream about Jaehyun while you were trying to rest your eyes, about the night when you first you met him. You were at Yeri’s step-father’s beach house, and the dream was specifically when you made out in the middle of the pool. I’ll never let you drown, baby. You shake the memory away.

You glance around, and see everyone’s here. Yeri’s talking to her friend Mark who obviously has a crush on her, Jaemin’s engaging in conversation with Taeyong who for once doesn’t look like he wants to rip Jaemin’s head off, Yeri’s other friends are playing in the pool, and—Jaehyun.

Jaehyun’s seated at the bar, looking dead at you, which is exactly where you need to be but your lunch and your stomach seem to not be getting along suddenly. You tear your gaze, and glance back at Yeri. You need her help, one last push or words of encouragement, but you’re not selfish enough to interrupt Mark’s attempts at flirting with your friend and getting some.

Well fuck, you groan. You’re all alone this time, and deciding you look stupid standing there by yourself, you march to the bar and hoist yourself on the stool beside Jaehyun, ignoring the increasing speed of your heartbeat. It doesn’t help that this place only has two barstools.

“What can I get you, sweetheart?” The bartender asks you. She’s pretty, got long dark hair and a nice face. You wonder if Jaehyun flirting with her is the reason she’s been smiling so hard since before you sat down, trying to stifle a giggle.

And you frown at your own thoughts. Leave it to you to automatically assume the worst.

“No idea. Suprise me,” you sigh, and with a nod she gets to work.

It’s difficult, more like impossible to ignore Jaehyun’s presence beside you. He isn’t saying anything, isn’t doing anything as far as you can tell without looking at him, but the knowledge that he’s there has you on your toes.

The bartender brings back your drink, tells you to enjoy and you say thank you before having a taste. You need this before you dare say a word to him.

And then he dare speaks, “Hi.”

You can feel your heart racing and you don’t know why, but you do know that you don’t like it. There’s no reason to feel like this, you heard Jaehyun talk at the party. You somehow manage to chirp back quietly, “Hi.”

“Aren’t you gonna look at me?”

It feels like he’s challenging you, almost to say you’re too much of a pussy to look him dead in the face, and you know you’re more than likely making that up but Jaehyun’s the first person to know that you’re last person to back down from a challenge, so you do turn to look at him.

It takes everything in you to stay rational when you do. You get the chance to look at him, to really look at him, and you’re taken aback by his features. He looks the same, but different all at once, obviously a little older.

Beside you is no longer the teenage boy with the cute, high-pitched voice, but a man with a deep and matured sound to his voice. He’s smiling a little wildly at you. It’s the first time you’ve seen him smile in years.

You take a sip from your drink so that you don’t smile back and say, “I’m looking.”

“See something you like?”

“Nope,” you lie, as though you weren’t obvious checking him out seconds ago, “just you.”

“Aww, don’t be like that,” Jaehyun grins playfully, “smile a little, won’t you?”

“Let’s cut to the chase, Jaehyun,” you change the subject. You refuse to let his little games work on you. “Didn’t you want me to hear you out? Hop to it or I’m leaving.”

He blinks. “Here?”

Well no one can hear you other than the bartender, but it’s a personal issue that deserves the utmost privacy and it’s not like you’re willing to share your personal business with a stranger, so you agree to walk around the pool with him. Close enough so that you’re not bumping into walls, distant enough to not be overheard.

You glance at him, “So?”

Jaehyun sighs, “Rather than defending myself, I think I should apologize. For not telIing you I was in a relationship, for risking dragging you into drama, it was selfish. I was selfish.”

It was selfish. He couldn’t have been thinking of your feelings, or even her feelings.

“There’s no excuse for what I did, and I can’t imagine how belittled it made you feel. You don’t have to forgive me, and I know you’re probably gonna hate me forever for this and I don’t blame you. But I want you to know that I’m sorry,” he gives you those emotional eyes, the same dejected gleam in them, “Sincerely. And if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you…”

“Tell me why,” you want the answers that you’ve been searching for all these years. Not exactly closure, but you don’t want to live in doubt, wondering maybe you were never enough, and that’s why you were always the side piece.

“Why I did it?”

You nod, and he’s silent for a moment.

“I mean, I don’t know. I don’t know why eighteen-year-old me did the shit I did, but I know that I did it and I can’t take it back. I’ve looked back so many times and I still can’t fathom…” Jaehyun trails off, then starts shaking his head, “you know what? Maybe I do know why.”

Don’t cry, you tell yourself. You’re stronger than this. You’re blinking back tears, attempting to keep your voice level as you whisper, “Why then, Jaehyun?”

“It’s not the shocking, life-changing reason I always thought it would be,” he chuckles sadly, “it’s because I was stupid. And careless. I wasn’t thinking, but at the same time I thought I had the world at my feet, and I guess I did but then I…” Jaehyun stops to take a breath after he realizes he’s rambling. “But then I lost you. And that’s when I realized that this, the lying, the cheating, the going behind your backs—it was stupid.”

“It was stupid,” you agree, and he laughs a little more. “But let me ask you one more thing…” you say. He doesn’t reply, but his eyes tell you to go ahead. “Did you love her?” Or did you love me?

Jaehyun nods lazily. “At one point.”

You bite your lip, unsatisfied.

“Did you love me?”

That catches him off-guard. You almost expect him to stop walking the way he’s frozen, and you feel your stomach churning in regret.

“Nevermind, forget I asked that—”

“When you first left, I was unaffected,” Jaehyun interjects. “Like I said, I thought I had the world at my feet, so I thought you were replaceable. I tried replacing you. But it wasn’t the same, no matter how many times I tried, it was never, ever the same,” his eyes muse at you, “No one looked at me the way you did, no one talked to me all night and made me laugh like you did, no one ran circles through my mind like you, no one was like you. So I knew I needed you back, but by the time I realized you were already gone. And that’s when I knew I had fucked up.”

He adds, “So, yeah. I did love you. Maybe it was at the wrong time, maybe it was too late for me to love you, maybe I wasn’t supposed to, but I did and I don’t think I’ve ever stopped.”

Jaehyun’s thumb runs over your eyes, wiping a string of tears that you hadn’t even know you cried. He doesn’t say anything about it, just pulls you closer to his chest.

“What about you?” He asks.

“What about me?”

“Did you love me?”

Now it’s your turn to freeze, and then you almost laugh. Of course, you loved him. You were in love with him. Hopelessly.

“Can I be honest?”

Jaehyun nods. “Mm-hm. That’s what this is all about, right?”

You exhale a sharp breath, preparing to tell one of your deepest, darkest secrets to the one person that was never supposed to know, “When I told you the reason I wanted to end things was because of you cheating on her, that wasn’t the whole truth. It was part of it, and though I’m no homewrecker, there’s another reason. I was in love with you—hopelessly, helplessly, utterly—and I couldn’t stand the thought that you never felt the same, that I was just a plaything to you.”

“Y/n—”

“Let me finish,” you order, “I left to take care of me. I thought it would have been disrespectful towards myself to stay in that position, when from my understanding, I loved you yet you loved her,” you feel another trail of tears coming, and wipe them away before they have the chance to spill. “At that moment, when I found out you already had someone, I felt like I didn’t know you anymore. I thought that maybe you never really cared, and I was the only one that felt it.”

It, the love. The spark. The connection. The butterflies in your stomach when he held you close, or called you cute pet names. The emotion whenever he was deep inside you.

“It felt like I had given my heart to a stranger,” you laugh humorlessly, “because for all I knew, who’s to say I was the only one you were fucking behind her back? I felt so, so stupid. Like I was never enough. And when I first saw your face again after all these years, all of that hurt came back. But at the same time,” you look him in his eyes, “all my feelings for you came back, too.”

It’s silent for a moment, but it isn’t awkward. You’ve just confessed your feelings for one another, not only now, but for the you of two years ago. For the you of eighteen who never thought you’d ever have this chance.

And you can’t believe Jaehyun’s actually had feelings for you, too. It always seemed like some fairytale thing, but hearing one another out like responsible adults instead of immature teens changes things.

“Wow,” Jaehyun whispers in surprise, “Wow. I was such a fool. I made a simple thing so fucking complicated. Imagine where we’d be if I would have just broken up with her and realized my feelings sooner.”

Together. You’d be together, as one.

“Could’ve, would’ve, should’ve, didn’t,” you say lightheartedly, “There’s no use in worrying about that. You’ve apologized. And I forgive you.”

“You forgive me?” Jaehyun gawks. “Why? I thought you’d hate me forever or something.”

“I kinda still hate the you of two years ago, he’s an asshole,” you giggle, “but the you standing next to me right now, today, is a changed man who knows his mistake and won’t do that shit ever a-fucking-gain. Or else.”

Jaehyun snorts. “Of course not. I wouldn’t dare.”

You smile, “Good.”

“Good. So do we address our relationship too, or…”

“Later, please,” you groan. “Come sit by the water with me.”

Jaehyun agrees, and so now you’re sitting at the edge of the pool, your head resting on his shoulder.

“Is SHINee still your favorite band?” He asks.

“Yeah,” you mumble, heart warming at the fact that he even still remembers that.

Then he teases, “Do you still swoon over Lee Taemin?”

You give him a very, very icy glare, “Shut up. I’ll push you into the pool right now.”

“You wouldn’t,” Jaehyun challenges.

Wrong move, you smirk. You love a challenge.

So in one swift movement, you do push him into the pool, and the sound of him yelling and the water splashing is like music to your ears. You giggle, watching as he comes back up, hair heavy and soaked as it sticks to him like a second skin. You also take notice of his white t-shirt, or his abs through the soaked cotton. Six pack. Toned. Stupid dumb crazy hot. Damn, sometimes you forget why you kept coming back to him.

He sneers, unamused. “Not funny.”

“It’s a little funny,” you disagree with a smile.

“Oh yeah?” he says, “Look, Lee Taemin!”

You turn without fully processing his statement yet, “Wha—agh!”

In an even swifter motion, Jaehyun’s pulled your ankles, and now a distracted you falls into the pool with a splash. Not to mention, your bikini cover-up is still on. This, unfortunately, is karma. Inconvenience aside, you’re getting deja vu, a distant memory seeping back into your mind.

You whine, “Not fair.”

“It’s a little fair,” he mocks, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“You’re lucky I know how to swim,” you wringe out your hair, “You would have had an lawsuit against you if I didn’t.”

You wonder if he’s taken the hint, if he’s gonna say it. You remember that exact moment, being so close to his face and feeling so warm. I’d never let you drown, baby.

And like a rehearsed line, he says perfectly, “I’d never let you drown, baby.”

“You remember.” Your tone is like a question, but it’s a statement.

“I remember a lot of things about you,” Jaehyun states, and perfectly timed, the current song fades into your all-time personal favorite—SHINee’s 1 of 1. “For instance, is this still your favorite SHINee song?”

One glance in Yeri’s direction confirms your suspicion that this is all her doing, as you see her giggling at you, phone in hand. It was already suspicious of her to play SHINee when she’s an Ariana Grande girl, but now you definitely see her her crystal-clear intentions.

“Yeah,” you mutter, but as you turn back around you notice he’s definitely close enough to hear you. Your noses are almost touching, and you can feel your heart racing. You feel like a teenager in love all over again, blood pumping, your heart beating in your ears. Deja vu.

Jaehyun must be feeling it too, because he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

Yet again, you blush. “Sure.”

And on cue, his lips are against yours. Jaehyun’s still an amazing kisser, he feels gentle yet he’s so fierce, gripping your waist as your fingers tangle in his hair. You know for a fact he’d be even rougher if you weren’t inside of a pool.

His lips feel better than you remember, and then he bites your lip. You moan, lips parting and he darts his tongue in your mouth. You can taste his drink on his tongue, faint remnants of whatever he had in his cup.

Fuck, you forgot how high kissing him makes you feel. It’s like an addictive drug, and you can feel nothing but your heartbeat and his lips on yours. You don’t want him to stop.

And then, to your misfortune, he does stop. You whimper, not really taking notice of how out of breath you are as you’re overcome with greed.

“Why’d you stop?” You frown.

“You need to breathe, babe. You wanna almost drown in the pool like Taeyong?” He laughs.

Speaking of Taeyong, you check on him with your eyes. To your surprise, he’s still talking and laughing with Jaemin, the pair obviously hitting it off and super into one another. It makes you smile. That boy’s had a huge crush on you that you both know you can’t reciprocate for years, and it’s time he lets you go.

“Hello… Earth to y/n? You look like the cute puppy eyes emoji.”

Your eyes snap at Jaehyun, “Shut up,” you reply, “And kiss me.”

“Bossy,” Jaehyun teases, but he must like that about you, because moments later he’s kissing you again, even more passionately than before.

“Oh, c’mon!”

Yeri giggles, “Sorry, y/n. The majority rules!”

For the second day of your California vacation, Yeri’s decided to take everyone to an amusement park an hour out from the hotel. You asked her why she didn’t do Disney Land this year, but she said it was reserved for her first Bae-Cation.

You roll your eyes. What happened to chicks over dicks?

The point is, you wanted to separate into groups, considering it would be easier to keep up with everyone. However, everyone else wanted to do pairs, arguing that there was more freedom and it’d be easier to come towards a mutual decision instead of arguing over what to ride.

So everyone grabs their partners, and you’re shocked when you see Jaemin and Taeyong step beside one another. You’re incredulous. Jaemin’s just been abandoning you left and right ever since he came back.

“You two in love or some shit now?” You fold your arms, eyes pointing at them accusingly. “What happened to those coffee threats, Yong? I thought you said Jaem was annoying. And Jaemin? You said he was scary!”

Jaemin shrugs coolly. “He was, but then I realized something. Taeyong’s like an egg, he has a hard shell—” Taeyong glares, “—nevermind, he doesn’t like that comparison very much. Taeyong’s like a smore, hard on the outside yet warm and soft on the inside. Oh, and very deli—ow!”

Jaemin holds his stomach dramatically, looking at Taeyong who stands with a satisfied grin on his face. Perhaps, Taeyong still is a little scary.

“Jaem! Yong!”

“Ooh, that reminds me,” Jaemin eyes twinkle, “I think our ship name should be Jaeyong.”

Taeyong disagrees, “No way. It should be Taemin.”

“First of all, you two will never be Taemin,” you interject with a scowl. “Anyways, you two figure that out. I’ll go be with my partner.”

And you stomp away to spot Jaehyun waiting for you with a cheeky grin. You’re optionless, you suppose. Yeri’s with Mark again, Taeyong and Jaemin are obviously a thing now, Seulgi’s with Winter and Jennie’s with Nayeon.

It’s not even like last night ended poorly. Last night couldn’t have been better, you spent your time making out and drinking with Jaehyun in the pool until midnight. It was too good to be true, you felt like Cinderella, having to slip back into her normal life by the time the clock struck twelve.

Now though, you have to be alone with Jaehyun. Okay technically, you’ll be surrounded by hundreds of people, and depending on where you go your friends may or may not be accompanying you, though still. It isn’t that you don’t trust him, but isn’t it natural to feel uneasy?

Jaehyun calls, “C’mon, princess! Let’s go get hotdogs. I’m hungry.”

“We ate at the hotel,” you snort.

“So? That was an hour ago. Plus the time it took for us to get through that crazy ass line. If you’re not hungry, I’ll buy you a lemonade or something.”

A lemonade does sound good, you ponder. It’s summertime, and no amount of sunglasses and mosquito-repellent sunscreen is going to help you beat this heat. It’s ninety-something degrees.

“Fine,” you give in, and an eternity later (curse these never-ending lines) you’re sitting down at a bench, you sipping on your humongous cup of lemonade and Jaehyun eating a hotdog.

To be honest, you really didn’t need the largest size that they had. You were just testing his reaction for the fun of it, expecting to have a giggle or two, but he totally surprised you, buying it and insisting you should have it even after you told him that you were just playing.

The Jaehyun you knew three years ago was many things, and rich was not one of them.

“Let’s talk,” he says after discarding his hotdog in the bin. Oh of course, Jaehyun’s brain cannot function when he’s running low on food.

Playing dumb, you ask, “About what?”

“Us,” he answers simply.

“In the middle of an amusement park?”

“It’s important,” Jaehyun grins, “You don’t trust me.”

Perplexity is written all over your face. You trust Jaehyun on the basic level, you feel safe around him and in his embrace. But you’re not sure if you trust him with your heart just yet, and after everything he did, you have the right to be scared.

“And I understand why. I hurt you once, you’re scared I might do it again. So let’s start over,” he concludes, and you blink. “From scratch. Past aside. I want you to get to know me, and I wanna get to know you. I’m sure there’s plenty of things I don’t know about you now.”

I mean, you know the gist. You didn’t say that aloud, of course. Through a discussion last night, he still knows your favorite color and your undying love for pie and SHINee, especially Taemin, your birthday, your mom’s birthday, even your dog’s birthday—okay, maybe he knows too much. Or you overshared. Who knows.

And you still remember a lot of facts about him, but at the same time, there’s still so much you don’t know about one another.

“Right,” you agree, “So by starting over, you mean…”

“Completely,” he answers quick. “Let’s re-introduce ourselves.”

Your lips don’t quiver, drawn into a line. “You gotta be kidding.”

“I’m serious!” Jaehyun claims. “C’mon, I’ll even go first.”

“Jaehyun—”

“Aht, aht! You’re not supposed to know my name,” Jaehyun chides. “Hi, my name’s Jaehyun, I’m twenty-one, and I like Cigarettes After Sex. The band, I mean. I don’t smoke.”

You roll your eyes. There was no need for him to explain, because literally everybody knows Jaehyun likes Cigarettes After Sex, the same way everyone knows you like SHINee. But for the sake of placating him and getting this over with, you refuse to make any comments.

“This is so corny.”

“The longer you wait the longer it takes.”

Reluctantly you give in, but not without a groan. “Hi, Jaehyun. My name’s y/n, I’m also twenty-one, and I like SHINee.”

Jaehyun claps dramatically, “Bravo! Was that so hard?”

“Yes, actually.”

He giggles, tells you to stop being dramatic and you two begin your mission to ride every ride that you can within the span of a few hours. You get more snacks in between, sharing a container of butter-y delicious popcorn and double-dating some rides with the other pairs (which unfortunately happens to lead to you witnessing Mark throwing up in a bush).

Unfortunately, time flies by fast when you’re having fun, and when Yeri texts the Pal-Cation Pals group chat to meet up by the first popcorn stand in fifteen minutes, you know you have little time remaining, enough for one last ride.

The Ferris Wheel.

Last but not least, the Ferris Wheel. You and Jaehyun have been saving it for last, agreeing the full experience is at dark night, when the colorful lights illuminate the indigo sky.

“Let’s go!” You pull him into a cart, and he laughs at your enthusiasm.

When the ride starts, Jaehyun holds your hand and you rest your head on his shoulder. It feels nice and comfortable, and you quickly realize you miss having him like this. Close to you. And it’s silent for a moment. You and Jaehyun have always had these moments together, where you’re not talking one another’s ears off, but holding each other in warm silence. You have always valued the other’s company.

You watch as the world gets smaller underneath your feet, how the Ferris wheel lights twinkle in vibrant colors, and shine on its surroundings. You see how the other rides glow in the dark, appearing so close yet so far away.

It’s beautiful. Your eyes flare different colors—red, blue, pink, green—as you gawk in wonder. If you could, you’d stay like this forever, watching this astonishing sight with Jaehyun at your side.

“You look pretty in the light,” Jaehyun marvels, snapping you out of your daze. The butterflies and their flapping wings come back, and he’s always been able to make you feel like this so easily.

Warmth fills your cheeks, and you turn around so that he doesn’t notice. “Don’t I always? Or are you saying I only look pretty in the light?”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes, “You’re still impossible. I’m trying to flirt with you.”

“Then do so,” you smile. “Keep telling me about how pretty I am.”

“Look at me,” Jaehyun whispers, but it’s loud and clear to you. Slowly, you do look at him, noticing the way his lips curl into a soft grin, and how the purple light casts on his gorgeous skin and features. “Your lips are pretty, too.”

Next, he’ll call your bones pretty and you’ll still feel your face flush with heat.

Jaehyun kissed you for hours last night, but when his lips collide with yours again you know that you’ll never get used to the feeling. Your fingers card through his hair while his gravitate towards your skin, cold hands sending a shiver down your spine as they mesh with the evening warmth.

You bite at his lip this time, wallowing in the sound of his moan as it tumbles from between his parted lips. He can feel you smiling, the corners of your lips spreading apart as you stifle a laugh.

It feels like fire consumes you, like you’re melting, melting into his touch, like candle wax as his fingertips trace your skin. Like a bomb’s ignited inside you, like you’re exploding, and the more you feel him the more you desire him. The more you crave him, the more your body yearns for him.

You know you have him when you move for his neck, marking a trail of red lipstick stains that look purple in the light. He takes it as a challenge, retaliating with a bite at your neck that makes you sigh in pleasure, and this is definitely why you get along so well—you’re compatible.

“When we get back,” you gasp, ignoring the complacent look he casts at you, “Meet me in my room.”

“What about the others?”

“They saw us making out in the pool, Jaehyun, literally nobody cares,” you roll your eyes. “No more sneaking around shit, right?”

He smiles, “Right. Can’t anyways, your lipstick is all over my throat.”

You giggle, and bring him back in for another kiss as the ride begins to slow to an end.

The next couple of days are equally eventful, yet fly by far too quickly for your liking. You hit the beach and unfortunately witness a woman being stung by a jelly fish, visit some museums, the zoo, and even hike near the Hollywood sign. You also make sure to spend Yeri’s money on some souvenirs, and Jaehyun buys you matching necklaces. You have his J, he has your first initial.

Today is Saturday—already. Tomorrow you will return home, and you’re not sure if you’re ready or not. You sigh as you scroll through your camera roll. You’ve had so much fun this week, there’s the pictures of Mark’s scared face on the roller coaster, Taeyong buried alive into the sand, Yeri and the girls trying on humongous sun glasses at the mall, and the video of Jaemin and Jaehyun arm-wrestling to determine who’s the better Jae to prove it (Jaehyun won).

Like a normal Saturday, today’s the one chill day. The whole week has been chaotic in a fun way, but Yeri had nothing else planned, so she told everyone to take a day to wind down and feel free to venture out to wrap up the vacation.

Which leads you to now.

Jaehyun and you agreed to visit the park, just walking around and talking, and perhaps doing some making out in between. You’ve been doing that a lot lately, and you’re pretty sure you’re addicted. It’s like there’s crack in his lips that cannot simply be fixed with chapstick.

“It’s hot,” you complain.

Jaehyun snorts. “We’re in California, babe. Imagine Yeri took us to Florida.”

You wince. You’re barely beating the Californian heat, there’s no way you’ll survive down south in Florida. It doesn’t even snow there.

“I thought you were gonna say some fake-romantic shit, like I’ll reach into the sky and throw the sun into the freezer, princess, just say the word,” you mimick his voice exaggeratedly.

Jaehyun rolls his eyes, but laughs nonetheless, “No can do, princess,” he teases, “but I can get us some ice cream from that stand over there. Stay put, I’ll be right back.”

“Wait!” You shout. “You even know what I want?”

He says your favorite flavor, and even your preferred container to consume it in, “Right?”

A smile spreads on your lips, and your heart flutters. He remembers. “Right.”

Jaehyun shoots you a smile then jogs over to the ice cream stand, pulling his wallet from his pockets. You gotta remember to ask him where he’s getting all this money from, this man could be a drug dealer for all you know.

Nonetheless, you sit at a nearby bench and pull out your phone. Nothing beats checking up on your Animal Crossing island while you wait.

You notice the presence of someone sitting beside you but don’t bat an eye, knowing without looking that it isn’t Jaehyun. And who are you to shoo away a stranger if they want to rest their feet?

“You must be y/n,” hearing your name, your eyes snap to the side instinctively.

And that’s when you realize that this stranger may not be as unknown as you initially thought.

Your eyes widen, “You…”

“I am, Jaehyun’s ex-girlfriend,” she, Victoria announces proudly, like it’s some achievement to be clipped onto the fridge.

You never met her, but you’ll never forget her name, or her face for that matter. It’s kind of stupid, how you found out. You were on Instagram, and you saw Jaehyun’s account in the replies of Yeri’s post. You clicked his profile, because you had never exchanged accounts before, and you quickly saw why.

He didn’t post her often, amongst all the flaunting images of himself, but when he did he made it crystal clear that she was his girlfriend, and what sole other woman would he continuously post onto his page?

“What are you doing here?” You ask, an obviously bitter edge to your voice. It isn’t she that you should be bitter towards, but you can’t help but feel slightly defensive.

“Relax, darling, I’m not stalking you on whatever summer vacation he’s had the courtesy to whisk you away on,” Victoria giggles. Of course not, that would be obsessive. “It’s actually a coincidence to see you, but since we’re here, let’s talk.”

Disinterested, you reply, “There’s nothing for you and I to discuss.”

“Of course, there is! You were fucking with him while he was with me, right?” she gives you a picture-perfect smile that makes you want to grit your teeth, yet you compose yourself. She sighs, “You know that, and yet you’re like what, dating him now? I’m telling you now, once a cheater, always a cheater. You might think he loves you now, but I promise you, he’ll stab you in the back the moment you aren’t looking.”

Victoria misjudges your silence as you giving her the go-ahead to continue, “I know that you know, and I know you’re trying to convince yourself that he’s changed, but he’s still the same old bastard he was three years ago. I mean just look at him, he’s even flirting with that lady now.”

With furrowed brows, you turn in Jaehyun’s direction, eyes finding that he actually is flirting with the ice cream lady. You can’t believe your eyes. Really? The fucking ice cream woman? He isn’t trying to be subtle with it, either.

She tilts her head as she speaks in your ear, “See? He doesn’t give a fuck. Not about you, not about her, not about any of us. You’re just yet another notch in his belt.”

And suddenly, all those doubts come back, the ones that you had pushed away and replaced with your growing feelings for him. Yet now that they’re existing within the same space, it’s even more terrifying, it’s exactly what you feared.

What if Jaehyun never really cared? What if all this is just some big act? What if he’s just been playing with your emotions this entire time? What if you don’t really know Jaehyun like you thought?

You want him, but what if he doesn’t really want you?

Jaehyun walks over, seemingly not noticing his ex-girlfriend’s presence, “I got the ice cream. Who’s th—Victoria?”

“Hello, Jaehyun,” she waves, offering him a smile. “We were just talking about you.”

“What the fuck did you tell her?” Jaehyun scowls, taking notice of your silence and the empty, unhappy gaze you shoot him. You don’t even smile, hardly even blink.

Victoria shrugs. “Nothing she doesn’t already know.”

“I’m walking back to the hotel,” you announce, sliding your phone back into your pocket and peeling yourself off of the bench.

“Wait!”

He calls out your name.

For the third time, you turn and walk away.

This time, though, he’s not letting you walk away. Not without putting up a fight first.

“Why are we doing this again?” Jaehyun yells. “Why? Did I do something? We can just talk this out, you know. What happened to no more secrets?”

You retort, “You fucking tell me, Jaehyun! How am I supposed to know that you don’t have secrets?”

“The same goddamn way I know you don’t have any! Trust!” And the realization hits him hard. He knows that it’s only been some days, but what could Victoria have said to make you back out so hastily? “Is that what it is? You don’t trust me?”

Tears sting your eyes. “Trust you? You want me to trust you? With you being the kind of person you are? You’re out of luck.”

That burned Jaehyun. After all of the bonding you’ve done lately, he would’ve thought that you would trust him a little more, but he sees clearly now. He sees that he’s done all he can do, and now it’s time for you to do your part.

“What kind of person am I, y/n?” He asks coldly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You spit, “You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah?” Jaehyun laughs tonelessly, “Well frankly I think you’re an asshole, too. So when you’re ready to be assholes together, let me know.”

And this time, Jaehyun’s the one that walks away. This time, you understand his pain, as you have those tear-stung eyes and that quivering voice. That empty feeling inside, the pang in your heart. The way it’s killing you inside, but you don’t have it in you to move, to chase him. All you can do for now is let it eat at you slowly.

Maybe Victoria was wrong. Maybe you’re planting the knife in your own back.

Sunday comes slowly, and you’re glad you didn’t ride the same van as Jaehyun. You still have to deal with the curious stares your friends shoot you, but it’s better than confronting your emotions, or at least you think it is.

You’re not ready yet.

When you get home, the first time you do is order Panda Express via Uber Eats so that you don’t starve as you rot in your room. The next thing you do is flop against your bed and and sob.

A few days go by like this, in pure brutal agony. You drowning in your thoughts, the maybes and the what if’s. You feel like a teenage girl experiencing her first break-up, lost and confused and unsure of how to deal with the hurt. It’s no one’s fault but yours though, and it’s your job to fix it or forever hold your peace.

Love is hard. You know that. You accept that. If you couldn’t, then it would be wrong of you to try be in a real relationship. But loving, as a verb, is easy. Too easy. So easy, to the point where sometimes, you don’t realize you’re doing it until it’s too late. What’s harder is accepting the fact that love isn’t a choice, but a feeling. If it was, you would have chosen to stop loving Jaehyun years ago. You would have chosen to fall in love with Taeyong, or maybe even Kai.

But your heart chose Jung Jaehyun, and it must have a mind of it’s own, because no matter how much you tell it to let go, it doesn’t listen.

That’s why as the days go by, they’re slow and empty. Because Jaehyun’s not there. Not with you. And a little voice in the back of your head is saying he’s with another girl, but your heart is telling you to have faith. You are severely conflicted.

Just when you think you might just spend the rest of your life rotting here, you’re quickly proven wrong by the dedication and genuine care and concern of your best friends.

“Hey, bitch,” Jaemin strolls in casually, as though this is his room, “New guy already?”

“What?”

“Some guy opened the door,” he replies, flopping against your bean-bag cough.

You blink, gears turning in your mind as you try to decipher what man could possibly be inside of your house—oh. You roll your eyes, “That’s my roommate’s boyfriend, you dumbass.”

“Oh,” Jaemin mumbles, then his eyes twinkle as he makes a move for your desk, “Ooh, Panda Express.”

Suddenly, Yeri storms inside your bedroom, flickering on the lights inside your very much dim and deprived of life, sunshine and happiness room, chanting vigorously the lyrics to Ariana Grande and Nicki Minaj’s The Light is Coming, “The light is coming to give back everything the darkness stole!”

You groan, yanking the sheets and comforter over your face to block out the light like a vampire, “You guys, please leave me alone.”

“Nope,” says Taeyong, who follows suit after your other friends, venturing into your room. You fight, you tugging the covers towards you while he attempts at pulling them off. It’s a quick battle which you lose, and you soon accept defeat. “You’ve been suffering in silence—and darkness—for far too long. So, fess up. What did that punk do? Do I need to prepare the coffee?”

You sigh, Saturday seeping back into your memory. “He didn’t do anything.”

Jaemin blinks. “What do you mean? Why else have you been sulking in your bedroom for the past four days like a divorced man who’s ex-wife took the kids and the TV? Shit, all you’re missing is a bar and some alcohol at this point.”

You roll your eyes, “I mean, I was the one that fucked up this time.”

“What?”

“What?”

“What?”

They all gasp involuntarily, and if you had it in you, you would roll your eyes at the chorus of what’s.

That day rewinds in your head, how it was so warm then so cold within a matter of moments. Your eyes water as you recall everything that happened, Victoria, your public altercation, walking back to the hotel alone while it felt like there was a rain cloud above your head, despite the piping hot conditions outdoors.

It isn’t like you don’t want to let Jaehyun in. You do, but you’re terrified of granting him that permission, of giving him your heart when he’s broken it before. But this way, you’re only breaking your heart more, and breaking his, too.

“I did something stupid. I assumed the worst when I shouldn’t have, and then I got scared. So I ran,” you want to bury yourself underneath the covers and sink into the earth to be forgotten, but you have to deal with your mistakes. “And I broke his heart. Now I need to fix it, but I don’t fucking know how.”

Yeri thinks you’re dumb.

Taeyong thinks you’re stupid.

Jaemin thinks you’re out of your fucking mind and an absolute fool for letting your thoughts destroy you, but he’ll do whatever he can to help.

“Talk to him, duh,” Yeri says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and it is, but easier said than done.

“How? I bet he doesn’t even want to see my face.”

“Are you kidding?” Jaemin gawks. “He’s been moping around the apartment like literally all week, and me and Jongin haven’t said anything because we thought it was his fault! He also has divorced man syndrome!”

Oh. You feel extra stupid now, and you can’t believe you let Victoria get in your head. Collapsing onto your pillow, you groan, “I really am an asshole.”

“Maybe, yeah,” Taeyong agrees, “but so is he, you guys are a match made in heaven.”

“Or hell,” Jaemin chimes in.

Taeyong glares. “With that being said—and I mean this in the friendliest way possible—get your head out of your ass and go talk to him.”

And you smile softly at that. If Taeyong’s giving you the push, you know that everyone’s right and you need to do something. Now.

You nod and whip out your phone with a sigh, opening iMessage. Can we talk?

(Delivered.)

(Read.)

Sure.

Antsy, you’re fidgeting. Your anxiety is spiking and you can feel your heartbeat directly in your eardrums, but this time your fears won’t scare you off. You wait for Jaehyun, feet tapping against the ground restlessly, until you see him nearing.

He walks over to your side, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets and you feel your heart wrenching a little when you notice that he doesn’t give you his wild grin he usually shoots whenever he sees you. His face is inscrutable, and you bite back the urge to run, because you know now that no matter how fast you run, you’ll never be able to hide from your feelings.

“Hey,” your voice is giving up on you, but you refuse to let it. Get a grip.

“Hey,” Jaehyun whispers back. His eyes are dark and empty, and that’s how you know you cut him deep. There’s always a gleam to his eyes, whether sad or blissful.

You can do this, you tell yourself. You’ve talked to him about much worse before, this should be nothing. But still, it’s never been quite like this. You’ve never made this bad of a mistake.

“About Saturday,” you begin, still fidgeting but managing to look at him, “I’m sorry. I jumped to conclusions instead of asking you, instead of trusting you, and I let Victoria get in my head—”

“Yeah, what the hell was that about?” Jaehyun interjects. “Sorry for interrupting you, but I’m still confused. Did I do something?”

“She pointed out that you were flirting with the ice cream lady. What was that?”

Jaehyun blinks, processing your statement, and when he does he begins shaking his head, “Seriously? You’re telling me this is all over the fucking ice cream? I was only flirting with her to get free ice cream! You know they was trying to charge me fifteen dollars for 4 scoops?”

“It’s not just that!” You exclaim. “Like, yeah, that triggered it, but—fuck, Jaehyun, I was scared, I was so fucking scared. I was overthinking, and all my doubts and fears came back, that what if you never cared, what if you don’t want me like I want you, what if I don’t know you like I think I do? I was scared to trust you, scared that I love you because I don’t want to lose you again—”

If Jaehyun was a dog, his ears would perk up. “You love me?”

“Yes,” you answer boldly. “I love you, Jaehyun. I’m in love with you, and up until now that scared me half to death, because I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to know that you love me, too,” and especially enough to stay. “But now I know. I trust you, Jaehyun. I love you, I want you, and I’m gonna be honest, I’m still a little scared. But that’s what love is, trusting someone to not break your heart. It’s a risk I’m ready to take for you.”

Jaehyun is silently stunned. He doesn’t have much to say, taken aback by your confession and the fact this actually happening. “You mean that?”

You nod, smiling. “Every word.”

In seconds, Jaehyun has you pinned to the wall, his lips against yours. God, you missed this feeling. The feeling of his plush lips against yours, his hands on your body. You miss kissing him irresistibly, every hour of every day, for moments at a time until you were breathless.

Jaehyun seems to have missed it just as much, kissing you with a passion—hungrily; greedily. He kisses you like he can’t have enough, like his lips have an insatiable hunger.

And you can’t believe you’re making out with him behind your apartment, but you’re willing to try new things for him.

Jaehyun taps your thighs, and by now you know that that meets to jump, so you do, shrieking a little, yet he doesn’t let you fall. “I got you,” he whispers in between kisses, breath tickling your skin, “and I won’t ever let you go.”

It’s been five days. You’ve been trying not to think too hard about the label thing, maybe Jaehyun is planning something, he wouldn’t just forget to ask you to be his girlfriend.

You’re walking back to your apartment when it happens.

“Excuse me,” a stranger with an oddly familiar voice calls at to you, and when you whirl around, the last person to see is…

“Taemin?” You nearly scream. He points his index finger to his lips, gesturing for you to be quiet, which makes sense because you’re in public but there’s literally no way the man standing before you is the Lee Taemin. You’re dreaming.

You even pinch yourself, much to his amusement, and come to the realization that this is very much real. You could faint. Taemin? Lee Taemin? From SHINee? There’s simply no way.

“I believe this is for you,” Taemin holds in his hands your all-time favorite SHINee album, The Misconception Of Us. You take it, staring at the album in disbelief. You’re gawking. “And one last thing. Come with me, please?”

Okay, what the hell. He has to be trying to kidnap you or something, it’s perfect bait. Who wouldn’t agree to follow their favorite artist after they randomly pop up behind you and offer you your favorite album for free? You’re lucky it isn’t some kidnapping scheme, because you ultimately end up following him despite your doubts.

He takes you to the cafe, which, to your surprise is empty. At least you think it is, until Jaehyun slips out of hiding, walking up to you with a smile.

“Jaehyun,” you can’t help smile back, “What the?”

“Flip it over,” he says, gesturing towards the album, and curiously, you obey. To the back is attached a sticky note that says, To my 1 of 1 girl, will you be my girlfriend? It’s cheesy, but it has you smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

“Yes!” Instantly, you crash into his arms. “Yes, yes, yesyes yes—” he has to cut you off with his lips, and you melt into kiss.

You pull away the second you hear the intro to your favorite song, 1 of 1, and look onto the cafe stage (yes, the cafe has a stage for Friday through Saturday night performances) to see Taemin beginning to sing and cover the other members parts.

You’re mind-blown. A part of you is still convinced that this is a dream, because how the fuck did Jaehyun get a man as busy as Lee Taemin to do this? You forgot to ask him who he works for, but do drug dealers have Lee Taemin money?

“How did you—”

“Shh,” Jaehyun pecks your lips, “Taemin’s singing.”

You roll your eyes, yet giggle. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Jaehyun engulfs you in a warm, comfortable hug, “And only you.”

When he says it, you trust him. You believe him. Because the Jung Jaehyun you know and love today is a man of his word, and that means you get to love him with no fears, and no worries.

Love is a challenge. And in this moment and the next, it’s safe to say you’ve won.

[breadbrobin]

campfire games

luke castellan x reader - percy jackson and the olympians

[established relationship, fem!daughter of ares reader]

summary: bets are fun, until they aren’t. you’re fine though. luke knows you’re an absolute badass.

warning: pushy male behaviour, suggestive comments, swearing, bets, threats, assault (physical), sexual harassment.

word count: 1.6k

(help i’m writing too many of these but this is the only other good one also feel free to leave requests yall i’m on summer break i have so much time and need something to do 🤩🤩)

(also i am still in love with luke castellan thank you very much I CAN FIX HIM PLSSSS)

(also very sorry to anyone named andrew it was the first name i thought of)

——————————————————

there wasn’t much that your siblings in the ares cabin liked more than winning capture the flag, but watching you tear down another boys’ ego was definitely one of those few things.

campfires were great for many reasons. singing, marshmallows, games—and bets. when chiron and mr d. turned in for the night early, something that rarely happened, the bets would come out. guys would try and talk to you, your siblings would intercept them, find out what they wanted, then place bets among themselves and with other campers as to how long it would take you to tear them down a few notches, or, on occasion, tear them a new one.

clarisse patted your shoulder as two of your brothers talked to another camper. “incoming.”

“details?” you picked at the chipped red polish of your fingernails.

“son of apollo. been here for about two months. andrew. something about wanting to go on a date with you and thinking you’re prettier than the aphrodite girls.” she rolled her eyes. “he tried it on with me before and doesn’t like taking no for an answer, so break his spirit completely. or, you know, his bones.”

you saluted her teasingly. “yes, ma’am. you can count on me, sergeant.”

she patted your shoulder again with a joking grin. “good on you, private. godspeed.”

with that, she left you sitting alone.

well, not really alone.

luke castellan had somehow ended up as your bodyguard in all of these cases. probably something to do with the fact that you’d been dating in secret for the last three months. you weren’t a huge fan of keeping your relationship a secret, but when you’d told clarisse, she told you that her and your other siblings wanted to keep making easy money, and betting on me was the best way to do that. since everyone thought you and luke hated each other anyway, it was easy enough to keep it up, but as your mocking remarks turned to teasing, then to flirting, it was getting more and more difficult. and as he was getting more attractive each day, it was getting harder not to kiss him in front of everyone at camp.

you swivelled in your seat to look up at him. he was sitting three rows back, almost hidden in the darkness, a distinctly put out look on his face.

“you hear that?” you asked with raised eyebrows and a grin on your face. “he thinks i’m prettier than the aphrodite girls. when have you ever said that?”

“i told you you’re prettier than a model one time and you punched me,” he said dryly. “and then i said you look like a goddess while fighting and you punched me again.”

“in my defence, i did hate you at the time.” you shrugged. “got my back?”

“always.” he said seriously.

you grinned and winked at him as you turned around, waiting for the newest idiot to come annoy you.

luke had, once upon a time, been one of those idiots in your mind. he irritated you to no end. he was better than you at sword fighting, so you bested him at everything else. he was more popular than you, so you became one of the most well-liked people at camp. all of your attempts to break him down, however, only made him fall in love with you. now, there you were, wishing you could be sitting beside him instead of waiting for some loser to come annoy you to death.

“y/n, hey.” andrew said, sitting next to you, probably a little too close.

you looked over at him. “andrew, right?”

he nodded, his smile widening as you knew his name.

you sat up straighter and scrutinised him, looking him up and down. “yeah, you look like an andrew.”

you heard luke hide a laugh in his cup behind you.

andrew’s face fell a little, but he regained it quickly. “heard you were one of the best fighters in camp.”

“i am.”

“that’s pretty cool. i mean, i can help you become the best if you want.”

“no, i think i’m okay.”

“come on, i mean, everyone needs to improve. even the self-proclaimed best. bet i’m better at archery than you at least.”

you looked over at his smirk and had to stop yourself from smirking too. this would be too easy. “no. thanks, though. i’m good on my own. one of the best, remember.”

“you could be better. we should have a little challenge. a game.”

“i only play games with people i like.”

“you could like me.” he leaned a little closer. you leaned away slightly. “i bet i could make you like me.”

you had to stop yourself from laughing. “yeah, i don’t think so, buddy.”

‘buddy’ was usually all it took to break a man’s ego. you’d used it on luke many times during unusually flirtatious sparring, back when you still pretended to hate his guts. it didn’t work on him anymore, but it usually worked perfectly on everyone else.

andrew didn’t falter. “i bet i could. give me a chance. let me take on a date. show you a good time.”

“no, thanks,” you said calmly. your siblings were watching intently. clarisse looked ready to step in if you needed it. you wondered what he’d said or done to her to put her on edge. then you realised it wasn’t what he’d done to her. it was what he was about to do to you.

his hand was on your thigh, gripping onto the bare skin by the hem of your shorts.

his hand was on your thigh.

gross.

you looked up at him, eyes sharp. you could hear luke shifting slightly behind you. “what are you doing?” you voice was deathly calm.

“showing you that i can show you a good time, princess.” his voice oozed honey—sickly sweet and sticky, like a fly trap. good thing you hated honey.

“how about i show you how many bones there are in the hand? by breaking every single one.” your voice was equally as saccharine sweet, but your eyes were glaring daggers into his and your jaw was set tight.

he just shifted his hand higher. you tried to push him off but he was strong. annoyingly strong.

he tutted. “come on, sweetheart. you’re gonna make a scene.”

you finally managed to peel his hand off your skin. “i’ll make a scene, alright. get off me and leave me alone. and while you’re at it, leave my sister alone too.”

he raised his hands, a sickening, sleazy smirk on his face. “i was just being nice, princess. you and your sister need to relax. you especially. i can help you relax.”

“oh, i’d love that. you know how i relax?” you tilted your head mockingly, eyes hard. “i punch my enemies in the face.”

he laughed. “you’re cute. now, come on. it’s not like you’ve got anything going for yourself. i mean, you’re hot, sure, but no guys ever gonna look at you when they realise how much of a bitch you are. not like i will.”

you rolled your eyes and stood up. it was time to go and sit by luke. it grated at you, but if he wouldn’t listen to you, maybe he’d listen to another guy.

he didn’t let you leave. his hand gripped your wrist and pulled you back to him as he stood up too. you were chest to chest with him. he towered over you, at least six inches taller. you stepped back, but he pulled you in by your waist and laughed.

“look at how good we look together,” he smirked. “i could show you—“

you punched him in the stomach. he doubled over, finally letting you go, so you kneed his diaphragm. he gasped for air as you stepped back. your friend chris rodriguez whistled appreciatively.

“touch me, or anyone here, ever again and i won’t just hurt you.” you hissed at him. “i’ll beat your ass, then i’ll drag you past the boundary and leave you for the monsters. got it?”

he nodded, still hunched over.

“good boy,” you grit out.

“fucking bitch,” he grunted.

your eyes darkened, but you didn’t do anything. your siblings were right behind him, all ready to drag him away. “good luck walking tomorrow, andrew.”

“good luck finding a guy stupid enough to fuck you,” he scorned.

you laughed. “hey, luke?”

“yeah, babe?” he stepped down beside you, his hand settling on your hip and pulling you gently into his side. andrew faltered at the sight. he probably hadn’t even realised luke was up there.

“are you stupid enough to fuck me?” you asked with raised eyebrows.

he looked like he was trying not to laugh. “oh, i’m way past stupid.”

you didn’t care about any of your sibling’s bets anymore. you didn’t care that people thought you hated each other. you especially didn’t care that everyone was watching. you kissed him. and in front of the whole camp, he kissed you back.

your siblings groaned in disappointment, knowing their betting days were over, but you didn’t care. you smiled the stupidest smile ever as you pulled away, feeling like you’d just had your first kiss all over again.

“what?” he asked quietly.

“nothing.” you shook your head. “just glad we don’t have to hide anymore.”

after months of kissing behind buildings, pretending to fight in public and avoiding each other so people wouldn’t find out, it felt honestly freeing to kiss him in the open.

he kissed you again as your siblings dragged andrew away. “and all it took was an asshole.”

“thanks for not stepping in,” you said. “i had it handled.”

“oh, i know you did. i was more than happy to watch you destroy his ego.”

“good, because if you had stepped in—“

“i’d be going home in an ambulance?” he smiled.

“no, you’d be going home in a hearse.”

“ah, my bad.”

as the campfire kept burning, you sat down with luke. your legs were pressed against his and his arm was around your waist. there wasn’t much that you liked more than tearing boy’s egos down, but being with luke castellan was definitely one of those few things.

[rafedarling]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬

pairing: drew starkey x reader

summary: you work with loewe an got to attend the brand's fashion show in paris with your boyfriend actor drew starkey, who’s also an official guest. with the world aware of your relationship, your interactions are under scrutiny, but it's drew's secret jealousy over your celebrity crush, ryan corr, that adds a cute twist to your day at the show. through stolen glances, subtle tension, and some loving gestures, drew's feelings are clear, even though he tries to hide them.| words count: 2,4k

warning(s): i did change a tiny bits of details but hope you enjoy!!! english is not my native language. mention of ryan corr (my baby daddy), slight jealousy, fluff overload, public interations, drew being adorably jealous. base on this

au: like, reblog and comment are much appreciated. discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. | taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @mileyraes @akobx @noobmazter69 @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @littlelamy @enjoymyloves @tini5 @drewstarkeys-world

Your Paris hotel room was warm and was bathed in a soft golden light from the setting sun, reflecting off the elegant décor. You had been fussing with your oversized light pink shirt for what felt like forever, trying to get the belt to sit just right. Across the room, Drew stood in front of the full-length mirror, completely absorbed in his reflection—but not in the vain, self-centered way. No, Drew was clearly excited, though he kept glancing at you between admiring his navy with white striped cardigan.

“I think this is it,” Drew finally said, adjusting the cardigan again. “But, you know, it doesn’t really matter what I wear.”

You glanced up from your belt, raising an eyebrow. “Oh? So now you’re going to pretend like you don’t care about looking good at a fashion show?”

He chuckled, walking over to you. “Nah, it’s not that. It’s just... look at you. No one’s gonna be looking at me tonight.” He stood in front of you now, hands casually tucked into the pockets of his jeans, staring down at you with the most obvious admiration in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the warmth that spread through you at his words. Drew was dressed in the perfect blend of casual and stylish: a dark pair of jeans, effortlessly cool sneakers, and the LOEWE navy blue cardigan with white diagonal stripes that hugged his frame in all the right places.

"You look amazing," he said, his voice softer, more sincere now. His fingers grazed the fabric of your oversized pink shirt, adjusting the belt around your waist. “Seriously, babe. You’re going to blow everyone away tonight.”

You looked down, hiding a smile. “I don’t know... I feel like I’m swimming in this shirt.”

Drew’s hands landed on your shoulders, and he took a step back to admire you. “Nope. You’re wrong. You look like you belong on the runway.”

Your heart fluttered under his gaze. The way Drew looked at you—soft, appreciative, like you were the only thing in the room worth paying attention to—made you feel like you were glowing. You’d seen that look from him a hundred times, but tonight, there was something different. Something deeper. He couldn’t stop staring, and it wasn’t just the fashion show nerves. It was pure affection.

“I think you’re exaggerating,” you teased, though your smile gave away how much you loved hearing it.

Drew chuckled, pulling you close by the waist and placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “I’m not exaggerating. I just can’t help it. Look at you. You’re perfect.”

You looked up into his eyes, a little flustered but completely in love with the way he was looking at you—like he couldn’t believe his luck. The intensity in his eyes felt almost palpable, as though he couldn’t quite get over the fact that you were his, standing there in front of him.

“Okay, okay,” you said, gently pushing him away, though you couldn’t stop smiling. “Enough with the compliments. We’re going to be late if we don’t leave soon.”

Drew laughed softly but didn’t take his eyes off you. “Sure, but just so you know, my eyes are going to be glued to you all night.”

The LOEWE fashion show was nothing short of breathtaking. The venue was packed with celebrities, designers, influencers, and fashion industry elites, all buzzing with excitement for the latest collection. Photographers lined the runway, their cameras flashing non-stop as everyone took their seats.

As soon as you and Drew entered, all eyes were on you both. Drew’s hand was gently wrapped around your waist, guiding you through the crowd as you made your way to your seats in the front row. The energy in the room was electric, and you could feel the anticipation for the show growing by the second.

You could also feel Drew’s gaze still on you, even though the show was about to begin.

“Are you seriously still staring at me?” you whispered, nudging him lightly as you took your seat.

Drew didn’t bother hiding his smile. “Yeah. You’re the most beautiful thing here.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, glancing away to try and shake the butterflies in your stomach. Drew wasn’t being overly dramatic—his voice was calm, soft, and completely sincere. When you finally looked back at him, his eyes hadn’t moved from you. He was practically beaming, like a kid in a candy store who couldn’t believe his luck.

“You’re supposed to be watching the show,” you reminded him, trying to keep your voice light, though your heart was doing flips.

“I am,” he replied, his eyes still glued to you. “Just not the runway.”

The lights dimmed, signaling the start of the show, and the first models began strutting down the runway in their stunning, avant-garde outfits. The crowd murmured in admiration, but Drew didn’t seem interested. His hand slipped into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze as his thumb lazily brushed over your skin.

You tried to focus on the models, the clothes, the lights—but it was impossible with the way Drew kept looking at you. His gaze was soft but intense, his eyes full of admiration and warmth. Every few minutes, he’d glance at the runway as if to remind himself where he was, but his eyes always returned to you.

“You’re hopeless,” you whispered, though you were smiling as you said it.

Drew just shrugged, his heart eyes fully on display. “Can’t help it.”

The show went on, and while everyone around you was absorbed in the incredible designs and the flawless models, Drew seemed perfectly content just sitting there, holding your hand and watching you like you were the only thing that mattered.

After the show, the venue transformed into a post-show party, with guests mingling, champagne being passed around, and conversations buzzing about the evening’s outfits. Drew kept you close, his arm around your waist, his hand never leaving yours.

“You’re seriously not going to take your eyes off me, are you?” you teased as you two wandered through the crowd.

Drew leaned in closer, whispering into your ear. “Not a chance.”

His voice sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, and despite the chaos of the party, you felt like you were in your own little bubble with him. You couldn’t help but grin, feeling the warmth of his affection radiating through every glance, every touch.

But then, as if on cue, things took a slight turn when you spotted a familiar face across the room. Your heart skipped a beat.

Ryan Corr.

Your longtime celebrity crush. He was standing just a few feet away, casually chatting with some industry insiders, looking as effortlessly cool as ever. For a moment, you forgot where you were, completely starstruck.

Drew, being ever observant, noticed your reaction immediately.

“Oh no,” he muttered, his voice low but teasing. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

You blinked, trying to snap out of it. “What? No. I mean, yeah, but it’s not a big deal.”

Drew raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into an amused grin. “Not a big deal? You’re literally glowing right now.”

You felt your face flush. “I am not glowing.”

Drew let out a soft chuckle, his arm around your waist tightening slightly. “You are. That’s your heart eyes face.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny the flustered feeling creeping up on you. “Okay, maybe it’s a tiny bit of a heart eyes situation. But I swear it’s nothing.”

Drew laughed, leaning in closer as his hand slid to the small of your back. “I don’t mind. Just don’t forget who you’re here with, alright?”

Before you could respond, Ryan Corr himself appeared in front of you, his easygoing smile making your heart do somersaults.

“Hey, I just wanted to say you’re killing it in that outfit,” Ryan said, his gaze landing on your oversized shirt. “LOEWE always knows how to make someone stand out.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but before you could, Drew stepped in, his grip on your waist just a touch firmer now.

“She pulls off everything,” Drew said smoothly, giving Ryan a smile that was friendly but clearly laced with something more. “But thanks. She looks incredible, right?”

Ryan nodded, clearly missing the subtle tension. “Yeah, she definitely does. Great taste.”

Drew’s smile tightened, and you could practically see the shift in his posture. He wasn’t angry—just a little competitive, a little protective. He wasn’t going to let Ryan out-charm him, not tonight.

“Yeah, well, I’m the lucky one who gets to take her home,” Drew said, his voice casual, but the look in his eyes said it all.

You bit your lip, trying to stifle a laugh at how obvious Drew was being. Ryan, blissfully unaware, gave you a polite nod and excused himself to mingle with other guests. The moment he walked away, Drew let out a dramatic sigh, his arm still firmly around your waist.

“Okay, I’ll admit it,” he muttered. “I might’ve been a little jealous.”

You raised an eyebrow, laughing softly as you leaned into him. “A little?”

Drew pouted, though his heart eyes were still on full display. “Alright, maybe more than a little. But come on, Ryan Corr?”

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You don’t have to be jealous. You know I only have heart eyes for you.”

Drew’s expression softened instantly, his grip on you tightening as he pulled you closer. “Good,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours. “Because I’ve had them for you all night.”

You kissed him softly, letting the moment linger. When you pulled back, his gaze was still locked on you, filled with all the love and admiration you’d seen earlier—and more. His heart eyes weren’t going anywhere, no matter who else was in the room.

Later, back at the hotel, you and Drew collapsed onto the bed in a fit of giggles. The night had been a whirlwind, from the fashion show to the party, to Drew’s obvious—yet adorable—jealousy.

“You were so jealous,” you teased, lying down beside him and resting your head on his chest.

Drew groaned dramatically, covering his face with his hands. “I know. I’m never gonna live this down, am I?”

You laughed, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Nope. But I kind of liked it.”

He peeked out from behind his hands, his eyes sparkling with affection. “Really?”

You nodded, pressing a kiss to his chest. “It was cute. You’re cute. Even when you’re jealous.”

Drew sighed, pulling you closer and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Well, I guess it’s alright as long as I’m the only one you’ve got heart eyes for.”

“You always will be,” you whispered, smiling against him.

Drew smiled, holding you tightly as the two of you drifted into a comfortable silence. And as the night settled around you, you couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky. No matter how many celebrities or crushes came and went, it was Drew who had your heart—and he knew it.

@drewxyn_updates

tag drewstarkey y/nusername loewe

683.911 likes

@drewxyn_updates LOEWE King and Queen! 👑💫 Drew Starkey and Y/n Y/l/n absolutely stole the show at the LOEWE runway, sitting front row together looking like a fashion power couple. Drew in that navy and white striped cardigan with a classic white tee underneath, paired with vintage-style jeans and leather boots — talk about effortlessly cool. 😍 Meanwhile, Y/n gave us all the runway vibes in that oversized pink belted shirt and wide-legged olive trousers. How do they make everything look so chic?! It’s giving model-off-duty meets high fashion royalty. ❤️✨

I can’t get over how adorable they look together, their chemistry is undeniable. Sitting so close, casually stylish yet turning heads, these two are pure fashion goals!!🔥💘 #CoupleGoals #DrewStarkey #YN #LOEWE #FashionIcons

Comments:

@starkeyy.love They are seriously the definition of 'power couple' 🔥🔥

@ynfashionfiles Drew’s cardigan is EVERYTHING! And Y/n slaying with that pink shirt?? Obsessed 😍

@fashionnista24 They look like they belong on the runway together 🥹❤️

@loewe_lovers Did they coordinate outfits or what?! LOEWE just won fashion week with them in the front row!

@couplegoals_daily I need a whole photo shoot of them, stat!! They’re too iconic 💫

@yn.dreamer Y/n always serving looks but this fit? On another level! 🥵🔥

@drewstarkey.stan Drew looks SO fine! That sweater is a vibe!! 💯

@frontrow_faves Their outfits are EVERYTHING! LOEWE is lucky to have them in the front row 😍

@runwayicons It’s like they walked off the runway and into our hearts 🥺❤️

@fanficqueen89 I swear they must be dating, the chemistry is TOO real 💕✨

@celebritystyleedit Literally the best-dressed pair at fashion week! Can't wait for more from them 💖👗

@chicvibesonly I’m obsessed with how coordinated they look without even trying! Iconic ✨

[mistymisfit]

How he shows he loves you

Summary: 3 short blurbs on how Jason shows reader he loves them.

warnings: mentions of reader being kidnapped, but descriptions are very vague lol.

wc: 2k

a/n: This isn't edited at all, but it has been sitting on y drafts for wayyyy too long

Jokes

Disappointment is not the initial reaction he hoped for when he came in through your front door. Shock would've been a more appropriate response, since your music was too loud and you didn't hear him come in. He decided to pull a prank and scare you, silently making his way to the kitchen where you were having a karaoke session. Which given how quiet he could be when he wanted to, it was not that hard at all. Now Jason tries to hold back his laugh, a boyish grin plastered across his features that he wouldn't be able to suppress even if he tried.

"What are you making?" He whispers next to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. If he was being honest, he'd say he is concerned about how long it takes you to notice there's someone else in your apartment. But right now, he's too caught up in the bliss of being in your presence that he can't bring himself to care.

"Oh, you're early." You say after the scream you let out when he comes up behind you, seemingly out of nowhere to whisper in your ear.

"Why? You're mad?" He replies, hiding his insecurity behind sass. What if you didn't want him there? What if he's overstayed his welcome? But before he can come up with some convoluted reason for why you don't want him anymore, you're stopping him.

"I just wanted to have this done by the time you got here" You signal back at the food with your head. And he looks over, finally realizing you were cooking his favorite meal.

"What's the special occasion?"

"Nothing," You blush "Can't a girl just cook for her boyfriend?"

"Not unless she wants me to make her my wife," He teases, you roll your eyes, growing accustomed to these types of jokes. Once he reached a certain level of domesticity and was comfortable enough in the relationship, he started to talk about how he was gonna marry you. Jason would even jokingly refer to you as his wife. At first, he made you blush, now it was just the usual routine.

You would lie if you said it didn't excite you and make your feelings all mushy when he did that, your heart felt warmer when he showed how committed he was to you. You felt giddy whenever he said "When we get married", he never said if we get married, he was very certain about wanting to spend the rest of his life with you. Your heart skipped a beat whenever he'd drop a detail of his dream wedding, "We're having a chocolate cake, like the one in Matilda" or "I'm kissing the fuck out of you on that altar". One time he said: "If you liked that, imagine what our honeymoon would be", that one got him a soft slap on his chest as you chuckled.

"How did you get here anyways?" You change the subject, going back to your cooking.

"Used the front door" He answers with a smirk, arms wrapping around your waist as he steps closer to you.

"Really? How?"

"Cause I'm your boyfriend," He replies like it's the most obvious thing in the world. It is, but he didn't need to say it like that. "I have been for a while, and you gave me your keys"

"Damn, my doorman just lets anyone in these days" You joke and you can hear the little "tsk" that comes from his mouth as he lets go of you.

"I can leave and come back from your window" He's kidding, but you know him well enough to know he's willing to follow through just for the sake of doing a bit. Instead, you hold his arm, pulling him back to you in between giggles.

"Please, I finally have boot imprint-free windowsills"

He laughs, it's real laughter, not his usual chuckle. It makes your heart work overtime as you watch his smile reach his eyes so much that he ends up closing them. He pulls you in for a kiss before he lets you go to finish the dinner you worked so hard on. The food that when he takes a bite from has him asking:"You want a summer or spring wedding?"

Touch

Even if he's less inclined to admit this, Jason knew that before you met he was touch starved. And now he can't get enough of it, he's constantly on your side or with his hands on you in any way, shape or form. It came as a shock--to him-- how badly he needed you sometimes, he never felt this about anyone before. He swears he's not usually this clingy.

You are walking down the street and suddenly you're not holding his hand or bicep and he's grabbing your hand and putting it back. He could never be one of those boyfriends who don't notice when their partner stops holding their hand, if you ever so that he's immediately holding your hand again and asking what's wrong.

Sometimes his touch is protective. You are going through a crowded space and he has his hand placed on the small of your back, guiding you and making sure nothing ever happens to you. It turns a little too protective when another guy tries talking to you and he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in for a kiss.

But most of the time, he's all alone with you, lying down on bed or a couch, and he's tracing shapes on your uncovered skin. He leans his head closer when you play with his hair or God forbid you touch his face, it has his knees giving out. He loves feeling your weight on top of him, loves feeling you're real and that you're with him and not going anywhere. Maybe he sneaks a hand under your clothes if he feels daring, and your attention doesn't shift. It amazes him how he's allowed this, how much access you give him. And over everything else, it doesn't have to be sexual. Casual skin to skin contact did not have to mean anything else; it was just that.

With you he's experienced that not every touch has violence behind it, not every contact has an ulterior motive. So he's so gentle with you, maybe he is not good with words, so he makes up for it. You know he shows his affection in action rather than words, he's not that far from worshiping the ground you walk on. He's specially kind when you know you're vulnerable; he presses kisses to your face as much as he can and to your shoulder blades when he can't. You know he's a big softy since you've pretended to be asleep multiple times as he played with your hair. An more than once you've heard him whisper hushed love confessions he never thought you'd hear. His hands are rough with criminals but you'd never be able to tell by how kind he's around you.

Priority

Jason wants you to know you can count on him for anything, he makes a point of it by telling you multiple times. You ran out of milk? He's buying it on his way to your place Your apartment needs fixing and your landlord won't help? Problem's solved within the hour. Maybe you got terrible cramps, he's there to help you however you want him to. So it's no surprise to you or anyone that the second you're in danger he drops everything else. You're his number one priority.

"Where is she?" He pushes Bruce for information, which he was adamant in not telling him. Knowing Jason, he'd end up acting before he thinks it through, he'd show up unprepared and end up causing a disaster. Or at least that is what Bruce thinks about the son who plotted his revenge against him for years to the last minute detail.

"Jason" He mutters under his breath.

"I swear to God if I find out someone touched a hair in her head because you wasted time-"

"You go with me or you don't" He threatens "at all."

And Jason loves you so much, he's willing to agree to work with him in a heartbeat. He puts all his resentment aside when he thinks it will help you, if it meant working with the bat and abiding by his rules, then so be it. He'll track down the poor fucker who took you and kill him later. He didn't like being around him, it made him feel tense due to the incredibly strained relationship between the two of them. Bruce loved Jason, but sadly his way of showing it translated quite the opposite way in the younger one's eyes.

Bruce was being too quiet about what happened to you. All he knew was that he couldn't reach you, you were not at any of the usual places, and your friends had no idea where you were either. He checked your apartment and things were perfectly placed, no one had broken in--other than him. Then when he tracked your phone, which he only promised to do in extreme situations like today, he found it inside your purse thrown in some dirty alleyway. That's when his panic hit its peak and turned back to get his red hood gear and ask the bats if they knew anything about you.

He got to a warehouse, standing next to Bruce he decides to push him a bit more to get anything out of him. His mind was killing him with questions, were you okay? what happened? how did he know? and couldn't bear another second next to the stoic figure not willing to tell him anything.

"It's Mad Hatter, he's been taking people off the streets for-"

"Is she okay?" He cuts off, he has no space in his mind for whatever crazy thing he had planned against Batman or the city. Not when he's not sure you're safe, when Bruce won't even tell him if you're alive.

"She should be" He gives in "I'll take care of him, you handle hostages"

That's all he needs, he braces himself before following after Bruce, watching every step he made as it could make the difference between losing you or saving you. Jason's a bit pissed he's relegated to hostages much like he was during his time as Robin but decides against questioning for now. He steps and breathes as quietly as he can while he makes his way past the sign that reads "Wonderland". He silently signals to Bruce that they should split and cover more ground, to which he agreed with a curt nod. His masks allows him to have a better vision in the dark, so he can see how filthy the place was and how worn down the wonderland decorations were. He doesn't know if the man was there, but knowing Bruce he sent him on a path he wasn't likely to find him alone.

He finally finds some of his hostages, two twins laying unconscious on the floor. He tried waking them up to no success; he saw their chests move up and down as they breathed, so he knew he could worry about that later. Moving further, he sees a couple more people, all dressed up as characters like the twins were, in the same state. He then moves to the tea party, where another two kids dressed as the animals in the book sat with their heads on the table. He picks one of them up and rests them in a more comfortable position on the floor using what he could to make a cushion for their head, then does the same with the other kid. He thinks it's the least he could do if he couldn't wake them up. After a nerve-wracking walk through Lewis Caroll's nightmare he finds you, he feels his soul getting back to his body when his eyes finally land on you.

You lay on a floor that resembles a chessboard wearing a white dress and a crown, a little blonde girl with a light blue dress is cuddled up on your arms. He kneels down next to you, whispering your name and grabbing your shoulder to shake you in an almost desperate attempt to wake you.

"Please, please" He's sure if someone could hear how pathetic he sounded, his reputation would be ruined forever.

"Jay?" You manage to mutter under your breath, still not opening your eyes.

"Yes, I'll get you out of here"

"Hm, hats" you hummed, he doubted you were even aware of anything.

"I know, baby"

"off" Your voice was low and it seemed to him that you were fighting to stay awake and losing.

He took off the crown from your head and the headband from "Alice's". Listening to your advice, even if you were barely conscious. Once he confirmed you were okay, he carried you out. Then he came back for the little girl next to you, and so on until everyone was out and hat free. By that time police had arrived, and Batman was handing Jervis' ass to the cops to begin the cycle once more. He holds back, watching from afar to avoid getting caught. He watched as Batman shared a few words with Gordon, then Barbara tuned in to let him know which hospital they were taking you to.

When you wake up he is next to you, holding your hand and with the biggest eye-bags you've ever seen him with. He almost starts crying when you call his name in a hoarse whisper.

"I'm okay,"You whisper, wrapping your arms tightly around him. The scene is too touching as you see someone put a hand on his shoulder and tell him something.

"I'll go tell the doctors you woke up" He excused himself, reluctant even to let go of your hand, much less entertained by the idea of being separated from you too long.

You didn't see him as Jason's frame covered the man behind him but now you notice the one and only Bruce Wayne standing in your hospital room. It was too much to take in.

"Oh, Jason must really love me if he was willing to work with you"