#friends to lovers will never not get to me
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taeghi · 3 days ago
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take two
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you weren’t expecting to see him again, but here he is. jake’s back, and with him comes everything you’ve been trying to move on from. so, what now?
PAIRING : ex!jake x y/n
GENRE : second chance love, ex's to lovers, smut, angst. bathroom sex, choking + hair pulling :D
WC : like 7k?
MDNI
your coworkers convinced you to go out with them after work. it is friday, after all, so you thought it would be a good start to your weekend after a long week of work.
across the street from your workplace is a bar that your coworkers and other workers nearby visit regularly. it's not too small and not too big, but on weekends, it's particularly busy. there are some booths that align the edges of the place, a counter area to order drinks, and a pretty large dance floor.
your coworkers and you snag a booth in the far corner.
your nails tap against the scratched wooden table as your coworkers look at the menu, thinking about ordering an appetizer for you all to share. to be honest, you aren't really hungry, and you are getting tired of them arguing about what to order.
"i'm just going to the bar to get a drink," you inform them, causing them to glance up at you.
"oh, can you get me a beer, y/n?" lila asks, her eyes lighting up.
"can you get me one, too?" daisy adds hopefully.
"why don't you just get us a jug of beer to share, y/n?" serena suggests instead.
"yeah! that would be better!" lila nods, her smile taking up her entire pretty face. daisy nods in agreement, looking between the two at the table and you.
"uh, yeah, okay! no problem!" you agree with your coworkers and turn towards the bar.
you sigh to yourself as you ask the bartender for a jug of beer and slide him $30 across the counter. you don't like beer, but you've just started working at this company and quickly realized how cliquey it is. the girls you came with tonight are more popular at your work. they're pretty and good at their jobs. you were shocked when they invited you to go out with them tonight.
since you're new at your job and don't know anyone properly yet, you decide to go out with these girls, even if they aren't your usual friend type. that's why you're ordering beer instead of your normal drink. you're used to trying to fit in with other groups and surrendering your authentic self, though you thought you wouldn't have to once you graduated college.
the bartender places a jug of beer on the counter; you reach for it simultaneously with someone else—your hand brushes against the stranger's hand on the jug's handle. you pull back quickly and start to apologize, "oh, i'm so sorry i thought that was mi-," the words die on your tongue.
"y/n?"
the way he says your name is too familiar for your liking. you've heard him say it many times before and never thought you would hear it again.
"jake?" you respond, and as you do, you realize it's the first time you've said his name out loud in years.
jake looks the same but different all at once. his features are more mature than they were in freshman year, and his hair is longer. his chest is more built, and you can't help but notice how the shirt he's wearing is so snug against his arms, which are bigger than you remembered. his eyes are more tired and sunken than they were those years ago.
"yeah, it's been a while." he speaks awkwardly, but he doesn't make a move to escape.
his words force you to think back about when you last saw him, the pain of that memory is suppressed but still somehow fresh. you remember the both of you yelling and crying and him leaving your dorm room for the last time by slamming the door behind him.
jake was your first boyfriend.
you met in your first year of college, and within a week, you were dating. the first half of your relationship was perfect. if only it could have stayed that way.
before the beginning of the sophomore year had even started, your relationship with jake sim had faltered. you think it was both of your faults as to why it ended. he began to get more popular and wanted to go out and neglected your needs for his social life, and you started to get more self-conscious and insecure.
it wasn’t long after your breakup that jake sim had disappeared. 
you hadn’t even known he left until your mutual friends and acquaintances had started asking you where he went. but you were as shocked as they were. 
you aren’t sure where he went, but you knew for a fact that he had dropped out of your university. there was a few rumours about where he had gone, like to france to learn french or that he went back to australia because his family had gone bankrupt. 
you (and probably everyone else he ever knew) checked his social media daily to see if he changed anything or posted anything. he never posted on his snapchat again, didn’t retweet a stupid meme on twitter (i will never call it X). his instagram only had one small change suddenly, a few months after he had left. the first letter of your name that was in his instagram bio had been deleted. 
you remember the feeling of your heart sinking into your stomach when you pressed his username in your recent searches, thinking that nothing would have changed, that his instagram would still look like he was forever stuck in the past. but the first thing you noticed when it slid onto his account was your initial gone. it comforted you but devastated you at the same time. 
on one hand, he was at least alive and safe if he was editing his insta bio, and on the other hand, he really had moved on from you. 
after he removed your initial you stopped checking all of his social media. at some point, he had deleted his instagram completely, but you weren’t shocked by that as much. 
you had thought you would never see jake sim ever, again and that you could move on with your life. 
but that didn't last long since he's standing directly in front of you right now.
he continues with your lack of response, "you look good, though, y/n."
you glance down at your work attire, just some dress pants and a blouse, "thanks, i'm just here after work."
"oh, where do you work?"
"uh, across the street, at the law firm, across the street."
his eyes light up at the information, "oh my god, you always wanted to work there! that's great!"
you smile painfully at his remembering of what you wanted to do after college. your gaze softening with a sadness you couldn’t quite hide. it was like you’re scared that if you blink he’d disappear again. 
"what?" he asks you with a curious smile, obviously picking up on your expression. 
"sorry," you shook your head to come back to reality, "i just… i never thought i’d see you again."
jake’s laugh was quick and full, like how you remembered it, “yeah, me neither to be honest. 
your head tilted slightly, yourbrows knitting together. "where did you go, anyways? like, when you dropped out?"
his smile faltered at that, just a fraction, but it was enough for you to notice. there was a hesitation in his eyes, his mouth opening like he was searching for the right words to be able to explain himself. 
but before he could speak, "here's your beer, miss." the bartender places another jug of beer beside jake's. you thank him before he moves on to the other customers, demanding his attention.
you glance back at jake, "i've got to get back to my coworkers…"
jake nods, and you can sense some disappointment in him, "right, i guess uh, i'll see you around maybe."
"yeah, maybe."
"it was nice seeing you, though. have fun with your coworkers."
you offer him a faint smile, "it was nice seeing you too; bye, jake."
you turn on your heel and start to walk back to your table. you feel like the blood has entirely left your body as your heart quickens. you can't believe you just saw your ex after all these years. you realize how fresh the pain is still.
you place the jug of beer on the table, and the other girls barely speak to you as they cheer for the alcohol and pour it into their cups.
for the rest of the night, you force yourself to sit there, listening to lila complain about the girl in the cubicle beside her, serena whining about how your boss has been avoiding her since their most recent hookup, and daisy hating the way the other girls in the office dress.
you try to focus on their conversations, but it feels draining. you wonder how you got yourself in this position.
you thought your life would be so different after college—that you'd actually enjoy life. but you're starting to think it's all the same no matter where you are. you're holding a cup of a drink that you don't even like and pretending to fit in with these coworkers that you really don't like.
in the same bar, there's jake sim, your ex-boyfriend of all people. you can't help but wonder how he's genuinely been and what he's been up to now.
it's a thought that keeps you up at night every few months: what would have happened if you had stayed together during college if you hadn't let your insecurities get the best of you, if you had gone out with him to those parties he was always going to?
before you can stop yourself, your gaze shifts across the room. there he is. jake is sitting at a table with a few friends, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he listens to someone speak. your heart clenches as his eyes suddenly lift, locking onto yours through the crowded bar.
the noise around you silences. his gaze feels heavier than it should—like he's reading every thought you've buried, every emotion you swore you'd moved past. you want to look away, pretend that you don't see him, but you can't. his eyes are prettier than you remembered.
just as your thoughts start spiraling, a waitress steps in front of his table, breaking eye contact. it's enough to jolt you back to reality, enough to remind you of where you are and who you're supposed to be now.
"i think i'm gonna head home," you tell your coworkers, forcing a weak smile as you grab your bag.
they barely notice as you slip away, the bar noise fading behind you as you step outside.
every step you take home leads to a new memory you've suppressed about jake. like when he used to hum his favorite song as he drove, how he pulled his jacket off and covered your head with it from the sudden rain one night, and the memory of how his voice sounded so deep and raspy in the morning as he begged you to stay "just a little longer" in bed.
how could jake still affect you after all these years?
you wipe the tear falling down your cheek.
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you spent the rest of the weekend wondering why you had the worst luck. you could’ve run into anyone you’ve ever met, but it just had to be jake sim. 
your break up with jake was hard on you. he was the first boy you ever loved. sometimes you wondered if he would be the only boy you’ll ever love. 
since jake, you’ve gone on a few dates with other boys; some you’ve met on shitty dating apps and others your friends had set you up with. most of them never went to a second date and the rest didn’t last more than a year. 
it was starting to frustrate you and you were beginning to think you’d be single forever. 
your friends asked you what was wrong with all the boys you’ve dated, and you could never tell them a straightforward answer. you felt like you were looking for something in each of them that they never had. sometimes your mind would tell you that you’re looking for jake within them, but you never let yourself ponder on that thought for long. 
when monday rolled around again, you realize you spent the entire weekend holed up in your apartment with thoughts of jake sim taking up your entire mind. you tell yourself that the past 48 hours was the final time you’d ever think about him and you went to work.
you are kind of proud of yourself for not thinking too much about jake sim all week. 
everytime your ex boyfriend would seep into your mind, you reminded yourself to not think about him. there is no good about thinking about all the what if’s that surround him and your relationship. that your history with jake sim is done, and you’ll never see him again. 
this friday night, you aren’t spending it in a corner of a bar with your coworkers that you mildly hate, but spending it in a corner of a bar with your college friends for one of their birthdays. 
you had met the birthday girl, aeri, during your freshman year of college and she had easily become one of your best friends. even after college aeri and you have made sure to remain close, despite both of you working a lot of longer hours now. 
you show up at the bar she had texted you the address to earlier on time, wearing a short black dress that you always wanted to wear but never a reason to. you’re quick to spot your friend group in the bar. they were loud and already filling up two tables pushed together. 
“oh my god! y/n!” aeri suddenly squeals as she sees you over the many heads of your friends. 
the whole group turns at your name and you’re suddenly being pulled into many hugs as you greet all your friends. some of them you haven’t seen since graduation, but others you’ve seen last week. 
“happy birthday, aeri,” you greet your best friend finally, handing her her gift in a pink bag. 
“aw, thank you so much, y/n!” she pulls you into a tight hug, your chin squeezed against her shoulder and neck. 
“it’s no problem! i hope you like it!” 
“oh, you know i will.” aeri moves her hand dismissively, but then her eyes suddenly light up. “oh my god, y/n, wait, guess who showed up!” 
you tilt your head curiously, “who?” 
“jake!” 
his name makes your blood run cold and your body heat up at the same time. you follow with your eyes where your best friend's finger is pointing, and sure enough, jake sim is sitting at the table. 
unlike last week, jake’s hair is pushed back neatly and he’s wearing an all black suit, he looks more put together. it makes your heart stop for a minute as you take in his appearance. his chocolate brown eyes are looking back at you with a sheepish smile on his face. 
“isn’t it great y/n? he’s back!” aeri continues, not being able to contain her own excitement for her old friend returning. 
“uh, yeah, it is.” you nod, not being able to form any other words. 
some servers suddenly approach the table with some drinks, distracting everyone, so you take your chance to sit down at the only empty chair at the table. which just so happens to be across from jake. 
you curse yourself for taking so long to pick an outfit out, you could’ve been here earlier and not forced to sit directly looking at your ex. 
thankfully, sora is sitting beside you, she’s the sweetest girl you’ve ever met. you met her during your final years at college, though you wish you could’ve met her much sooner. she always knows how to cheer you up. 
“hi, y/n! i love your dress.” sora greets you, her lovely smile already on her pretty face. 
“thanks sora, i love your dress too, it’s super pretty!” 
she thanks you before she takes a sip of her drink, “so you were friend’s with jake too, then?” 
dammit sora. 
your wide eyes meet jakes wide ones across the table. both of you look at each other and then at sora. since sora had joined your friend group later on, she never got to meet jake. maybe she’s heard some stories about him, but that’s all she would’ve known about your ex. 
“uh yeah, we were.” jake speaks for you, keeping his voice so calm compared to how you were feeling inside. 
from down the table you hear aeri scoff, “please sora, they weren’t just friends.” everyone turns to look at aeri, who bless her heart, is already wasted, “they dated!” 
your stomach drops further at your best friend reminding everyone about your past relationship with jake. the table laughs as you see everyone remembering. you stare down at your lap, wishing you could disappear. 
“yeah, sora,” you hear your friend heeseung speak from down the table, “jake and y/n use to be like attached at the hip.” 
sunghoon, who’s sitting beside heeseung chimes in with a teasing smile, “jake and i use to live together in freshman year. it was like y/n was our third roommate. i remember us joking about her having to start paying rent she was there so often!” 
the laughter around the table is lighthearted, with everyone remembering freshman year. but you leave your gaze fixated on your lap. you glance up at jake quickly, wanting to see if he’s just as awkward and embarrassed as you are, but of course he’s not. 
jake is calm and seems completely nonchalant about the whole thing. 
before you could spiral further, the servers return with plates of food for everyone. the conversation shifts as everyone starts to prepare to eat, mumbling about how hungry they are. 
sora leans toward you, her expression apologetic as she whispers to you, “i’m so sorry about that y/n. i should’ve been quieter or something.” 
you shake your head, giving her a small smile. “it’s no problem sora. it’s okay— you didn’t know.” 
from down the table, aeri’s voice cuts through, “more shots!” she yells, raising her glass high. you realize she must be really going full out for her birthday this year. 
suddenly, you feel something brush against your calf. the gentle but purposefully movement makes you jump slightly. your eyes dart across the table, meeting jake’s calm gaze. his leg is the one stretched out under the table with his foot gently rubbing yours. you can tell that the look in his eyes is asking if you’re okay. it makes your chest tighten. 
you can’t hold his gaze for long. 
you take the chance to excuse yourself. “i’m going to the bathroom,” you murmur quietly to sora, who nods in understanding. you can tell she still feels bad for triggering the jake conversation. 
you leave the table quickly, making a beeline straight for the hallway that leads to the bathroom. when you reach the door though, it’s locked. 
“great,” you sigh to yourself and spin to lean against the wall, it’s cold against your warm skin. 
you close your eyes, trying to calm yourself down. everytime you think you’ll never see jake sim again, you’re always proven wrong. and now, he’s back with your friend group, so you’ll have to see him even more often. you don’t know if you can do it. you think about going home early. aeri is too drunk to notice if you disappear before her fourth round of shots. 
another person walks in the tight, dark hallway to the bathrooms which makes you glance up and realize it’s jake. 
he stops in front of you, “are you okay?” 
“yeah, just someones in there,” you nod towards the closed bathroom door, “so i’m waiting.” 
jake nods as his mouth forms an “O” in understanding. he leans back against the opposite wall of you, so you’re both facing each other. 
now, in the dark, you recognize how much his facial features have matured since you last saw him. he’s not boyish and silly like he used to be when you dated. jake looks more serious and stoic and you wonder if you would even know parts of him anymore. 
“why are you acting like nothing happened between us?” jake suddenly asks you. 
it takes you by surprise, how blunt his question is. you try to remember if jake was this blunt when you dated. 
“what do you mean?” 
jake pushes off the wall behind him and he steps towards you, closing the distance in the small hallway. his movements have your pulse racing. his frame is enclosing you against the wall, he leans one of his hands against the wall beside your head. 
“you know what i mean, y/n.” jake’s voice is low as he speaks. he looks down at you, right into your eyes. you feel your knees buckle. “you’re sitting there, acting like we’re strangers or something. like none of it mattered. like i didn’t matter to you.” 
your whole body feels like its on fire. your fingers grip the hem of your dress, trying to keep you present and upright against the wall behind you. 
“jake,” you whisper, trying to tell him anything. but the intensity in his eyes and how close his body is to yours make it hard to think straight. 
“just tell me, y/n,” jake says slowly, his free hand brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face, making your breath hitch at his touch that you haven’t felt in years, “is this really how you want it to be between us?” 
his words hang in the air. the tension between you is so thick in this small hallway that it feels almost suffocating. his hand lingers on your cheek. the touch of his fingers makes your brain fuzzy. you want to respond to him, saying something or anything to him, but you can’t focus on anything but how close he is to you. how familiar his touch is. 
“tell me you don’t feel it anymore.” jake tells you, his breath warm against your skin. his fingers fall to your jaw, titling your face up so you’re forced to look directly at him. you feel hyper-aware of the fact that his lips are just a mere inch away from yours. 
“f-feel what?” 
the bathroom door opens right beside your head, the light from inside brightens the hallway. you both freeze as you look at a girl you don’t recognize step out of the bathroom. her eyes widen slightly as the light behind her exposes both of you pressed up against the wall. her face is contorted as he awkwardly walks around you and back to the bar. 
before you can say anything, jake is pushing you into the bathroom, closing the door and locking it with both of you inside. 
jake doesn’t give you a second to breathe, he’s pushing you up against the sink’s counter, your hips pushed against the ledge. 
“the neediness y/n,” jake answers your question from the hall, “you used to be so needy for me. you used to make me make you cum at least twice before we could even leave the house. do you remember that, y/n?”
his words make you gasp, the memories of all the times jake has made you orgasm come flooding into your mind. no one’s ever known your body as well as jake has. no one’s ever been attentive as him. with all the boring dates you’ve been on through the years, the sex was just as boring. 
“do you want me to remind you why you were so needy for me, baby?” 
“please,” you whine out, suddenly caving into your desires, to your neediness. 
within seconds jake is lifting you up onto the bathroom counter behind you, your back pressed up against the cool mirror. his hands don’t hesitate to roam your body, feeling your body again, like he once did all the those years ago. you bite your lip to suppress a moan. you’re quickly remembering how easily his touch affects you. 
“did you miss my touch, baby?” jake whispers, his hot breath fanning your neck. it sends goosebumps across your skin. his lips start to trail down your neck, kissing the skin there so softly, teasing. his hands are the complete contrast to his lips, they’re rough like they own you. 
even after all these years, it still seems like jake knows exactly how to tease you and touch you. it feels as if there was no time gap between then and now. 
jake’s fingers start trailing up your bare thighs, so gently and warm, “you missed the way i make you feel? the way i make you cum?” his words further light the fire within you. you nod against the mirror behind you, watching as he stands between your legs, his fingers finding the already damp fabric of your panties. 
jake hooks his fingers under the elastic and pulls them down, leaving your bottom half completely exposed to his eyes. the sudden rush of cool air on your core makes you gasp. but jake wastes no time and slides two fingers inside your wet folds, eliciting a soft cry from your lips at the feeling of being stuffed. 
“you’re so fucking wet baby,” he growls, his fingers starting to push in and out of your hole. he curls them in just the right way that has you moaning already. he knows your body already, he doesn’t need to probe around to find that one spot that has you writhing in pleasure. he knows what makes you weak. “do you want me to fuck you right here? in this bathroom with all of our friends outside waiting for us?” 
you can only nod, your breath coming in shallow gasps as his fingers still fuck into you. he leans directly over over pussy, allowing a string of spit to fall from lips and right onto your core, mixing with your juices all over his fingers. the sounds emanating from your pussy fill the bathroom. the slick noise jake’s fingers slicking against your juices mingle with your moans. 
jake adds a third finger, stretching you, filling you. its the most full you’ve been in years. the sensation is addicting. 
“tell me you missed me, baby.” jake demands, his fingers twisting and thrusting inside of you. “tell me you’ve been thinking about my touch— my cock pounding into you.” his words are even more addicting as you’re forced to listen to him in your ear. you whimper out in response, trying to keep your eyes open to watch him, to watch his fingers sink into your wet core over and over again. 
“say it,” he insists, his fingers slowing their pace, teasing you. “say you need my cock, that you want me to remind you why you loved my cock so much.” his free hand reaches up, gripping your throat, applying just the right amount of pressure to make your thoughts swirl. the choke sends a rush of adrenaline through your body, heightening your senses. you feel so submissive to him that it only fuels your desire for him. 
“i, i need it!” you manage to croak out, your voice so hoarse. “please fuck me, jake, please.” 
your words make him release your neck, and instead he grabs your hair. the pain feels good as it mixes with the pleasure his fingers are giving you. 
with both of his hands busy and your hips bucking off the counter and legs squeezing around jake’s wrist, jake’s access to your sweet spot inside of your pussy was disrupted. 
“hold your legs open for me,” jake tells you. your hands reach around to hook underneath your knees to spread yourself bare for him. “good girl.” 
you whimper at the name. jake keeps your head pinned back against the mirror and keeps his other hand delved deep inside your pussy as he curls and swirls his fingers around your g spot, stretching you. 
you felt so dirty— fucking your ex in a bathroom with your friends all outside waiting for you. you’re bare on the sink counter and holding your own legs open, spreading yourself for your ex. 
“f-fuck!” you cry out, eyes squeezing shut as he finger fucks you. everytime his fingers enter you you feel closer and closer to the edge— you can practically taste your orgasm. “i want your cock so bad! i need it, please!” 
jake groans, he swears he feels his cock twitch in his pants at how needy your voice sounded, “fuck, you know how much i love hearing you beg. i can’t say no to it,” jake then takes his fingers out of you, chuckling at your whine and the way your pussy tries to clamp around them, wanting them to stay inside. 
he leaves you panting and writhing on the counter as he starts to unbuckle his pants and pull his hard cock out. the sight of you with your hair messy from his hand pulling it and your pupils blown out makes his cock drip more with precum. 
you spread your legs again for him to stand in between them. his large, hard cock only inches away from sliding into your pussy. he leans between your bodies again, letting spit drip from his mouth and land right on his cock. you forgot how much jake loves to make it as messy as possible. 
jake presses his cock against your throbbing clit. it makes your squirm as it rubs up and down your wet folds, collecting more of your juices and his spit. you whine out into the bar’s bathroom as he teases you. your hips try to grind against his cock that is vertical with your slit as he rubs it up and down. you really are so desparate and so needy, especially for jake’s cock. 
you’re getting tired of his teasing and smirking as he watches you try to grind yourself onto his cock. “jake, please fuck me already!” you urge him to take you then and there. 
“someone’s impatient,” jake continues smirking. before you could complain further, jake thrusts forward, filling your wet pussy in one swift motion. you instantly cry out, throwing your head back against the mirror behind you. 
the feeling of finally being stuffed full satisfies and overwhelms you at once. but, jake holds himself still for a moment, with his cock fully lodged inside of you, letting you adjust. he doesn’t pull out until you nod at him that it was okay to start. 
his first thrust back in is rough and hard. the force of his hips meeting yours makes your entire body jerk against the bathroom counter. the mirror behind you holds you in place for his harsh thrusting. jake’s hands are holding your legs tight as he begins to fuck in and out of you. 
the sound of the wetness from your juices and his saliva fill the room along with the sound of skin slapping against skin. jake’s grunts are low and his face is already contorted into pleasure as he focuses on fucking his cock deep inside of you. 
“fuck you’re such a good girl, taking all of my cock like this,”  jake groans out, his pace becoming relentless and wild as he fucks you on the counter. “you’re gonna cum all over my cock right? show me how needy you are— how much you need to cum on my cock?” 
“oh fuck yes!” you cry out, your legs wrapping around his waist tighter, latching onto him, “please fuck don’t stop!” 
yor nails dig into his shoulders through his black shirt. jake reaches between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and starts to circle it the way he knows you like it. 
jake seemingly knows everything about your body, even more than you do. you swear he makes you cum than you can make yourself cum. nothing feels as good as jake— that’s all you can think about as he is pounding into you. 
suddenly, jake pulls out of you completely and steps away, making your legs drop from around his waist. 
“jake,” you whine out, “what the fuck? i was so close!” 
he only chuckles in response, “turn around, let me see your ass.” 
you shut up and get off the counter, turning around like he told you to. jake’s hand is on your back, pushing you down so your ass it up and your chest is pressed flush against the cool bathroom counter. 
jake’s other hand harshly slaps your bare skin on your ass, “spread your legs.” you do as he says again, whining at the pain and pleasure you’re feeling all at once. 
you feel jake’s hands wrap around your waist before he slides his cock back into you, both of you groaning at the feeling of the different angle. jake’s grip on your waist tightens as he starts to fuck into you from the back now. your ass moving every time he slams his cock back into you all the way. 
without jake holding you in place, you’re sure your hips would be bruised from the bathroom counter from how hard and fast he’s pounding into you. you keep your hands on the edges of the bathroom counter, letting jake fuck you at whatever pace he wants. your moans are getting louder and louder as both of you start to fill the bathroom up with the smell of sex and sweat. 
“fuck, this pussy is just as good as i remembered it,” jake grunts out behind you. his once neat, pushed back hair is now messy along his forehead from his harsh movements and sweat. his bottom lip is swollen from biting down on it as he fucks you. 
“mhm,” you nod against the counter, “y-you’re cock is still so good, fuck.” 
jake’s hand lands harshly on your ass again, your hand quickly covers your mouth to prevent you from screaming. you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as jake fucks you, his cock stretching you so fucking good. 
jake suddenly pulls your hair backwards, “stand up.” you do as he says yet again, but you need to grip the counter in front of you and lean on his body behind you to stand up. “look,” his nods beside your face from behind you, now that your back is pressed against his chest, his cock still lodged deep inside of you. 
you look ahead of you into the mirror and see what you and jake look like pressed up against each other. jake’s one hand is still in your hair, pulling it back so you’re forced to look at yourself in the mirror. both of your hair is a mess either way, and your black dress is pulled up way past your waist, it’s almost like a crop top now. 
yours and jakes eyes both look blown out, high on sex, pleasure and adrenaline. even though you’re both sweaty, you can’t help but think how good jake looks with a few sweat droplets gathering around his hairline. 
“don’t you look so sexy, baby?” jake whispers into your ear, he starts to thrust upwards into your pussy again, it makes your knees buckle underneath yourself. you whimper in response, not being able to take your eyes off of yourselves in the mirror. 
“y-you look so hot,” your voice is hoarse as you tell him. in the mirror you see him smirk at you, before he leans over and starts sucking on your neck, biting and nipping at all the spots that he knows drives you crazy. 
jake doesn’t stop thrusting his cock up inside of you as he lets go of your hair with his hand. he then trails his hand down the front side of you and circling your clit again with two fingers. you throw your head back onto his shoulder, but still keep your eyes on the mirror in front of you. it was like watching your own personal porn, the way both of you were groaning and grabbing each other. the way your entire body would jerk everytime jake thrusted inside of you. 
“that’s it, keep watching us, baby,” jake groans into your ear, your eyes meet his through the reflection of the mirror, “don’t we look so good together?” 
“y-yes,” you whimper out, the pressure on your clit making you lose yourself within the pleasure. 
“did you miss my cock, y/n? did you miss me?” 
“mhm, yes, fuck, missed you so much.” 
jake smirks against your cheek at your response, his thrusting getting more erratic, wanting to make you cum all over his cock just like you had done before, years ago. 
“then cum all over my cock baby, show me how much you missed this.” 
his words push you to the edge, your orgasm finally done building as it courses through your body almost suddenly. “fuck!” you cry out, your nails digging into the bathroom counter in front of you. without jake holding you you would’ve fallen right down from how the pleasure completely takes over your body. his two fingers don’t stop circling your clit all the way through your orgasm, making you cry out his name, your pussy clamping around his cock. 
jake continues to thrust through your orgasm, his own release building. He grips your hips tightly, his breath coming in harsh gasps as he empties himself deep inside you. "That's it, baby, milk my cock," he growls, his voice hoarse with pleasure.
As your bodies slowly calm, Jake leans forward, his lips finding yours in a hungry kiss. The taste of him, the feel of his body against yours, reminds you why you had always found it so hard to forget him. 
“I missed this, missed you," he breathes against your lips, his fingers gently caressing your cheek. 
with his words and now that he wasn’t inside of you or making your mind all fuzzy, his words only brought you back to reality. 
the reality that you just had sex with your ex in a bathroom of a bar at your best friends birthday party. 
jake can physically see you tense in front of him, he lets you step away from him, turning away from him to pick up your panties from the floor and quickly slip them back on. 
“y/n?” he questions you, “are you okay?” 
“mhm,” you tell him, it’s all you can manage, your mind too confused with anything else. 
the air in the bathroom suddenly feels suffocating. your lips and body are still tingling from his touch. 
it feels like just a second ago, jake was just a memory from your college days, someone that you thought you'd’ never see again, and now, you’ve just been pressed against the bathroom counter with his hands all over your skin and his lips claiming yours. you feel like nothing makes sense right now. 
you take a step back, putting distance between you and jake, your heart pounding erratically. “i can’t do this,” you whisper, avoiding his gaze as you reach for the door handle.
“y/n, wait.” jake’s voice is soft but urgent, and his hand wraps around your wrist gently, trying to stop you. “can we just talk?”
but you shake your head, pulling free from his grasp. “i can’t,” you repeat, your voice cracking slightly. without another word, you slip out of the bathroom and into the bar and then out the front door. 
the cool night air hits your face as you push open the door and step outside, trying to steady your breathing. it’s a relief compared to the heat inside that bathroom. you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to think about everything that just happened and how you’re going to get home right now. 
“y/n!” his voice pulls you from your thoughts, and you turn to see him jogging toward you. before you can react, his hand catches your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. his grip is firm but not forceful, his eyes searching yours desperately. “please, talk to me.” 
you pull your wrist from his grasp, a lot harder than you had meant to, but you were angry and confused. “you don’t get to just walk back into my life like nothing happened, jake! you don’t get to just show up, fuck me, and act like—like you didn’t just leave me!”
ake flinches, his expression twisting with guilt. he runs a hand through his hair, looking down for a moment before meeting your gaze again. “i know,” he says softly. “i know i don’t deserve to just… come back like this. but y/n, i couldn’t stay away.”
“then why did you leave?” you demand, your voice cracking as you step back from him. “why did you disappear? you weren’t even home half the time anymore.” 
“because i was scared,” he’s blunt again, something you don’t recognize in the man you thought you knew, but you prefer it like this than him bottling it up and leaving. scared of how much i loved you. it was overwhelming, y/n. you were my whole world, and it terrified me. i mean, we were so young and, i didn’t know how to handle it, so i ran.”
your breath catches, tears stinging your eyes as his words sink in. “you hurt me, jake,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “you broke me.”
“i know,” he says, stepping closer, his expression full of regret. “and i’ve thought about you every day since i left. i just didn’t know how to fix it.”
his voice softens as he reaches for your hand, but he stops short, giving you the choice to take it. “but i’m here now, y/n and i’m not scared anymore. i love you.” 
you stare at him, his words hanging heavily in the space between you. part of you wants to push him away again, to protect yourself from the pain he’s already caused. but another part—the part that still remembers how he made you feel, how he made you laugh, how we always seemed to know you better than you knew yourself. 
“jake,” your voice weak, “you can’t just say you love me and expect it to fix everything. i mean, we dated years ago.” 
“i don’t,” jake jumps to say, “i know its not that simple, but i mean it y/n. and i had to tell you what i’ve been feeling for years, even if you don’t love me anymore.” 
you sigh, trying to sort all of your thoughts out. the person standing before you is no longer the boy you fell in love with all those years ago, even the simple interactions you’ve had with him so far you can tell he’s different. 
“it’s going to take time,” you start to say, finally, “but i can forgive you.” 
you see jake’s eyes light up in the dark night, he steps closer to you, his body heat warming yours. he takes your hands into yours, wanting you to focus only on him. “i’ll wait as long as it takes y/n. just tell me there’s a chance.” jake’s lip purse into a pout, wanting you to say yes to him. 
his round eyes looking up at yours makes you scoff, “yes jake, there’s a chance.” 
jake pulls your hands closer to him, making your body rush into his, making your faces only inches apart, “i won’t mess this up, y/n.” 
“i believe you.” 
“so… take two?” 
“take two— and it’ll be the only other take, jake!” 
“okay, okay, i believe you.” 
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snoopyracing · 3 days ago
Text
grapes and good fortune // ln4
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pairing: lando norris X reader
word count: 4.7k
warnings: cursing and alcohol use
includes: friends to lovers, mutual pining, and fluff
summary: when your plan to find love on new year's eve doesn't work a certain someone may just fix those plans.
a/n: surprise! here's a cute little lando nye fic for you! it was so fun to write and i hope you all enjoy :)
masterlist
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
It’s not the end of the world to be single. You’ve gone your whole life technically being single– each guy you’ve had a thing with never resulted in a full fledged relationship. It never really seemed to bother you that much, you’d learned to be more independent and learned that your time is in fact more valuable than men think. Though, as the years passed and your friends started to get into serious relationships you couldn’t help but feel a little left behind.
You knew everyone’s time would come and seriously you were in your early to mid twenties – you still had a whole lifetime ahead of you. But the third wheeling you seemed to be a professional at by now was starting to get embarrassing. Also, holidays just really seemed to suck while being single. You knew there was more to life than being in a relationship, but god dammit you’re a human. You crave love and affection and no matter how independent you are– you still want to love and be loved. 
Your friend group had unsuccessfully tried setting you up with more guys than you could count. Each one you really did try and give a chance, but there was nothing there. You didn’t think you had high standards by any means, but if you didn’t feel anything with these guys then why waste your time? 
“You went on how many dates this month and none of them piqued your interest?” Your friend grills you as the two of you are sitting on the balcony of your apartment. You’d come back from another unsuccessful date and decided to drown your sorrows with a bottle of wine and a yapping session. 
“Genuinely think there might be something wrong with me at this point.” You complain as you sip the sweet wine in your glass. 
“There isn’t anything wrong with you.” The two dates a week for the past month say different, but you weren’t going to actually disclose that number to her. “Maybe your heart has already laid claim to someone else?” 
“I think I would know if I was in love with someone.” She doesn’t say anything, but the way she inconspicuously sips her wine is telling you what she’s wanting to say. “Not this again.” 
She puts her hands up in defense all while having a shit eating grin on her face. “I didn’t even say anything, but you immediately assuming that’s who I’m talking about says it all.” 
“I’m not in love with Lando.” 
Yes you were. 
“I mean he’s one of my closest friends and it would just make things weird. He also for sure does not look at me in any way other than platonic. He’s got models flocking to him and literally thousands of other girls– I couldn’t compete.” Your friend remains silent once again as she sips her wine and watches the scene in front of her unfold. “Ok– just because I drunkenly admitted last year that I might possibly have a little tiny miniscule amount of feelings towards him does not mean I’m in love with him.” 
“Yes it does.” Your friend replies without missing a beat. 
“No it doesn’t” You say with a huff. 
“Y/N, babe. You don’t see what everyone else sees and maybe your brain is trying to protect itself from the small chance of destruction, but you two are so in love it’s actually ridiculous.” 
“I don’t think he’s looking for a relationship right now. If this season so far is any indication of what next season is gonna be like, do you really think he’ll want a serious relationship to juggle too?” You’d chugged the last bit of wine in your glass and immediately filled it back up. 
A loud scoff comes from your friend. “With some girl he just met? No. You are a whole different story though. You two have history and are quite literally each other’s person. Two peas in a pod. Match made in heaven.” 
You didn’t understand why your friend was so adamant about Lando and you getting together. What if it ended in flames and your friend group is stuck having to play children of divorce? You don’t want that. 
“Do you hear yourself right now? I think you’ve had too much wine because that’s not true.” 
She sits up on the edge of the wicker couch with an annoyed expression painted across her face  “Do you hear yourself? I’ve never seen someone deny themselves happiness like you.” 
“I don’t think I have actual feelings for Lando though. I really think it’s just because we are the only two single people in our friend group and it’s like I feel obligated to somehow have feelings for him. I just need to find the right person and whatever I may be feeling about Lando will go away.” 
If someone could professionally roll their eyes your friend would be a pro. “You’ve already found the right person though!”
Before you can argue back for the hundredth time tonight the familiar tune of an incoming facetime call fills the air. Your phone that’s sitting on the glass coffee table lights up and Lando’s face fills the screen. You glance over at your friend who’s got a smirk on her face that could rival the Cheshire Cat. 
“Speak of the devil.” She laughs. 
You let it ring, fully knowing that if you answer it your friend will be insufferable the whole time you’re talking to him. You do send him a quick text to make sure everything's alright and of course he immediately responds with-
everything's all right.. just missed you is all. 
Which has you locking your phone and stuffing it in the pocket of your hoodie. When you reach for your glass and realize it’s empty again you decide to just grab the bottle and drink straight from it. 
“Drinking from the bottle because you’ve come to terms with how dumb you’ve been?” Your friend teases. 
“Nope. It’s from having to deal with you all evening.” 
Alright so maybe you did have actual feelings for Lando, but you were never going to fully admit that to your friend or anyone else for that matter. You didn’t want to risk ruining what you two already had, which was an amazing friendship. So for the following months you continue to go on an endless amount of dates and with each one that fails your friend's voice rings in your mind.
Maybe you wouldn’t be able to find someone else if you subconsciously compared every guy to Lando. They were never funny enough or charming enough or took themselves too seriously. In the end it was simply the fact that they weren’t Lando. So maybe your heart had already dug its claws into Lando, but you weren’t going to give up without one last battle. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
New Year's Eve. The final night of the year and the one party of the year that celebrates ends and beginnings. You’d hoped that with the plan you had for tonight that your streak of horrible dates would end and the next one would be the one. The trend of eating twelve grapes under a table at midnight on New Year’s Eve had been all over your social media. According to the internet if you were to do this you’d find love or your soulmate the following year– which was something you were so desperate for. So, your said plan was to bring some grapes with you and find a table to sit under. 
As you were taking one last final look in the mirror a familiar British accent echoed through your apartment. “Are you almost ready?” 
You quickly slipped on your heels and grabbed your bag off the dresser, but by the time you turned around there stood Lando, leaning against your doorframe with a slight smirk on his face. “Been waiting forever. It’s gonna be next year by the time we get out of here.” 
His teasing, which usually always got a reaction out of you, was ignored. The sight of him had you frozen in your tracks for a moment. He had on a white button up, which he always looked good in, but it was the couple of undone buttons at the top and the necklace you got him for his birthday last year around his neck that got your attention. There was always something about seeing Lando in things you got him that made that funny feeling bloom in your stomach. Perhaps it was the fact that everytime he chose to wear them you knew he was thinking about you and that when he was away a part of you was always with him. 
“Quit staring.” 
You're knocked out of your trance and the blush that creeps onto your cheeks from getting caught is almost as embarrassing as being caught. “I wasn’t staring. I was admiring my good taste. Should have gotten one myself.” You try to play it off and push your way past him with what little amount of confidence you have at the moment. 
“I’ll get it for you, then we can be matching.” Lando says as he follows behind you. 
“I can buy it myself.” 
“Yeah, but I’m still gonna get it for you anyways.”
You stop in the kitchen and grab the little bag of grapes out of the fridge. “I don’t need you to get it for me Lan.” You’re too preoccupied with figuring out how to fit everything into your small purse to see the utterly confused look on Lando’s face. 
“Ok forget about the necklace. Why the hell are you bringing grapes with you?” 
“Incase I get hungry.” You reply without missing a beat. 
“There will literally be food at the party. I even made sure Max got those little cocktail sausages you like.” 
And there he goes again, making those feelings you’ve tried and are still presently trying to push down come to the surface all because of some damn cocktail sausages. “I appreciate that Lan, but I’ve been on a grape kick lately. Just can’t seem to get enough of them.” 
With your purse finally closed with the grapes securely inside, you head towards the door, more than ready to get to the party. 
“I’ll text Max and tell him to get some grapes delivered.” Lando mumbles as he closes the door behind him. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
You’d never considered yourself much of a party girl, but there must have been something in the air tonight because you were living it up. From the dancing to the drinking and then to top it off somehow in the middle of everything you showed off your DJing skills with Lando. 
Somehow you’d managed to unglue yourself from Lando for a moment and ended up in the kitchen among the various kinds of alcohol. You’re pouring the last bit of coke into your coke and malibu when Max comes up beside you. 
“I see you finally escaped from Lando for a moment.” 
An airy laugh emits from you. “Yeah, he’s been a little clingy tonight.” You state as you turn and lean back against the counter, facing the large crowd of people. 
Max copies your actions, but not before grabbing a beer. “What are you talking about tonight? When he’s back home it’s like you two are conjoined at the hip.”  Which was true, but you didn’t get to see Lando as much as you’d like, so you make the most of what you can. “Oh forgot to tell you, your grapes are in the fridge.” He motions towards the stainless steel appliance with his beer bottle. “Lando better pay me back. Do you know how much I paid to get that damn bag delivered? Absolutely insane.” 
Your mouth forms an ‘O’ shape at Max’s words. “I heard him mention something about asking you to get some when we were leaving. I thought he was just joking.” 
Max scoffs. “There is no such thing as Lando joking when it comes to you. Think he’d chop off his own arm to make sure you were happy. Hell if you needed an organ he’d be the first one in line to give you one.” 
This time it’s your turn to scoff. “No he wouldn’t.” 
“Why do you do that?” Max groans. 
You narrow your eyes at him, confused as to what he was referring to. “Do what?” 
“Act like he doesn’t think the world of you.” 
Your mouth opens to reply, but no words come out. Instead you bring your cup to your lips and fill the void with your drink. What Max had said was true, but you couldn’t help it. You figured if you forced yourself to think that Lando didn’t care that deeply about you, then those feelings that you harbor for him wouldn’t rise to the surface. It didn’t help that his behavior recently had you thinking that perhaps he felt the same about you and when you have your mutual friends in your ear implying that to be true it just makes things that much harder for you. 
“You probably haven’t even noticed that he’s been practically watching us talk this whole time have you?” 
You can feel your heart rate start to speed up just at the thought of it. As your eyes scan the room they finally land on the Brit standing in the corner with some other people, but he’s not actually engaging in the conversation, he’s too busy staring back at you. Somehow from across the room you can still see those pretty mixture of blue and green eyes of his sparkle and when he realizes you're finally looking back at him a shy smile spreads across his face before he’s quickly looking away. 
“Wish you two would stop dancing around each other and just admit what we all already know.” Max mumbles before taking a swig of his beer. 
Maybe it’s the mixture of alcohol and the fact that you’ve once again got someone in your ear about Lando and you, but you can sense those feelings starting to claw their way back up and you aren’t sure if you can push them back down tonight. 
“Ten minutes until midnight!” The DJ’s voice travels through the apartment and you’re sure Max will be getting some kind of fee taped to his door in the morning. 
Max says something about talking to you later before exiting the kitchen and you realize with ten minutes till midnight that you’ve got to get your grapes and find a table to fit under. For the moment you push Lando to the back of your mind and focus on your very important task at hand. 
Luckily for you Max had a decently sized dining table in his apartment so with your grapes in hand you crawled under the table, which thankfully was shielded by a tablecloth, and settled in for your feast. 
Lando on the other hand had been searching for you everywhere since the ten minute announcement. He’d literally just seen you in the kitchen with Max and then when he looked back again you were both gone. He’d gone in the bathrooms, the bedrooms, the closets, every single place he could think you would be and it’s like you had vanished. Max had a large apartment, especially to be living in London, but it wasn’t that big to allow for you to not be found. His texts to you had gone unanswered and he began to think maybe you had left, but he knew you would have told him if you were leaving, so that theory went out the window. 
When the five minute announcement hit his ears he began asking people if they had seen you and with each no or i think she was in the kitchen a while ago he received his hopes of finding you before midnight started to diminish. 
He’d finally worked up the courage to tell you how he’d felt tonight. After years of holding himself back and not wanting to ruin what you two already had, he’d decided that life was too short and that he would come to regret not allowing himself to truly love you like he should. He knew you were the one and there wasn’t a bone in his body that didn’t think you didn’t feel the same. So, he was finally going to bite the bullet tonight and he wanted you to be the person he was kissing as the clock struck twelve. But if he couldn’t find you, then how in the world was he supposed to do that? 
Lando was honestly starting to get worried over not being able to find you, screw the whole love confession at this point. What if something had happened to you? He’d been all over Max’s place countless times and he still couldn’t find you. With the official countdown echoing through the apartment he decided to just say fuck it and head to your place and see if you had gone home.
As he was heading to get his coat a familiar sparkly heel sticking out from under the dining table caught his attention. It was the same type of heels he’d seen you put on earlier and he did somewhat of a double take. He wondered if it was the couple drinks he’d had messing with him because why would you be sitting under Max’s dining table? 
He crouches down and slowly lifts the table cloth up, unsure of what he’s going to find underneath it. Everyone is only getting louder and with five seconds until midnight what he finds staring back at him under the table is not at all how he expected his night to end up. There you are with your now empty bag of grapes on the floor and your cheeks stuffed full of said grapes. You resemble something of a chipmunk and Lando can’t help but laugh at you. 
“What the hell are you doing down here?” 
The excessively loud shouting of happy new year from everyone while noise makers and confetti fill the air distract both Lando and you for a moment. He didn’t think this is the position he’d be in right now, he figured he’d be in that crowd with his lips on yours like so many others right now. While you on the other hand didn’t think you’d be caught in such an embarrassing situation, not to mention you hadn’t even gotten all your grapes down, so this stupid thing was probably all for nothing. 
His attention is back on you in no time and he really wants to know what you were doing. Were you that addicted to grapes that you had to hide under the table while you got your fix? If so, he may need to have a talk with you. 
“Seriously, why are you hiding under the table stuffing grapes into your mouth?” He prods again. 
Your mouth is still so full of the grapes that you can’t really talk and all you can manage to get out is leave while simultaneously trying to jab his leg with your heel. You were embarrassed and at this point scared you might choke on the grapes, and you’d rather go out in peace then have Lando cause a scene because you were choking. 
“Ouch!” Lando yelps as your heel finally makes contact with him. You know he’s being dramatic because you barely even kicked him, but you would try anything for him to drop that table cloth and let you be. “Come on, come out from under there.” Lando grabs your arm and practically forces you to come out from under the table.
Luckily, everyone else was too preoccupied with still ringing in the New Year to see you crawl out and as you dust yourself off you're still chomping on the last couple grapes left. The party only seems to be getting crazier and you don’t really feel like staying here until the party inevitably ends at an ungodly hour in the morning, especially now that your plan for love has undoubtedly failed. 
You finally swallow the last couple grapes and take a deep breath, the fear of choking and embarrassment now behind you. “Do you care if I leave? Not really feeling the party that much anymore.” 
Lando doesn’t even question your request. “I’ll walk you home, let me grab our coats and tell Max we are leaving.” 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The cold England air hits you as you exit Max’s apartment building and you’re thankful that your place isn’t very far from his. It’s silent between Lando and you for some time, the sound of your heels on the pavement, fireworks in the distance, and other people celebrating are the only things you two hear. 
“Can I ask you something?” Lando finally breaks the silence. 
“Shoot.” 
He takes a deep breath fully knowing once he opens this locked away side of him that there’s no going back. “Have you ever thought about us?” 
You feel your heart skip a beat at his question, yet you try to remain cool and collected. “What do you mean?” 
He stops in his tracks causing you to mimic his actions. “Like,” he motions between the two of you, “us.”
There’s not a doubt in your mind about what he’s referring to and yes you do think about the two of you. Yet your brain feels scrambled once you're actually confronted with the possibility of Lando feeling the same as you. You’d tried so hard to ignore the feelings, hell you’d tried something you saw on the internet to hopefully bring a different man into your life to finally squash those feelings. You’d just never thought you’d be in this position though and it’s throwing you into a whirlwind. 
Lando isn’t sure what your silence means and he figures he’s already started, he might as well just fully admit it at this point. 
“Fuck it. I told myself I was going to do this tonight and I’m not gonna chicken out again.” His cheeks are rosy from the cold and you can tell by the way his pretty eyes dart all around your face that he’s trying to figure out how to say what he wants to say. “I’ve got feelings for you.” He finally blurts out.
“No scratch that I’m in love with you Y/N. Think I have been for some time now. I’ve tried telling you how I felt for what seems like ages, but I’ve always been too scared to. I’ve been afraid that you wouldn’t feel the same and to me I’d rather bottle up my feelings and keep you in my life then tell you how I feel and lose you. But clearly I’ve grown tired of that and realized that the reward would be higher than the risk. You’re my person Y/N. I couldn’t imagine life without you and to have you be mine would make life that much better. So here I am baring my heart to you on some street in London on New Year’s Eve. I actually had a whole plan on how I was-” 
His rambling while you loved most of the time was cut off by your desire to shut him up with your lips on his and you did just that. You grabbed him by his coat and pulled him into you, your lips crashing together. It takes him a moment to realize what's happening, but when his brain finally starts to work and he kisses you back it’s everything you could have imagined and more.
Kissing Lando is like heaven on Earth and the way his soft lips feel against yours has you wishing you would have just stopped being so stubborn and listened to your friends ages ago. His large warm hands come out of his pockets and he cups your face as he deepens the kiss, which has you feeling lightheaded and warm all over. 
There’s fireworks being let off not too far away that light up the sky above you, but you’re too engrossed in each other to pay them much mind. It’s truly like a scene straight out of a movie and you know you’ll remember this moment forever. 
You two finally pull away to breathe and it’s like you can see the world in a whole new way. The depressing grey landscape of London in the winter time suddenly looks like it was painted in technicolor and neither of you can wipe the cheek hurting grin off your faces. “So I guess you feel the same?” He asks. 
“Yes Lando Norris, I’m in love with you too. Have been for a while and like you I didn’t want to ruin what we already have. To me there was no possible way that you felt the same and I hate rejection and the idea of losing you. So, I went on a million dates trying to find someone that would replace how I felt about you, but I guess you can’t replace someone who your heart has already laid claim to.” 
You feel Lando intertwine your fingers with his and it’s like everything just feels right in the world. 
“I’m glad we stopped being so stubborn and that I don’t have to see you out with all those random guys anymore.” 
“Believe me, none of them even came close to comparing to you. It was like going on a date with a sack of potatoes most of the time.” 
His infectious laugh fills your ears and you feel your heart swell. You can’t believe this was what you were depriving yourself of for so long. 
The rest of the walk back to your apartment is spent walking hand in hand. All while little giggles escape each of you ever so often and Lando occasionally kisses you on the head or lifts your intertwined hands up to plant a kiss there. 
“I have to ask again. It’s really been bugging me. What were you doing under that table?” Lando asks as you near your apartment building. A loud groan emits from you and there isn’t anything less that you would want to talk about than that. “Come on, just tell me!” 
“Fine! I saw this thing on the internet that if you eat twelve green grapes under a table at midnight that it’s supposed to bring you luck in the love department in the New Year. Like you’d find your soulmate or something. I was so desperate to try and get over these feelings I have for you so what we had wouldn’t be ruined that I was willing to try anything.” 
He’s silent for a moment and then he looks at you with the biggest smile on his face. “Well I’d say it worked didn’t it? You’ve found love and not to be overzealous, but I’d say your soulmate too.” 
You’re stunned for a moment when you realize that yes, the grapes did work, just not in the way you planned. The universe had put Lando in your life years ago and for some weird reason had you wait this long to finally truly be in one another's lives, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Hell, you’d eat a whole package of grapes if that meant Lando and you got to be together in every lifetime. 
“They did, didn't they? I guess almost choking to death was worth it in the end.” 
“I mean I know I’m every woman’s dream, but you didn’t almost have to kill yourself to get my attention baby.” 
You playfully slap his arm as he laughs at you. That big head of his was sometimes fully ego and you realized you were going to have to put up with it all the time now. “Oh shut up.” 
“Yeah, but you love me.” He states before pressing a kiss to your lips, which has your mind feeling like TV static once again. 
When you pull away and look him in the eyes there’s nothing but pure love staring back at you and you know that this is who is meant to be in your life, till the end. “More than you’ll ever know.” 
The next morning you receive a group text from Max with Lando and you in it.  
max: why have i found an empty bag with what looks to be a grape stem in it under my dining table??? i fully know it was one of you.
you: i don’t know what you're talking about. 
lando: me either. no grapes were consumed by us last night. must have been someone else. 
997 notes · View notes
salvieslovenotes · 3 days ago
Text
Blame it on the sun pt.1
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summary: you and Vi have been best friends for years, which is fine, only you also happen to be a teensy bit in love with her. You're handling it, except a road-trip and a week at the beach might just prove to be the tipping point... pairing: fem!reader x vi (arcane) contains: modern!au, collage!au, road-trip/beach!au, friends to lovers. 2k a/n: i haven't written before so please be gentle! this is a part one, where i am it's super sunny and i was at the beach and suddenly thought about a vi beach au and wrote this in my notes app. sorry not proofread! might do part two/three soon xox
‘Say it again,’ Caitlyn instructs.
You sigh, exasperated. ‘Cait, this so isn't gonna work.’
‘It is!’ Caitlyn insists. It's hard to take her seriously from where she's seated on her yoga mat, in the lotus position and glaring you with a determined gleam in her eye. ‘This is your mantra. You're pulling in all the strong, independent energy. Go on! Say it!’
‘This is ridiculous.’
‘Say it!’
‘I am sexy and fearless,’ you say, giving Caitlyn a flat look.
‘And…’ Caitlyn prompts.
You huff another sigh. ‘And I will not spend the whole week pining after Violet.’
‘You won’t,’ Caitlyn affirms. ‘You're too good for that.’ Her smile turns soft. ‘Just relax and have a brilliant time.’
Caitlyn, your college roommate, really is the most patient woman on the planet, and who's been subjected to more than a few of your Vi-related rants. You and Caitlyn aren’t in any classes together but met at pilates, and she's been the best roommate you've ever had. She’s also the only person who knows how you feel about Vi.
It's just... you needed to tell someone. You and Vi have been best fiends for years, since you were small. You grew up together, went to school together, moved away to college together, have the same group of friends. You played in each other’s paddling pools at three years old for god’s sake.
Right now you're waiting for her and your friends to pick you up, and then you're all going to spend a week of summer break on the coast.
You love Vi, of course you do. Only the tiny, totally insignificant problem is that you're also in love with her.
It's fine. You can totally handle this. You have your mantra and everything.
It's not like you haven't tried to get over the way you feel. At first it was just a little crush. So, when your first high school boyfriend asked you out, you said yes. And you liked him, you really, really did.
But your feelings for Vi didn't go away... they just stayed. They just got stronger. But you're best friends, and she doesn't feel the same. You're friends. So you've become excellent at shoving your feelings down, excellent at dating around here and there, excellent at swallowing your jealousy when Vi has another hookup.
She's never dated seriously, but, as captain of the university’s football team, people know who she is. Unfortunately, being on the cheerleading squad, you get to hear just what the girls think of her. Just how they pine for her after a hook up. It's irritating, them always asking you if she's mentioned them, if she's interested. But you've got this. You accept every few of the dates you get asked on, hoping that maybe this time it'll work. That they'll make you forget Vi.
Only they never do.
You're starting to think maybe no one will.
But you're good—you're excellent at pretending. If you happen to slip up and moan to Caitlyn about it then so what. That's what roommates are for. You always make Caitlyn’s on-again-off-again girlfriend, Maddie, pancakes in the morning when Caitlyn is sleeping in.
‘You'll be fine,’ Caitlyn reminds you, eyes soft. ‘Give me a call if you wanna moan. Or put on that little thing that can barely be called a skirt I know you’ve packed, make the whole club want you and she'll regret her whole life.’
‘Ha ha,’ you snort. Vi won't obviously, but Caitlyn’s gentle teasing makes you smile all the same.
There's a loud beep of a car horn from outside.
‘Oh. Guess that's me.’ You grab your bag, swinging the strap over your shoulder and looking around, trying to think if you've forgotten anything.
‘Suncream?’ asks Caitlyn, moving into downward dog with practiced ease. ‘Second bikini? Book? Rose quartz? Passport?’
‘Passport?’ you echo, distracted, checking your bag for the millionth time. There's another loud honk from outside. ‘But we're not leaving the country…?’
Caitlyn makes a shrugging movement. It looks funny from her current position. ‘You never know. Prepare for anything.’
‘Right,’ you laugh, but grab your passport just in case on your way out, calling, ‘bye love!’
‘Remember your mantra!’ Caitlyn yells just as you slam the door of your little flat.
Hurrying down the steps, you find Vi's beaten-up red jeep idling in the middle of the street.
She's twisted around in her seat as you pull open the door, arguing over music with Ekko, Claggor and Mylo, your friends you met at uni. Powder got a scholarship to Oxford for chemical engineering, and so you only see her over the long Christmas break, but you all call often.
‘What's wrong with Sabrina?’ Claggor asks defensively. He's going through a current obsession - his music tastes change weekly based on the girl he's sweet on at the time. Right now, it's Sabrina Carpenter. Juno has been on repeat.
‘Not again,’ groans Ekko. ‘Hey,’ he adds, nodding at you as you drop your bag on the floor of the front seat and swing in next to Violet. ‘Tell him, would you?’
‘I like Juno,’ you shrug, grinning
Ekko groans again, tossing his hands up as Claggor lets out a triumphant ha!
‘It’s good!’ you laugh as Vi makes a loud scoffing noise. It makes you smile; you happen to know Sabrina occupies a significant portion of her workout playlist.  
Something clenches in your chest at the sight of her. She looks unfairly good, wearing a singlet that shows off her tattoos and arms. Around her neck she's wearing a necklace you brought back for her from holiday one time; it's got a mother-of-pearl pendant, and the slightly crazy lady who sold it to you said it carried protective power from giver to receiver.
‘So I’ll be protecting you always,’ you'd said as you gave it to Vi, laughing. It had been a joke, obviously, but her voice was soft as she thanked you. And she hasn't taken it off since. Not once.
Apparently, one time she had a fit before a game when the clasp broke and it fell without her noticing. Ekko, who's also on the team, told you with a funny expression you couldn't decipher that Vi refused to play until she found it.
‘I suppose everyone has funny pregame rituals,’ you shrugged it off. Tying left shoelaces before right, tapping their locker three times.
Still, it makes your heart kick a little faster every time you see the necklace on her.
‘Damn Princess, way to make us all suffer,’ she says, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. It’s an old nickname, left over from the Princess-themed sixth birthday party you had. Vi turns back to the front, glancing at you quickly then whipping back so fast she’s in danger of damaging something, and she stares at your top for a second, eyes wide.
‘Uh...?’ you say, cautious and more than a little confused.
Vi sort of coughs, heat flooding her cheeks. ‘Nothing.’ Turning to face the road, she clears her throat a good three times. ‘Right, everyone ready? Let’s go then.’ She puts the car into gear as you buckle in.
From the backseat you hear Ekko snort. ‘Nice top,’ he says dryly.
You look down at your halterneck. The pattern has small holes everywhere, like a lacy curtain, and maybe it's a bit much normally, particularly as you can’t wear a bra with it, but you figured as you're going to the beach, it’s fine. Powder crocheted it herself and sent it as a gift for your birthday, along with a vaguely threatening and capitalised instruction to MAKE SURE YOU WEAR IT ON YOUR BEACH TRIP. So... here you are, following instructions.
‘Thanks,’ you say to Ekko. ‘Powder made it.’
Vi mutters something you can't quite catch but sounds vaguely like I'm gonna kill her.
‘I love that girl,’ sighs Mylo with a snigger.
As Vi turns off onto the next street, you connect Claggor’s phone, and as Sabrina starts playing you roll down your window and settle back.
Some time later, everyone’s playing fuck-marry-kill to pass the time on the long drive, and Vi’s laughing at something Mylo says. It's almost perfect. If you ignore Vi beside you, the way her hand rests on the gear stick, one elbow on the windowsill as she loosely grips the steering wheel. It's warm; sun pouring through the windows and you’re trying really hard not to stare at veins on her arms, when suddenly she brushes a hand over your thigh.
The gasp that escapes your mouth is frankly mortifying.
Alarmed, you glance around at her to find Vi frowning at you, confused.
‘D’you mind?’
‘Huh?’
‘Uh...’ she makes a face, a small amused smile tugging at her lips, crooked and slipping to one side. ‘I asked if you could get my sunglasses. They're in the front pocket.’
‘Oh. Yep. Sure can do,’ you say hurriedly, fetching them for her and mentally kicking yourself.
You need to get it together.
It's fine.
I’m not gonna pine, I’m not gonna pine, I’m not gonna pine, you repeat in your head. You're distracted enough that you're starting to think Caitlyn has a point with the whole mantra thing, but then...
Then Vi does something completely inane and absolutely devastating (literally just runs her hand through her hair), her bicep bunching as she raises her arm in a way that's unholy, a sight that belongs in a strip club not a sun-filled front seat on a random Tuesday morning. You turn hastily to the window, heart hammering and mouth suddenly very dry.
Oh this is so not fine.
_______________
Damn Little Mix. Damn them to hell.
No one should be dancing like that, to fucking Little Mix of all groups. Like, really. The way your hips are swaying should be studied by hypnotists, because Vi cannot drag her eyes away.
It's magnetic, sensual and playful all in one heady rush. Every time she thinks she’s used to you, thinks she’s got this... yearning for you under control, you go and do something inane, you smile, roll your eyes, nudge her shoulder, and she’s falling all over again.
It feels like she’s fallen so many times. It can’t get any stronger, she can’t feel any more than this—and then somehow she does.
But you’re friends. Friends don’t think about each other like that. Friends don’t have to bite back the other’s name while sleeping with someone else. Friends don’t fall asleep dreaming about each other.
You’re friends, so she shouldn’t go insane when you simply lay a hand on her shoulder, or nudge her hip. Shouldn’t catch herself staring at your mouth and thinking about it against hers—
Nope. Nope, she’s not doing this. Right now, she's busy being mad at fucking Little Mix, who clearly have got it out for her.
What makes it worse is that you two have always been exceptionally close. People often mistake you for being together as a couple, and Vi always tries to laugh it off, make a joke out of it, when in reality it burrows through her like a blade.
Because that's what she wants, it's all she’s ever wanted.
But because of that, how there's always been an easy casualness between you, how your relationship has always been a little touchy-feely, Vi doesn't need to imagine what it would feel like to have you close, she knows.
It’s worse. It’s so much worse. She knows how well her hands fit into the curve of your waist. She knows what the swell of your hips feels like.
Sometimes she can’t help herself, imagining sinking her teeth into the soft flesh, the sounds you'd make. The way you'd moan her name.
Sometimes she feels she's going mad, wanting you. Wanting you when you're right there. Sometimes she feels she is mad already. She'd accidentally broken a mirror last time you introduced her to your latest fling, a boy from another uni you’d met a match. The way he wrapped his arms around you made Vi want to rip his hands off. They touched you. They shouldn't get to do that.
Fuck.
She downs the rest of her drink, swallowing painfully. You’re camping at a beach for a night, mid-way along the coast to your destination. Everyone’s around a fire, stars twinkling in the velvet sky. Mylo has his speaker turned down low, not to disturb the other people on the beach. Firelight flickers across your skin, giving you an otherworldly glow.
Desire and yearning twist inside Vi into something painful, something tinged with ragged desperation. Her hands are shaking slightly where she’s gripping onto her cider can so tightly she accidently crushes it. She's not really sure what's wrong with her.
You're just... dancing. That’s all. Just dancing.
Laughing, swaying in the firelight, twirling as Ekko raises your arm to spin you by the hand.
It feels like Vi’s heart is sitting on her tongue, she has to keep swallowing it back down. Try as she might, she can't look away.
‘Pretty isn't she,’ says Claggor. He sounds slightly amused. Everyone but you seems to know she's got a thing for you. That she's always had a thing for you.
‘She's beautiful,’ Vi hears herself say–confess. She can’t help it; it’s true.
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accioharrington9 · 2 days ago
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we can't be friends (but i'd like to just pretend)
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pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
prompt: four times you spent a holiday with your best friend Steve Harrington and one time you didn't and missed him.
word count: 10.2k
warnings: friends-to-lovers, everyone can see it (including steve and reader but they're both kind of in denial), mutual pining, characters in their mid-twenties, fluff and (some) emotional angst, steve uses a cheesy nickname for reader, mentions of partying and alcohol consumption, some swearing, no use of y/n
notes: hi all, this is the first reader fic that i publish here, so bear with me, i tried my best <3 in light of the year-end celebrations, this fun little idea of a fic came to me and i decided to give it a shot, so i hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it <3
🥂🥂🥂
“What are your resolutions for the new year?”
You looked up from your glass of champagne when Steve asked you that question out of the blue. You were both leaning against the kitchen island at Nancy and Jonathan’s apartment, distractedly observing your friends playing a drinking game you had both stepped out of.  You were glad to allow your friends their fun, but mostly, to have a reason to get some alone time, just the two of you. A silent agreement, as always.
“You know I don’t believe in resolutions,” you answered before bringing a flute smudged by your red lipstick to your lips.
“Oh, come on, kitten, humor me for a second.”
You raised an eyebrow at him while he waited for your response with a cheeky smile. You heard Robin burst into laughter from the living room, but you were too focused on Steve’s loose strand of hair and the woody scent of his new cologne to acknowledge it.
“Fine,” you obliged him. “Well, I resolve to quit drinking coffee, exercise more, and buy a new and well-functioning car.”
“You’re full of shit,” Steve laughed. “Like you’re ever going to get rid of Gina.”
“Of course I’m not getting rid of Gina, she’s my ride-or-die,” you said, referring to your personified old car.
“Yeah, emphasis on ‘die’ – you're missing a rearview mirror in there.”
You nudged him playfully, briefly losing your balance but Steve helped steady you immediately, putting a hand on your hips that hovered there longer than necessary. You chuckled for good measure but couldn’t help the heat that rushed to your face.
Everyone knew you and Steve had a thing for each other. It had been that way since high school – lingering looks in the hallway between classes, overly tactile during a mundane conversation, pretending to forget something at the other’s house to have a reason to go there again… Everyone knew it, was used to it, and never mentioned anything about it – you and Steve included.
Nothing had ever happened because the timing was always off. If it wasn’t Steve who was dating someone, you were; then you moved away to go to college, and when you came back to Hawkins after graduating, Steve had just left for an internship in New York. Eventually, you grew tired of the never-ending “what-ifs” and made your peace knowing that Steve Harrington would always be more than just a friend but less than a lover. A fine line you both tiptoed in and out of too much over the past eight years.
“What about you?” you eventually asked Steve. “You’re corny as shit, you must have a lot of them resolutions in mind.”
“I only thought of a couple, and they’re not that corny.”
“Let me be the judge of that.”
Steve laughed again, running a hand through his hair as he reflected on what he’d say. You admired him while he did so. It was frustrating, still having that teenage crush on your longtime friend, not being able to let it go, not entirely at least. You sometimes wished you could be his friend the way Robin was to him, or Eddie was to you. It would make it all so much easier, so much less painful than this in two minds you were both stuck in, this blatant desire for more, this fear that it could all be ruined in seconds, poor decisions fragmenting the illusion of a blissful friendship.
“I thought about learning how to play the guitar.”
“Cliché,” you teased. “What else?”
You could see the turn the conversation had taken when Steve hesitated before talking – looked nervous, even.
“Moving out. Getting my own place.”
You stared at Steve, quiet. You couldn’t say you were surprised – he’d been roommates with Eddie since they both enrolled in community college a few years ago. Even after graduating and getting a job, they stayed that way, because it was simple; splitting the bills, having someone to talk to after a lonely day. But it could only work for so long. It was only a matter of time until one or the other got bored and needed a change of scenery. To you, it was no surprise Steve had that revelation first.
“You sound serious,” was the only comment you could express.
“Because I am,” Steve said. “I started looking at one-bedroom apartments to rent in the neighborhood.”
“Does Eddie know?” you asked.
Steve pursed his lips as he shook his head from left to right. You hummed and couldn’t help but look at the young man in question, with his curly hair tied back in a bun and his poor imitation of some football player his team had to guess the name of. You loved this friend group – you loved the dynamic, the hijinks, and the stability. You loved hanging out with Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan at Eddie and Steve's apartment. You loved everything about it and the thought of losing your bearings, of disrupting your habits, made you too sad for the 31st of December, five minutes away from another midnight of confetti, embraces, and promises.
“You’re the first person I told,” Steve eventually said, breaking the silence that had settled between you two. “I thought you could share some of that wisdom you have to advise me.”
You snorted, lazily knocking your shoulder against his arm. “You buttering up to me, Harrington?”
“Only if it’s working.”
You got lost in his beautiful brown eyes, aware of the subtlest things, like his pinky finger brushing your hand timidly, the mint toothpaste on his breath, or how perfectly he wore the sweater you gifted him. It felt so right, standing close to him and toying with the possibility of the unknown. It always did with Steve.
“Okay guys, it’s officially one minute away from midnight, gather ‘round!!” Nancy exclaimed, clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention.
Reluctantly, you left the little bubble of peace and happiness you had created in the kitchen, Steve following closely behind. As you started counting down from ten, surrounded by all your closest and dearest friends, you only had eyes for Steve.
It had become a habit since you first celebrated New Year’s Eve with him years ago – you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d kiss you at midnight. It was a fantasy you’d entertained ever since you were eighteen, the final and first thought of each year that passed without ever becoming real. Each year, naively, you thought it’d be different. But each year, it was the same old song all over again.
As the clock struck midnight and cheers erupted among the friend group, you hugged everyone. You saved the best ‘til last, heart beating frantically as Steve wrapped his arms around you. You buried your face in his neck, getting drunk on his cologne – pathetic, disillusioned.
“Happy New Year, kitten,” Steve whispered in your ear before kissing your cheek – soft, tender, and terribly platonic, as usual.
“Happy New Year, Harrington,” you kissed his cheek in return, the trace of your lipstick leaving a mark on his skin like a temporary tattoo.
And you were too busy thinking about the undone to notice that this year, Steve held you in his arms a little longer than usual.
🌹🌹🌹
“Bro-lentine’s Day?”
“Is that one of those boys band they keep talking about on the radio?"
You held back a laugh at Steve’s question and Eddie’s comment regarding the odd suggestion Robin had just made. The four of you were waiting in line at a Wendy's drive-thru in Steve’s car, the crescent moon shining its feeble light in the night sky above.
“Why would you even think about spending Valentine’s Day with your loser single friends when you have a beautiful girlfriend you could shower with gifts?” Eddie asked, to which Steve, behind the wheel, concurred immediately.
“I mean, I obviously love you guys, but I mostly suggest that because Vickie’s working a night shift on the 14th and I figured it’d be nice to hang out together, the four of us, instead of just… I don’t know, being alone?” Robin admitted.
“Oh, so we’re your stand-ins?” Eddie exclaimed, feigning offense under your amused attention. “Classy, Buckley.”
“That sounds a hell of a lot like a pity party, Rob,” Steve pointed out.
You laughed along as Robin kept putting her foot in her mouth. It was often like that – Robin and Eddie gently bickering in the back seats while you exchanged knowing looks with Steve, in your designated seat at the front of the car.
The only difference was this time, when Steve searched for your eyes to have a silent laugh with you, you avoided his gaze, pretending to look in the distance, thinking about something you needed to say to him but couldn’t find the courage to.
“Okay, fine,” Eddie eventually yielded. “Let’s do this thing. But I have one condition – we go to Steve’s new apartment.”
“Excellent idea!” Robin exclaimed, enthusiastic.
“I told you guys, I’m not done unboxing my stuff, the place is a mess,” Steve argued as he started the ignition to move forward.
Robin rolled her eyes. “You say that like you have a thousand boxes.”
“It's his plethora of hair products - they take up a lot of room,” Eddie teased, which made Robin snort.
“You’re both hilarious, seriously, I can’t stop laughing,” Steve said with a straight face.
“So, it’s a deal,” Eddie said. “Bro-lentine’s Day at Steve’s new place – no, I’m sorry Rob, you’ll have to find another name, I hate how it sounds when it comes out of my mouth.”
“What do you think, babes?”
You only focused back on the conversation when Robin called your name, looking away from the constellations in the sky.
“Hmm? Oh, I’m sorry babes but count me out of this one,” you said with a sorry smile.
Robin laughed, thinking you were probably messing with her. Steve was driving slowly now that the line ahead finally seemed to clear.
“Right, because you have something better to do on Valentine’s Day, of course,” Robin joked while Eddie chuckled.
You tried not to take offense because you knew it was some innocent banter, but it didn’t stop you from frowning.
“Actually, yes, I do,” you contradicted. “I have a date that day.”
The car braked abruptly, causing a blast of horns from the vehicle behind and surprised yelps from the back seats.
“What the fuck, Harrington??” Eddie ranted. “That’s why I keep telling you you’re a shit driver, seriously, how did you manage to get your license, man?"
“Sorry, I got… distracted for a sec’,” Steve apologized.
You couldn’t bear to look Steve in the eye, so you toyed with the bracelets around your wrists and stared at your shoes, waiting for your friends’ reaction to the news.
“Is it someone we know?” Robin asked bluntly. “It’s the cute guy from the music shop at the mall, isn’t it? I knew he had a crush on you, you’re the only one who got Like a Prayer for half price.”
“It was… actually a twenty-percent discount,” you corrected, even though none of your friends cared about that information.
“Who even asks someone out on Valentine’s Day?” Eddie asked himself out loud. “We have three hundred and sixty-five days a year, why choose this nightmare of a commercialized day deliberately?”
“I think it’s cute,” Robin shrugged.
You attempted a smile, but it was nowhere near convincing. Robin and Eddie weren’t even paying attention to you anymore, discussing with each other the pros and cons of a first date on the 14th of February. You gathered the courage to look at Steve, decipher his expression. He might’ve been trying to get your attention a moment ago, but now, he was just staring in front of him, both hands firmly holding the lower part of the wheel.
“So, you’re really going to abandon me with these two idiots, huh?”
Your laugh at Steve’s rhetorical question was a mix of amusement and relief. If there was one thing that meant more than anything to you, it was the harmony between you two. You knew that as soon as you or Steve dated someone, that harmony was threatened. It had happened before. It was a fatality.
“You’ll be just fine,” you assured softly. “It’s just one night.”
Steve chuckled, finally making it to the pickup window. “Yeah, you’re right. Just one night. Easy-peasy.”
At that moment, you couldn’t have imagined that on the 14th of February, you’d find yourself knocking on Steve’s door at ten in the evening, makeup ruined by your disappointed tears, holding tight to your coat and shame in the cold evening air.
When Steve opened the door and saw you standing before him, he blinked at the unexpected sight of you sniffing and shivering.
“What are you doing here, kitten? Is everything okay?”
As soon as you heard Steve’s voice and the concern he displayed, it was out of your control – another tear rolled down your cheek.
“Oh no. Come here.”
You didn’t need to be asked twice- when Steve opened his arms at you, you dived in, letting him hug you tight, accepting his warmth and empathy.
“Dude stood you up?” Steve asked, voice muffled as his face was buried in your hair.
“Worse,” you said. “He was there.”
Steve huffed, because it could’ve been a funny anecdote if not for the dried mascara that ran under your eyes.
“So, we’re not going to the music shop again, huh?”
“I never said it was the guy from the music shop,” you pointed out.
“You never denied it either.”
You snorted and you felt Steve smile against your head. He was the first to part from your embrace, but you were under the impression he could’ve stayed like that much longer.
“What’s taking so long, dingus?” Robin shouted from the living room. “You need help with the pizzas?”
“It’s not the pizzas,” Steve retorted as you stepped inside the apartment.
Both Robin and Eddie turned around on the couch and looked equally surprised to see you there.
“Is it okay if I crash Bro-lentine’s Day?” you asked sheepishly.
“We’re not calling it that!” Eddie said in a singsong.
“You’re more than welcome to crash Bro-lentine’s Day, babes,” Robin told you while wrapping her arm around your shoulders as you sat next to her.
“I give up,” Eddie sighed before heading for the kitchen.
“What did the loser do to get you like that?” Robin inquired, touching your face where the tears had dried.
“Honestly, he wasn’t even that bad,” you explained. “He just… wasn’t what I expected. I guess I’m tired of getting my hopes up and ending up disappointed every time.” You paused, reflecting on that state of mind. “It’s stupid, I know.”
“It’s not stupid,” Robin contradicted with a sympathetic smile. “It’s Valentine’s Day, anyone would’ve expected a perfect date.”
“Hence why you don’t date on that doomed day.”
“Can’t you just let it go already, Eddie??”
You smiled softly at your friends’ innocent quarrel, and you realized in the end, there were no other people you’d rather spend the day of love and romance with.
So, you settled comfortably on the couch in Steve’s new apartment, surrounded by dozens of wrapped boxes and your closest friends with a glass of wine and a cheesy movie to watch, sharing the details of your date with them.
“Well, his loss, darling, not yours,” Eddie said in conclusion to your story.
“Definitely,” Robin nodded.
You smiled lightly and you thought maybe, just maybe, they were right.
“Why are you smiling like that, Harrington?” Eddie then asked.
“Hmm? Oh, no reason,” Steve answered casually before finding a tiny spot between you and Robin on the couch.
🎉🎉🎉
There was nothing more frustrating than being late to meet your friends and having your car’s engine make that hideous sputtering sound as you kept putting the key in the ignition without it ever starting.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” you echoed in sync with the car’s noises.
“I see Gina’s being cranky today.”
You glared at Steve, sitting in the passenger seat and enjoying himself a little too much.
“It’s too hot outside, she doesn’t like it when it’s too hot,” you explained to yourself more than Steve.
“It’s the 4th of July, kitten. It’s always hot on the 4th of July.”
“Thank you so much for this enlightening forecast, Harrington, have you ever considered a career in meteorology?”
You bit your lip when you realized how harsh your comeback had sounded. You slowly turned your head to lay regretful eyes on your friend.
“Sorry,” you winced.
“You’re good. I think I know why Gina’s cranky today – she takes from her owner.”
You rolled your eyes but didn’t bother denying it.
The sun was starting to set in a sky adorned with pink and orange hues only summer could take credit for. The air was hot, crickets chirping and bees buzzing while the whole town was already busying itself in preparation for the incoming festivities.
For the past six years, on Independence Day, you’ve met all your friends by the lake on the outskirts of Hawkins to have a barbecue with beers and watch the fireworks. It was a tradition you all honored religiously each Fourth of July.
Except this year, Robin was celebrating with Vickie’s family, Eddie was working at the music camp, which meant you were spending the evening with Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve, a group hangout that looked an awful lot like a double date, and it worked yourself up into quite a state.
“Did you get the Buds?” you asked Steve as the ignition still wouldn’t start.
“Packs in the trunk,” Steve answered straight off.
“And the blankets?”
“In the backseat.”
“The radio for the music?”
“Nance’s taking care of it.”
You fell back in your seat after failing one too many times to start the car and just closed your eyes, sighing heavily. You wiped your hands on your shorts, the summer heat getting the best of you, chest heaving and patience hanging by a thread.
“We can take my car tonight, maybe Gina needs the rest,” Steve suggested. It irritated you even more.
“We always take your car, tonight’s the one night a year we take mine,” you argued, putting the keys in the ignition again.
“We’ll take yours another time, then, it’s no big deal.”
“No,” you just said.
Without a heads-up, you got out of the vehicle. Steve followed you as you opened the hood to check the engine. You were rough in your endeavor, hair falling out on your face and hands quickly stained with oil.
“Why are you being so stubborn today?” Steve asked you, tone cutting sharp like a knife.
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are! You can tell as much as I can your car’s not going anywhere tonight, mine’s parked right behind and ready to go, so why are we losing time for nothing?”
“She’s just being picky right now but I’m getting there. She needs a little boost and she’s good to go,” you insisted, wiping the back of your hand on your forehead before realizing it’d smudge the oil.
“Yeah, sure, at this rate, she’ll be good to go for Thanksgiving,” Steve said ironically.
You shut the hood close abruptly, shooting daggers at Steve as he stood in front of you with his arms crossed. He looked just as irritated as you did.
“You’re being an asshole,” you stated matter-of-factly.
Steve snickered, eyebrows raising like he couldn’t believe what he just heard.
“Oh, I’m the asshole in this situation? You’re a fine one to talk!”
“Are you seriously turning the tables on me right now?!”
“I’m not, you’re clearly in a mood today and you’re taking it out on me! Last I heard, I’m not a punching bag!”
Your face twisted into a scowl because Steve annoyed you a great deal, but mostly because he was right. You were far from being good company today, and today was meant to be fun, chill, eventful. You could blame it all on Gina, but you knew that was just the tip of the iceberg.
“I’m just saying I’m going to get the car started just fine, all I need is a few minutes to figure it out. And we’re already late anyway, they won’t hate us for the extra ten minutes,” you said as you opened the hood again.
“This is not about the car and we both know it,” Steve stated, sure of himself. Of course, he was – he knew you like the back of his hand.
You closed the hood as soon as you opened it, walking closer to Steve to face him properly.
“Maybe you should take it easy if you want her to work, you know,” Steve remarked.
“Why don’t you just say what’s on my mind, Steve? Since you apparently know it better than I do,” you hit him with your words.
“But that’s just the thing! I don’t!” Steve exclaimed, his voice raising an octave. “I don’t know what’s going on with you right now and you won’t tell me a goddamn thing!”
“You already know what’s going on with me, I made it perfectly clear – I want my fucking car to start so we can go and meet our friends, as we do every year!”
“And I made it perfectly clear that we can take my car, so why are we still arguing about this??”
“Because it’s the way things are supposed to be!!”
The silence that followed that revelation felt intrusive. You couldn’t wait for Steve to tell you off, to argue with you some more, but instead, he didn’t say another word and just stared at you, dumbfounded. It allowed you to reflect on your behavior of the past ten minutes and you immediately dropped your eyes to look at your shoes, ashamed.
“What do you mean?” Steve asked you then, voice softer.
You sighed and looked in the distance, avoiding his gaze.
“It’s the tradition. On the 4th of July, you come to my place to help me pack everything, we take my car to pick up Eddie and Robin on the way to the lake, we meet Nance and Jonathan there, then, you and Eddie set the barbecue while Jonathan and I take care of the music, and Nance and Robin lay the blankets to make us cozy. And we eat and drink until they shoot the fireworks from downtown – it’s how the day is supposed to go.”
“Right, and it’s how it’s going to go today,” Steve assured, confused.
“No, it’s not. Rob and Eddie are not there this year, and because of Gina, we’re late and missing out on the sunset.” You paused, taking a breath. “It’s what I look forward to the most. Watching the sunset on the lake with you guys. All of you.”
Steve relaxed his shoulders and breathed out like he finally made sense of the underlying problem. He stepped closer to you and his hand cupped your face, willing you to look him in the eyes.
“Okay, I’m going to take a wild guess and assume it has something to do with Nancy and Jonathan talking about moving to Chicago next year for Nancy’s job,” Steve said. “Am I boiling or getting colder?”
The rhetorical question elicited a weak smile on your lips.
“I know Chicago’s not that far from Hawkins, but… I like the way things are right now, you know?” you explained while Steve listened, nodding. “I like that we can hang out whenever we want to, show up unannounced at each other’s place, and whatnot.”
“You can still do that if they move to Chicago. It’ll just take you more than three hours to get there,” he teased you.
Steve did it – he made you laugh. “I’m not so sure Gina would survive the trip.”
“I’ll let you borrow my car, then,” Steve whispered, and even though you were bantering, it sounded like a promise.
You chuckled, the knot in your stomach coming undone as Steve put his thumb to your forehead, stroking where you had wiped the oil stain earlier.
“You look like shit,” he told you unceremoniously.
“And you’re a shitty friend,” you bit back, making you both smile.
Friend. The denomination never felt strong enough to define what you and Steve meant to one another. Yet, it was the only one you used, the only one that brought you comfort, especially in those blurry moments that kept you wondering why that boy had always been so sweet and kind to you, even when you felt undeserving.
You jumped at the sound of a car honking from the street, bringing you back to reality as you and Steve turned your heads to see what happened. You felt amused, and somehow relieved when you saw Nancy popping her head out the passenger window of Jonathan’s car like a beautifully staged interruption.
“Oh my God, you guys are late too?” Nancy shouted at them. “I told Jonathan to go over the speed limit, and as you can imagine, he was not happy about it.”
Steve laughed, and you followed suit because it was almost ridiculous, how perfect the situation had turned out. Sure, things felt different this year, with winds of change impending, and the future of your friend group unclear. But at least, you were all on the same page.
“While we’re here, get in the car with us!” Nancy offered, gesturing for you to come closer. “Maybe we can still catch the sunset.”
You exchanged an amused look with Steve, silently agreeing that your uncooperative car and your latest conversation would remain a secret you’d share only between you. Your friends didn’t need to know the reason why you were late.
So, you and Steve hurried to put everything in Jonathan’s car, climbed in the backseat, and made it to the lake just in time to admire the remnant of sunset and put everything into place to wait for the fireworks.
And as you put a blanket over your and Nancy’s shoulders, the fire crackling in the quiet of the evening around you, you couldn’t help but search for Steve’s eyes. He was already looking at you, sitting across the fire next to Jonathan. You smiled when you realized, and he winked at you, playful, secretive.
Maybe you were lying to yourself, in the end. Maybe you didn’t mean it when you said you liked things the way they were. Maybe there was one thing you wouldn’t mind changing, you thought as you looked away from Steve to look up at the fireworks now erupting in the sky above.
🎃🎃🎃
“I’m not sure I get it, Robin – who are you dressed as?”
“Are you seriously asking me that question, Nance? Marty McFly? Don’t tell me you still haven’t watched Back to the Future!”
“I didn’t have time.”
“In five years, you didn’t have time to watch a two-hour movie?”
“I work a lot, okay?!”
You were only half-listening to Robin and Nancy’s bickering as you finished getting ready for the Halloween party that your high school classmate Tina and her best friend Vicki Carmichael threw every year.
Usually, on the 31st of October, you would just crash at Steve and Eddie’s former apartment with the group, stuffing your face with popcorn and watching horror movies. But this year, the boys didn’t live at that apartment anymore and it was the last Halloween you’d all spend together in Hawkins before Jonathan and Nancy moved to Chicago next January. You all agreed it called for a memorable celebration, hence why you were now getting ready with the girls at your place.
“So, you mean to tell me you haven’t had time to watch Back to the Future, but you had it to watch all three Star Wars movies, judging on your costume?” Robin asked while Nancy grunted in frustration.
“I told you last week, me and Jonathan are wearing couple’s costumes – he’s Han Solo and I’m Princess Leia, obviously,” she explained while pointing at her long white dress and peculiar hairstyle.
“Couple’s costumes,” Robin repeated. “Kids these days, they’re just talking nonsense.”
“It’s romantic and fun, you’re just jealous you didn’t think about it for you and Vickie,” Nancy retorted as you were starting to think you were in the middle of playground taunts.
“Oh yeah, I should’ve asked Vickie to dress as Doc, it would’ve been crazy romantic,” Robin sassed.
Once the heels were at your feet, you turned around on your chair to stare at your friends.
“You two realize how stupid your fight is, right?” you chipped in.
“We’re not fighting,” Robin and Nancy said in unison.
You rolled your eyes and turned back around to face your vanity and finish your makeup, but it was too late – you had involuntarily drawn the attention to you.
“And who are you dressing as, hot stuff?” Nancy cooed while smirking at your reflection in the mirror.
You hummed the Dirty Dancing theme song to answer her question, and she nodded approvingly, taking in your pink dress and silver heels.
“I love it,” Nancy smiled.
“Thanks,” you said as you stood up. “And you two look equally great, so stop biting each other’s heads off.”
“So, if you’re Jennifer Grey, does it mean Steve’s dressing as Patrick Swayze? I could see him pulling that off.”
Robin’s question took you aback for it came out of nowhere. You gaped at her, face warm and thoughts racing.
“Hmm, no, he’s not. That’d… be a great couple’s costume, for sure. But we’re not a couple, so…” you stammered, awfully self-conscious.
“Well, yeah, but you might as well be.”
“Robin,” Nancy reprimanded her with warning eyes.
“What??” Robin exclaimed while you watched, confused. “It’s not like she doesn’t know what I mean, it’s been going on for years, this… whatever this is. And honestly, we’re all tired of pretending like we can’t see it.”
Nancy blushed, embarrassment written all over her face as she rubbed a hand over it.
“I don’t… understand,” you admitted, tugging at the hems of your dress to anchor yourself in the moment.
“There’s nothing to understand, babes,” Nancy said softly. “Robin was just joking. Right, Rob?”
Nancy was now glaring at Robin, who had no option but to concur. It felt like you were missing something there, and you didn’t like it. Were your friends talking behind your back? Were they annoyed at your relationship with Steve? Annoyed at the ambiguity, the unsaid, the attraction? Was it all that obvious as of late?
“I’m sorry, guys,” Robin said with a sigh. “I had a fight with Vickie earlier today and it messed me up a little bit.”
“Oh, babes,” Nancy softened, hugging Robin from the side.
“I know that’s no excuse for being a jerk,” Robin winced in your direction.
“You’re all right,” you said with a sympathetic smile, and both Robin and Nancy seemed relieved.
The three of you talked Robin through her problem until it was time to meet the guys outside. Nancy was the first to exit the apartment, but Robin lingered by the front door, hand hovering hesitantly above the handle. Eventually, she made up her mind and turned over to face you.
“I just want you to know that I’m really sorry for earlier,” Robin told you.
“It’s okay, Rob, I get it. You were upset about your fight with Vickie and said stuff you didn’t mean. It’s fine, it happens to all of us,” you said, wondering why Robin had felt the need to bounce back on that.
“No, but see, that’s the thing – I did mean it,” she contradicted. “I just didn’t say it like I should’ve.”
“And how should you say it?” you asked with a frown.
Robin looked uncertain now, fidgeting where she stood. You imagined that if Nancy were still in the room with you two, she’d probably give Robin an earful.
“When I said that we’re all tired of pretending like we can’t see what there is between you and Steve, I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” she elaborated under your undivided attention. “It’s just… We’re your friends, and you know, as friends, we want what’s best for each other, I’m sure you feel that way about us too –“
“Robin, cut to the chase, please,” you interjected before she could lose herself in her explanation.
“We just think if you two admitted what you’re both obviously feeling for each other… You could be very happy together. And the rest of us would be too because damn, we’ve watched it happen since high school and it’s about time one of you does something about it, babes.”
You stared at the door behind Robin, wishing to run away from this conversation that was too much for you to handle. It was the first time one of your friends confronted you on the matter, upfront, and you had no idea how to react.
“I’m not expecting you to say anything, don’t worry,” Robin added. “I just wanted you to know what everyone else is thinking. Do what you want with that information.”
You opened your mouth to respond but you heard the distinctive sound of Eddie’s van parking on the street, your sign that it was time to go and end this conversation for good. You rushed to the door, opening it before Robin could and hurtling down the stairs to some extent on your heels. Once you were outside, you breathed in slowly, calming down and processing what one of your best friends had just confided to you.
You and Robin met Nancy on the curb as Eddie slid the van’s side door open to let you in the backseats.
“Evening, ladies,” Eddie greeted.
“Wow, you’re Elton!” Nancy exclaimed after studying Eddie’s costume, a white ensemble with feathers and glitter that was the singer’s signature.
“You could get that but not mine?!” Robin exclaimed, almost offended.
“Move on, Rob, and let’s have fun tonight,” Nancy teased her while sitting near Jonathan, dressed in the easily identifiable Han Solo outfit.
Robin took the passenger seat next to Eddie, leaving you with no choice but to sit next to Steve at the back of the van. Of course. Almost like it had been on purpose, you thought to yourself.
You settled next to him and you were almost insecure, something you’d never felt around him. You resented Robin for not knowing best, and not keeping her mouth shut.
“Hey, kitten,” Steve welcomed you as you smoothed the edges of your dress.
“Hey, Harrington,” you said in return, attempting to smile at him.
You studied his costume as he studied yours. Aviator sunglasses on his head, green jumpsuit, sleeves rolled back under his elbows – Maverick from Top Gun. You'd gushed over the character when the movie came out, and you wondered if it happened to be a funny coincidence or if Steve had picked that costume on purpose.
“Baby,” Steve suddenly said.
“What?” you choked out with widened eyes.
Steve frowned. “Your costume,” he clarified. “Baby from Dirty Dancing, right?”
You processed the information and chuckled awkwardly, feeling stupid. You let Robin get in your head and you hated it.
“Right,” you breathed out as Eddie drove away.
Something passed in Steve’s eyes, and you were not sure what it was. Hesitation, desire, resignation… You watched and waited, fingers laced on your lap, heartbeat echoing in your ears.
“You look… very nice,” Steve told you in a hushed voice.
You knew neither Nancy nor Jonathan could’ve heard it – they were engaged in a vivid conversation with Robin and Eddie in the front of the car. It was an intimate declaration, meant for you and you only.
Your lips parted subtly, but Steve’s eyes caught it regardless. It did not soothe the rate of your beating heart.
“Thanks,” you croaked it, throat tight. “You’re not too bad yourself."
Steve smiled briefly, then did the strangest thing. He leaned in, his face awfully close to yours, and you thought; this was it. He was going to kiss you. Right then, right there, in the back of Eddie’s van dressed as the guy from Top Gun on the way to a Halloween party.
And as much as you wanted him to kiss you, it wasn’t how you wanted him to do it. Not the place, not the time. Maybe Steve realized it too because he moved away as quickly as he had gotten closer to you, clearing his throat and watching out the window like nothing happened.
The party at Tina’s villa was loud, messy, and packed with former classmates – some you were glad to run into, others you made a strong case of avoiding. You had a nice chat with your high school sweetheart, even though you could feel Steve’s eyes on you the whole time. When you couldn’t bear the weight of his yearning gaze, you took a sip of that rum punch Vicki Carmichael had made – a few times.
You fled to the bathroom around eleven to freshen up and have some alone time. You were reasonably drunk, but still conscious enough to notice someone was already in the room when you barged into it.
“Oh, so sorry, I didn’t know someone was in there –”
You cut the apology short when you recognized the person’s reflection staring at you in the mirror.
“Becky, hi,” you said, surprised.
The girl greeted you back, the sound of your name imperceptible amid the party people shouting in the hallway. Now, you were reasonably drunk and very uncomfortable.
Becky was the last girl Steve had dated. They had been together for two years and seemed happy until Becky broke up with Steve overnight. Everyone assumed she’d probably met someone else, but you always felt like that was too simple and there was another more plausible explanation.
“You okay?” Becky asked you.
“Y – yeah, I just needed to cool off,” you mumbled.
You assumed Becky would urge you to clear off and leave her be, but instead, she stepped aside to give you some space in front of the sink.
You closed the door behind you and stood in front of the mirror, silently watching Becky perfect the mascara on her lashes. You quickly gathered she was dressed as Madonna in the Material Girl music video.
“It’s… been a while,” you said to break that awful silence. “What are you up to these days?”
“Small talk, huh? I thought we were way past that.”
You chuckled, ill at ease and too drunk to have a proper conversation. Out of all the girls Steve had dated, Becky was the one who unsettled you the most. You never knew what to expect of her.
“How’s Stevie?” Becky then asked before reapplying some lipstick.
Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was Becky's inquiry, but something turned your stomach. You always hated it when she called Steve that name. It reminded you of a jealous version of yourself you’d rather leave in the past.
“He’s good,” you said casually, no matter your inner turmoil. “You know. Same old, same old.”
Becky’s lips turned into the semblance of a smile.
“I take it you two still aren’t together.”
You felt your heart drop at that comment. What did she mean, “still”? And what was up with everyone and their insights regarding your relationship with Steve?
“It sounded a lot less petty in my head, I promise,” Becky said when you stayed silent.
“It’s not that,” you replied. “I’m just… surprised you would say that.”
Becky sighed and turned around to face you. It looked like she was about to get a lot of things off her chest, and you were not sober enough for that.
“You know why I broke up with Steve?” Becky asked you, and she obviously wasn’t waiting for an answer. “Why all the girls he dates eventually break things off with him?”
You blinked. You didn’t want Steve’s ex-girlfriend to share that information with you. You had absolutely no desire to detain such knowledge. Yet, you shook your head, permitting Becky to say what she really thought, too curious to pretend you didn’t care.
“Because it’s painfully obvious he’s in love with you and we’re just here passing time until he finally has the balls to tell you.”
In love. You had thought about it all with Steve – he thinks I’m pretty; he’s attracted to me; he likes me more than a friend. But never in your wildest dreams had you dared fantasize about these powerful little words.
He’s in love with you, Becky’s voice repeated like a broken record on a loop in your mind. Taunting, hopeful, too good to be true.
You found yourself sitting on the bathtub’s edge, both arms at your side, speechless. Becky leaned against the wall across from you and chuckled like she'd just shared the funniest story.
“Don’t tell me this is shocking news.”
“I…” you started without finishing your thought. You were at a loss for words and your head started spinning, the fateful sentence seeping into your mind faster than the liquor in your system.
“Look, obviously, it wasn’t my place to tell, but you know, despite everything, I always liked you,” Becky confessed. “You were always nice to me, even though I could tell it was not easy for you.”
You lowered your eyes, apologetic. It was true – you had always been nice to Becky. After all, it wasn’t the girl’s fault if you had feelings you’d never dare confess to your best friend.
“That’s why I’m telling you,” Becky resumed. “I’m trying to help you two out. This whole faint-hearted act was probably cute when you were sixteen, but you’re adults now. Are you waiting for him to get married and start a family with someone else to tell him how you feel?”
The mere thought made your heart ache. You didn’t want to picture Steve married to someone else. It made you nauseous.
“Sorry, that was harsh,” Becky apologized.
“Why are you doing this?” you asked her in a whisper, feeling like your head was about to explode. “Why are you telling this to me and not him?”
Becky stared at you like you’d just said the most nonsensical thing.
“Because he’s an idiot and a coward. If you’re waiting for him to make a move, you’ll wait a long time, honey.”
You spaced out for a moment, and when you returned to your senses, Becky was gone, leaving you alone with your spiraling thoughts in that bathroom.
Becky was right. Steve was an idiot and a coward. The inebriation clouded all your good judgments, so you got to your feet and walked out of the bathroom to look for Steve. After everything that happened tonight, you were confused, upset, and even angry.
You found him outside by the pool, joking around with some guys from his old swim team in high school. You marched to him, bold and determined, and he didn’t notice you right away, so you hooked your fingers to the fabric around his arm and dragged him behind you. You ignored the guys whistling at you both or Steve protesting and asking what had gotten into you until you walked into an empty room on the side of the villa and closed the patio door behind you.
“Okay, what the hell was that about??” Steve exclaimed, his voice loud in the quiet of the room, away from the party noises and the music. “Have you lost your shit??”
“You’re an idiot,” you told him in an accusing tone.
“Tell me about it,” Steve sassed you.
“And a coward!”
“Oh, so you have a whole list, huh?”
“That’s what Becky said.”
Steve looked at you in silence, processing what you just said.
“Of course, you talked to Becky….” he sighed. “Let me guess – she said I stole her INXS tape? She needs to let it go, she clearly lost it, she can’t keep blaming me for –“
“I don’t want you to get married, Steve,” you interrupted him, blurting out what you had been obsessing about for the last ten minutes.
Steve froze and looked at you like you were insane. And you might just be, you realized. You took a step back, dizzy and embarrassed.
“I… was not planning on getting married any time soon. Where is that coming from?” Steve asked you, stepping toward you.
You bit your tongue, holding from saying another stupidity you’d immediately regret. Suddenly, your choice to confront Steve and isolate yourselves in a bedroom didn’t look like the brilliant plan it seemed to be five minutes ago.
“Forget it, I’m drunk, and I don’t know what I’m saying,” you stammered, head low as you walked toward the door.
“Hey,” Steve brought you short by taking your hand before you had the chance to leave. His touch was tender, your hand fit perfectly in his, and you understood what Becky meant when she said "still not together".
“Talk to me,” Steve urged, lacing his fingers with yours. It was unbearable, how natural it felt. “You used to tell me everything, and now, I have no idea what’s up with you anymore.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat, wishing you could go back in time and stop yourself from putting the two of you in this awful situation.
“Come on, kitten, we’re friends, you can tell me anything.”
Friends. You loathed the word that normally comforted you. You couldn’t stand to hear it.
He’s in love with you. How could he say you were friends when he was the one you called first when your car broke down, when he’d snuck out of college to comfort you after you got dumped by your ex-boyfriend, when he drove you across the country to see your sick grandfather for the last time? How did he have the audacity to minimize what you meant to each other after taking such a significant place in your heart for years and years?
“We’re not friends,” you mumbled.
You looked at him and thought you could see heartbreak in his eyes. You’d hurt him. You’d hurt him badly.
“We’re not?” he asked, his voice breaking in the inflection.
You held your breath as Steve questioned you with glistening eyes. He didn’t understand what you were trying to tell him, and it was killing you.
“You know what I mean,” you breathed out, unable to say the actual words.
He’s in love with you. It was so simple. Why couldn’t he just admit it?
You’re in love with him too, why can’t you say it?  you admitted to yourself.
Because no, it wasn’t that simple. Steve wasn’t the only coward in this situation. After all these years, it was so scary to admit, even more to say out loud. How could you expect him to say it when you were terrified of doing it yourself?
Eventually, Steve let go of your hand, an almost insignificant gesture that shattered your heart into a million pieces.
“Actually… No. I don’t know what you mean,” he said, defeated, before leaving the room.
You did it. You ruined everything, you thought as you sat on the floor and cried your heartbreak away.
🎁🎁🎁
It was supposed to be the merriest day of the year, with children's laughter filling the air and countless presents to unwrap. Yet, your heart was not in it, and you had to hold back tears during dinner that night at your parents’ house.
You hadn’t talked to or heard from Steve in almost two months, and it was officially the longest you’d spent without seeing each other. The thought was excruciating. He was your best friend in the entire world, you were head over heels in love with him, and the absence of him was like gasping for air on the verge of drowning.
But today was a merry day. Today was all about spending time together, eating a nice homemade meal, and reuniting. So, you played the part – you ate dinner, played board games with your cousins, and chatted with your uncles and aunts. You did what you were expected to do, and nothing more.
When you returned to your place, to your sad and lonely apartment, you sat down on the floor, still in your red party dress, back to your couch with a glass of wine, and flipped through a photo album Nancy and Jonathan had given you for your twenty-fifth birthday.
It was a recollection of happy times Jonathan had captured with his camera throughout the years – from graduating high school to renting your first crappy apartment, taking your first trip to New York with the group, and celebrating various occasions with them.
You took the last photo from the album, holding it between your fingers to get a closer look. It was a picture of you and Steve on New Year’s Eve the year before. You were posing for the camera, smiling from ear to ear. You were looking at the lens, but Steve only had eyes for you, holding you in his arms with rosy cheeks. When you looked at it like that, in retrospect and from another’s perspective, it seemed so evident that the guy in the picture loved the girl posing next to him.
You were fully crying now, blurry eyes and stuffy nose in contradiction with the holiday spirit. You were about to put the picture away in the album when something in the back of it caught your eye.
There was a note in the handwriting you would recognize anywhere at any given time – Steve’s. Your heart skipped a beat. It had gone unnoticed the first time you’d looked through the album at your birthday party and none of your friends had mentioned a thing about it. You started to look at a handful of pictures to see if others had something hidden on the other side, but they were all blank. All except for one.
You took a deep breath, pondering. Maybe Nancy and Jonathan were unaware of it, but Steve not saying anything didn’t make sense. This note had been there, forgotten in an album gathering dust in your bookcase, for months, and it could’ve gone on for years had you not felt nostalgic on that specific day.
You wondered if you should read it or pretend you’d never seen it. It was only a few words; they were probably some meaningless inside jokes or more personal birthday wishes. But they could also be something more, much more.
You knew you couldn’t live with the uncertainty, so you gathered your courage and read.
Happy birthday, kitten! Don’t know if you’ll ever see this, but I want you to know you’re my favorite person in the entire world, and I love you. Yours always, Steve PS: stop being a sourpuss just ‘cause you turned 25
It had been there. Right there, under your nose, all along. Yours always.
Before you could think it through, your coat was around your shoulders and you were behind the wheel, ready to drive to Steve’s place and tell him how you felt. Screw the stability and the uncertainty – you loved the boy too and you needed to tell him tonight.
It was past midnight, the air was cold and the streetlights reflected in the puddles on the pavement as you drove a little too fast toward Steve’s building. Your heart was racing in your chest, anticipation mingling with excitement while you rehearsed what you’d say in your head.
You were going to confess your true feelings to Steve. Nothing could scare you anymore.
Except, perhaps, the ominous sputtering sound your car made when you tried to restart at a traffic light.
“No, no, no, no, no, come on, not now!!” you begged desperately.
The ignition wouldn’t turn over, and you could’ve screamed at the sky. Was it some sort of cosmic sign preventing you from making the biggest mistake of your life?
You got out of the car to check the engine under the hood. When you opened it, it did something it’d never done before – it gave off fumes.
You coughed violently as you stepped away from the car, looking all around you and realizing you were alone on the street in the middle of the night with a kaput car and wasted opportunities.
“This is a nightmare,” you told yourself out loud. “This can’t be happening to me.”
Your eyes burned as you were about to cry again, disheartened and pathetic. Then, some headlights on the other side of the road caught your attention.
A maroon car stopped next to you and turned the ignition off. You held your breath, recognizing the vehicle instantly and wondering if the universe wouldn’t happen to be messing with you.
The driver exited the car and eyed yours up and down before chuckling.
“I had a feeling Gina wouldn’t make it through the year,” he said.
You laughed, the sound choked up in your throat at the improbability of the situation. You couldn’t believe Steve was there, rescuing you even without meaning to, always being there when you needed him to, the constant one in your life. As luck would have it, you thought.
“What are you doing here this late at night?” you asked him.
“Could ask you the same thing,” he remarked with a smile.
You returned his smile, nervously fixing your hair. The wind was rising, and the air was filled with change and expectations.
“I was… on my way to your place, actually,” you explained, somehow shyly. “I wanted to talk to you.”
A few seconds passed until Steve spoke again like he was processing the information. “That’s funny, I was on my way to your place too.”
You swallowed, unable to stop hoping. “You were?”
“Yeah… Of course, I was,” Steve shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep, and I realized I never got a chance to give you your present because we weren't speaking to each other, so… Anyways, I can just give it to you now.”
“We’re literally in the middle of the road, Steve.”
He looked around at the empty and silent street for good measure. “Yeah, and it’s not like it’s rush hour right now, I think we’re good.”
You opened your mouth to retort but opted against saying anything else. It was your first interaction with him in weeks, it was out of the question to ruin it just to have the last word.
The young man got something from the backseat of his car and immediately handed it to you. You took it carefully, turning it over in your hand to try and figure out what was beneath the wrapping paper.
“I… don’t have your gift,” you admitted, crestfallen. “I mean, I did get you something, but I didn’t think to give it to you tonight.”
“It’s okay, kitten. Just open it.”
You complied, slowly unwrapping the paper with trembling fingers and shortness of breath as Steve observed quietly.
You were now looking at a book’s front cover, and it might’ve seemed unremarkable at first glance, but it was not some common paperback.
“First limited edition,” Steve explained, even though you already knew. “You talked about it at Eddie’s place a couple of months ago, that it was almost impossible to find today, and you’d love to have it. So, I went to every bookstore in town to ask if they knew where to get it, and one of them gave me their counterpart's number from England, they had to send it all the way here but… Yeah,” Steve concluded, face red and hands in his pocket. “I found it.”
You looked up from the book to lock eyes with Steve. He seemed expectant and abashed, almost anxious of your reaction.
“You went to all this trouble for me?” you asked in disbelief.
He pursed his lips and nodded as if it was that obvious.
“You’re well worth the trouble.”
All this time, you had expected blatant signs, big gestures, and declarations, when Steve had been telling you how he felt in his own way for years. It had always been there – in fleeting touches, longing stares, and understated actions.
“I read it,” you eventually confessed.
"The book?" Steve asked, puzzled.
“No," you laughed. "The note you wrote in my photo album. I read it tonight.”
You noticed the way Steve held his breath at that revelation. Suddenly, you no longer cared that you were standing in the middle of the road with your dead car by your side. Suddenly, all that mattered was the pretty boy standing before you and what you felt for him.
“It was corny, right?” Steve said with a nervous laugh. “I know you don’t like it when it’s corny but –“
“Can’t you just be serious for one minute, Harrington?” you cut him short with an amused eye roll. “I’m trying to tell you how I feel here.”
“I know,” Steve breathed out. “I’ve been trying to tell you how I feel for months now, but I never find the right words.”
In the elation of the moment, your words got a mind of their own, and you heard yourself saying: “Show me, then.”
Friends. A designation you held onto for the past eight years, a status that put things into perspective whenever Steve introduced a new girlfriend to the group, a word that freed you of your guilt when getting into relationships yourself, a term that helped you when you would yearn for something more, something you thought to be unrealistic and unreachable.
That word no longer held any power over you now that you were in Steve Harrington’s arms and he leaned in to seal his lips with yours into a long-awaited and overdue kiss, the promise of a cherished and beautiful future.
You'd envisioned the scene time and time again in your mind, but none of the imaginary scenarios your fantasies created could measure up to that kiss. It was sweet, yet demanding, like you were the air he needed to breathe. He kissed you like he loved - sincerely, tenderly, and intensely. You smiled against his mouth, and your heart melted when he did it too.
When you parted from him, lips swollen and eyelashes fluttering, you felt like everything was finally right and mourned the time you wasted being scared of changes.
“So… What now?” you whispered, getting a strand of hair out of Steve’s face to look at him better.
The boy held your gaze, enamored and enraptured like you’d never seen him before. You enjoyed it while it lasted because it was a momentary bliss until reality caught up.
“Well, first, we’re going to call a tow truck," Steve said as he entwined his fingers with yours. "And then, you’ll bid farewell to Gina,” he nodded toward the car.
Your heart tightened in your chest. You’d almost forgotten about your car. It was truly ironic, how you needed to say goodbye to your oldest partner while embracing a new beginning with your best friend.
“Can it wait until tomorrow?” you asked while batting your lashes at him.
“Hey, just because we’re going to make out a lot from now on doesn’t mean you get to do that,” Steve jokingly scolded you while gesturing at your face.
“Do what?” you asked, coy and amused.
Steve laughed and put his arm around your shoulders. “Come on, kitten, I’m taking you home.”
At first, it didn’t feel like much had changed between you and Steve. You were still teasing each other, spending time with the group before Nancy and Jonathan’s departure, and arguing about what car you should buy now that Gina was in a junkyard.
But things had changed for the better, and you realized it on New Year’s Eve when Steve kissed you at midnight, as he would for many new years to come.
❤️❤️❤️
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rindreamery · 1 day ago
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congratulations on getting 300 followers!! here's my order: itoshi rin + spicy + cuddling + best friends to lovers!! thank you <3
ORDER 7: READY TO GO !
rin + spicy + cuddling + best friends to lovers w.c. 1k+
note. thank youu <3 this made me realize that i don't have a talent for writing suggestive pieces but there is ALWAYS room for improvement ig 😭 i tried my best here, i hope you enjoy T^T
interested in more? check out the lounge !
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lately, rin’s been finding it exceptionally difficult to act like he’s not madly in love with you.
he tries his best to hold it in, to not let the years of longing seep out in his words and the way he treats you. but you— so oblivious, blind, unaware of the effect you have on him— just never makes it easy. you’re so affectionate that it drives him insane, you’re so affectionate with him that his mind starts to blur the line between being your best friend and something more. maybe it’s simply because he’s touch deprived, or maybe it’s another thing, but when your arms wrap behind his neck to pull him in for a hug, his mind blanks. 
except, for one thought: how badly he wants to be something more to you. 
especially now, when you’re laying beside him, limbs intertwined with his own as you cuddle up against his side. hugs between best friends are normal, that, he’s aware of. but this isn’t— this is all too much for being just best friends. the way your face is buried in his neck, hands laying casually on his chest, and the way his arms hang around your waist, hands dipping dangerously low. it’s not normal, but the two of you sure act like it is. 
it doesn’t help that when you’re in his arms, his mind always wanders off to thoughts of what it would be like to be officially yours (though, he’s been unofficially yours since the day he met you.) he always starts to wonder what it would feel like to be able to hug you and kiss you freely, the way he wants, and say what he could never say to you. to know you in a way he doesn’t know you, right now. it’s a dangerous place for his mind to wander into, because it makes him want to spill. to confess. 
and as your hands start to trail across his chest, fingers idly drawing a line up and up, until you’re tracing his collarbones and then the line of his jaw delicately— rin has to force his eyes shut. it takes everything in him to calm the way his mind starts to blank, yet go into overdrive, all at the same time. alternating between a state of not being able to think, to thinking too much. 
he’s glad you can’t see him, not in the state that he’s in right now. ears and cheeks flaring in bright red, brows tightly pinched together, and absolutely gritting his teeth that it’s almost painful. the look of pure restraint. but he’s sure you can feel him, the way his skin burns underneath your finger, the way his jaw tightens up, and the way his pulse quickens in the joint between his neck and jaw. you could probably feel the way his grip tightens ever so slightly, and his chest starting to rise and fall at a ragged pace, matching his erratic heartbeat, too.
it’s no surprise that you’re able to tell almost immediately, sweetly asking, “something on your mind, rin?” yet, it catches him off guard. he barely processes your words, still trying to yank himself out of his never-ending thoughts. “you’re extra tense today,” you say against the skin of his neck, and he barely hears that too.  
rin lets out a shaky, almost inaudible breath. he’s about to shrug it off, to tell you, “it’s nothing,” and then spend the remainder of the time fighting his urges. the words are about to roll off his tongue, the same way he’d practiced over and over, throughout the years. he’s so close to denying himself of his feelings again.
but then, he freezes. 
he feels the way your finger leaves its spot from his jaw, going even further up— something you had never done before— until your index is ghosting over the line of his bottom lip. “come on, you can tell me.” you trace the curve agonizingly slow as you speak, and it tickles, but somehow feels oddly euphoric. tempting him. “i’m your best friend, aren’t i?” 
he picks up the tone in your voice; so innocent sounding, yet so cunning, that makes him feel like he's fallen right into your trap. like you'd been waiting for this moment, all along. testing him, pushing his limits, waiting for him to snap.
had this been your plan all along?
your voice, as you say best friend, lingers; the word echoes in his mind, repeating until your voice eventually fades into nothing.
and he does— he snaps.
one of his hands leaves the comfort of your waist, flying up to grip onto your wrist like it’s the only thing tying him down to his sanity. but he’s long gone, and thoughts of preserving whatever type of friendship this was was no longer at the forefront of his mind. just you, him, and more of you. 
for a second, a reasoning thought does flash across his mind— you can’t go back from this, rin— right as he yanks you up by the wrist, forcing you to face him. but the thought disappears as quickly as it came, and is erased with the image of you peering down at him, and he forces down a gulp. he doesn’t miss the look of surprise that swirls in your irises, but it’s even harder to miss the look of satisfaction? that darkens in your eyes. 
he's breathing heavily, staring into your eyes, and he's sure there's a crazed look in his, the exact reaction you wanted, from the way your lips curl at the sight of him.
"go on," you egg him on.
and it works. he pulls you down, roughly at that, until his lips are mere millimeters away from yours.
“i don't want to be your best friend. i’m sick of pretending,” rin whispers lowly against your lips, trying to speak through his clenched jaw, voice audibly restrained and teetering on the line of desperation, “that i don't want more from you.”
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© rindreamery, 2024
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sl003 · 3 days ago
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SESE's Fic Recs (ATEEZ)
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Hi and welcome to my ATEEZ fic rec! This is basically a collection of my favourite ATEEZ fics (duh) and I really recommend reading them if you haven't already! This List will get updated from time to time when i have new fics that i can put on here.
Warning: As i will write my opinion/thoughts under some of the fics, they might contain some spoilers for them!
The pictures/dividers aren't mine, so all credits go to the rightful owners!
My all-time-favourites are marked with a: ♡
With that being said, a giant thank you to all the incredibly skilled and talented writers that came up with these amazing works of art <3
Have fun reading!
PS: If any of the links don't work or are wrong, please tell me, i'll fix it as fast as possible!
KIM HONGJOONG
I'm The One - @sorryimananti-romantic (24k)
prince!hj x translator!r
♡ The Nightfury - @bvidzsoo (22.2k)
pirate!hj x pirate!r - enemies to lovers (kind of?)
I can barely describe how much i love this! I just love the dynamic between the reader and hongjoong in this one. You can really feel the hatred and attraction they feel for each other. I reread this regularly since this is a plot that i've never read in this way before.
Ghost Of Christmas Past - @stayteezdreams (4.5k)
kinda romeo & juliet au (forbidden love trope) / "exes" to lovers
This started off so intense that it immediately pulled me in and had me hooked! I'm a sucker for the "forbidden love" trope and this was such an amazing approach.
Your Fan - @hwaightme (2 parts)
Part 1 / Part 2
idol!hj x fashion designer!r
Hongjoong with a fashion designer s/o just made so much sense! And he was so whipped for her it's adorable, definitely recommend!
Familiar Stranger - @yourlocaljonghoe (24.2k)
best friends to lovers / divorced au
♡ Your Gentle Hands - @yourlocaljonghoe (37.6k - 2 parts)
dressmaker!hj x married!r (plays in the 1800s)
This was also so incredible to read. The way the writer wrote hongjoong's personality and his behaviour/dnyamic with the reader was so delicate, i loved it! There were quite a dew sudden and unexpected plot-twists/changes that really surprised me and had me hooked.
♡ The Parent Trap - @yundeob (18.1k)
exes to lovers / parents au
I also reread this one every once in a while, I just really love the chemistry between the reader and hongjoong, especially as the story progresses! Definitely one of my favourites!
Million Dollar Man - @holybibly (9.2k)
This is nearly 9k words of pure filth, but it's the best filth i've read in my whole life. the way he treats her and talks to her makes me melt. this is so divine, i love it! (and the appearance of seonghwa at the end, wow)
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PARK SEONGHWA
The Way I Am - @frenchkisstheabyss (1.6k)
fiancé!sh x make-up artist!r
This was so precious! The way Hwa got so insecure and scared made me tear up, this is so sweet, definitely worth a read! Also a regular reread of mine :)
Best Friend's Mother - @hwashotcheeto (series - 10 parts)
(discontinued) mommy!sh x wy's best friend!r
Bodyguard - @baekhvuns (37.8k)
bodyguard!sh / forbidden love
Let's Not Fall In Love, Again - @baekhvuns (39k)
failing marriage / time travel au
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JEONG YUNHO
Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy - @yunhoszn (12.25k)
+ Horses Are Still Overrated (Sequel - 2k)
cowboy!yh x city girl!r
The Trace Of You - @bvidzsoo (25.1k)
psychiatrist!yh x patient!r
Thousand Miles, Just To Get You Back - @bvidzsoo (28.7k)
victor!yh & r / hunger games au
Memoir - @baekhvuns (16k)
mafia au / amnesia au
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KANG YEOSANG
There's a lot, I think it's obvious he's my bias... sorry not sorry
Cosmos - @pirateprincessblog (17.7k)
dystopian/space au
Stay - @sorryimananti-romantic (18.6k)
archer!ys x princess!r
Married In Vegas - @starrysvn (10k)
ex friends to lovers / forbidden love (kind of)
♡ Operation: Passenger Princess - @sungbeam (9.5k)
college au / frat boy!ys
Again, something i reread on the regular. The chemistry between them is obvious right from the beginning and it's just such a sweet fic. It gets angsty for a short minute but it goes right back to fluffy, which i love!
Speak Now - @edenesth (11.6k)
best friends to lovers / hanahaki disease au
♡ Richboy!Seonghwa Series - @ateezmakemeweep (30 parts)
+ Richboy!Yeosang Series (Spin-Off/Sequel - 6 parts)
private school au (?) / love triangle / enemies to lovers
I'm actually not a big fan of love triangles, but this was amazing, especially since it doesn't stay a classic love triangle for toooo long. I actually went into the richboy!sh series with wanting to read something with seonghwa (obviously), but this fic made me root for yeosang so damn fast that i actually loved the way it turned out in the end and then the small sequel series just topped it off so well!
Untitled - @ateezmakemeweep (18k)
badboy!ys x r / enemies to lovers (kinda)
Transcendent - @biaswreckingfics (9.5k)
soulmate au / best friend's boyfriend
♡ Entropy - @in-san-ity (21.3k)
mafia au / hacker!ys / found family (kinda)
This has to be my all time favourite fic. I put off from reading it very long (i remember the first time i started reading it something put me off, idk what anymore tbh) but when I saw it on nearly every fic rec post i saw, i decided to give it another shot and i fell in love. The dynamic between yeosang and the reader with sol is so precious to me and there were just certain things in the wording that made it even better. If you haven't read this, please do it!
Untitled - @ateezmakemeweep (10k)
skaterboy!ys x ballerina!r / enemies to lovers
Not too much to say about this except it got me right in the feels, it's so sad but also so sweet and wholesome!
Siren - @sorryimananti-romantic (27.8k)
siren!ys x siren hunter!r
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CHOI SAN
Crimson - @hwaslayer (21.8k)
san x stripper!r
Ceilings - @yoongiseesawmp3 (3 parts)
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3
single mom!r to not so single mom!r / exes to lovers
♡ Sunrise - @sorryimananti-romantic (29k)
soldier!san x soldier!r / military special forces au
This is also one of my favourites of all time! The tension and chemistry between these two is out of this world. The way they both (especially the reader) try to suppress their feelings for each other before they finally snap *chefs kiss*.
♡ Leave The Window Open - @sungbeam (3.7k)
strangers to lovers / neighbours / byeol playing matchmaker
This is soooo cute. It's such a cute idea, especially with incorporating byeol into it, this makes me feel so soft! Regular reread of mine
Face Down - @latte-fairytaekwoon (5.5k)
abusive relationsip / "saviour" san
Infinity - @seung-hwa (4.3k)
soulmate au / reincarnation au
♡ From Saturn To Mars - @lividstar (24.2k)
stargazing / star-crossed lovers
Dear god, when i tell you this made me cry... I've read this like 2-3 times now and i was crying my eyes out each and every time i read it. It's written so beautiful yet so tragic. It already starts off quite sad but it just gets progressively worse (in the best way possible). if you feel like you need to have a good cry, read this. Or read it anyway, cause it's incredible
Back To You - @ateezmakemeweep (12 parts)
badboy!san / college au
Broken - @ateezmakemeweep (2 parts)
Part 1 / Part 2
abusive relationship / "saviour" san
Your Worst Mistake - @bvidzsoo (25.7k)
hunger games au / stylist!san x tribute/victor! reader
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SONG MINGI
Steamroller - @fallinforgyu (10k)
best friends to lovers au
Am I Just A Bet To You? - @hannie-roses (24.9k)
enemies to lovers au / you were just a bet au
Preying On You Tonight - @bvidzsoo (29k)
enemies to lovers au / werewolf!mgx vampire!r
Your Fan - @hwaightme (2 parts)
Part 1 / Part 2
idol!mg x rapper!r
They're both so whipped for each other, i love it!
Untitled - @ateezmakemeweep (12k)
werewolf au / mates au
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JUNG WOOYOUNG
Water - @yuyusboyfriend (6.7k)
bff's brother!wy x ftm!r
Right Here - @0097linersb (2 parts)
Part 1 / Part 2
best friends to lovers
Midnight Kisses - @mingigoo (5 parts)
single mom au / bff to lovers / dead ex!seonghwa / new flame!san
♡ Place In Me - @starrysvn (17k)
exes to lovers / chef au
I blame this fic for kickstarting my sudden obsession for old parisian apartments, but in the best way possible. This is so beautiful and i really like the chef trope with wooyoung
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CHOI JONGHO
♡ Cyberpunk - @sorryimananti-romantic (23.7k)
droid!jh x programmer!r / exes to lovers (kinda)
This is also one of my favourites, i've never seen a trope like this before and i love it! Definitely need to reread this one!
Oh Shit, Are We In Love? - @mingigoo (15.8k)
best friends to lovers
Second Chance At Love - @xomakara (7.1k)
dad!jh x nanny turned mom!r
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POLY/MULTIPLE
♡ Opposites Attract Universe - @beenbaanbuun
poly!addams!matz x reader
I'm a sucker for poly!matz and the way these two are portrayed here makes me melt. they just worship their darling so much, just wow. And also with in inclusion of the other members (yeosang as a werewolf/guard dog, san as a butler, jongho as a ghost etc.). Every single fic/drabble etc that takes place in this universe is worth reading!
Three Hearts As One - @cybrsan (2k)
poly!woosan x reader / zombie apocalypse au
Again, one of the things that just made me cry. This is so beautiful but so damn sad and tragic. It's really short but it manages to make me tear up each time.
Beefcake Raccoon - @songmingisthighs (6.5k)
Concrete Bear - @bro-atz (account no longer available)
Manwhich - @skteezcursed (7.7k)
kinda poly!jongsang x reader (mainly jongho x reader)
Outlaw - @staytinyville (49 parts - ongoing)
poly!ot8 x reader / outlaw au
i never thought i'd read a ot8!poly fic but here we are. I decided to give it a shot since i was eating up all the outlaw/wild west/lore au fics with ateez. i'm glad i decided to read this cause it's really amazing, i love the relationship the reader has with each of the members, and one of my favourite parts has to be that every member has a different nickname for her. When i started realizing this i was eating it up and anxiously waiting for the next nickname to appear (i was especially waiting for hongjoongs, and when i tell you i melted when he called her princess for the first time)
Django - @last-words-ofashootingstar (5.5k)
poly!woosan x reader / bouncy au / hint at poly!ot8
It's You - @holybibly (2 parts)
Part 1 / Part 2
poly!woosan x reader
funnily enough, i don't even read this for the spicier parts (which are also *chefs kiss*), i just genuinely love the chemistry and dynamic between those three because they're just so comfortable and shameless around each other, this is really something i need in my life.
204 notes · View notes
azzibuckets · 2 days ago
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sweet [part one]
paige bueckers x azzi fudd
summary: a very sweet story of paige and azzi from best friends to lovers 🥰
a/n: lowkey came up with this on a whim bc yall know how much i love angsty pazzi…probably gonna make this into a short series so lmk if you all want another part :)
word count: 1.4k
masterlist
“Ella said she’s worried about you.”
As Paige hovers over her, propped up by a pillow on one side, Azzi thinks that Ella might not have been as dumb as she’d thought. Here she is, with her best friend, in only a sports bra and sweats so low that they’re barely clinging onto her hips. The best friend in question is leaning on her elbow, one hand splayed across Azzi’s bare abdomen, a smirk on her face as soft strands of blonde hair tickle the younger girl’s face.
Azzi slots her leg in between Paige’s, drawing her impossibly closer. “Why would she ever say that?” She asks teasingly, the corner of her lips tugging up.
Paige’s smirk grows dangerous. Her eyes drag down Azzi’s body, doing a slow perusal of Azzi’s chest. “This doesn’t look close to you?”
Azzi tilts her head, batting her big brown eyes under her full eyelashes. “Who cares? I mean, it’s not like you two are dating or anything.” But knowing Paige’s tendency to hide sensitive topics from her until the last moment, her tone drops. “Are you?”
“No.” Paige laughs. “Just fucking around.” Her hands slide lower down Azzi’s stomach, until her thumb is caressing the dip of her V-line.
Azzi holds her breath, trying to ignore the fire uncurling in her stomach. “Does it mean anything to you?”
“I don’t know.” Paige withdraws her hand, replacing it with her head as she settles on Azzi’s chest with a sigh. The action is so casual, so familiar that it makes Azzi’s heart hurt. Sex with Paige is one thing. Intimacy like this, where she can feel her bare skin against Paige’s, feel Paige’s heartbeat, as they lie together, legs intertwined and breaths in sync? That’s a whole other ballpark.
“I don’t even know what we’re doing,” Paige admits, her voice slightly muffled as she speaks into Azzi’s chest. “She confuses me.”
Azzi almost scoffs out loud at the irony. Paige hs always been hot and cold, flirting with Azzi one moment and giving her a look that Azzi swears is only reserved for her, but chatting it up with another girl at the bar the next. It feels like a constant back and forth with her best friend. Sometimes it feels like Paige has her heart on a pendulum, has been since she was 16, yet lately it’s felt like it’s been ricocheting out of control, the string slowly turning into a thread.
“I think she thinks I’m in love with you or some shit.” Paige has been yapping for the last few minutes as Azzi’s lost herself in her thoughts, but it’s this sentence, thrown out so callously, that freezes her blood. “Which is, like ridiculous, you know?”
Azzi struggles to catch her next breath. But Paige has turned her head and is looking at her now, expecting her to say something, so she forces out a dry laugh. “Yeah,” she mutters. Clearing her throat, she forces herself to steady her voice. “No yeah, that’s crazy.” Azzi is confident - she knows she’s drop dead gorgeous, knows she could mess around with as many guys or girls as she’d want. And she knows full well the effect she has on Paige, how the older girl always goes speechless whenever she’s in that pink lingerie set, unable to keep her hands off her ass even when she’s covered head to toe in an unflattering sweat suit. Yet something about her has never been good enough for Paige, for her to want to call Azzi hers.
Seemingly pleased with her answer, Paige plops back down. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow,” she says decisively.
Azzi lies there for a second before checking her phone. The only notification she has is from PT. She needs to come earlier than usual tomorrow for another progress test. Azzi swallows. “It’s getting pretty late,” she says.
“What?” Paige checks her own phone. “It’s only ten.”
“I know, but it’s been a long day. My knee hurts.”
Paige’s bright blue eyes round in concern as she quickly gets off her best friend, scrambling to sit criss cross on the bed. “Was I hurting it? Lying on you? Shit, Az, you should’ve told me.”
“No,” Azzi waves her best friend off. “It’s just throbbing. I think I just need to take some meds and sleep.”
Paige frowns. “Okay.” She pads out of the room, returning a few moments later with a bag of frozen peas and Azzi’s pink Stanley. “Here. And I moved the Advil to the top drawer of your bedside table right there.”
“Thank you.”
Paige falters. Usually Azzi asks her to stay, to scratch her back until she falls asleep or just hold her as she grits through the pain. “Do you need anything else?”
Azzi doesn’t even look at her. Sliding on her headphones, she shakes her head.
“Okay.” Azzi ignores the hurt and confusion in Paige’s voice. The blonde wears her heart on her sleeve. “Night.”
“See you.”
Paige turns off the lights and shuts the door, and Azzi feels the darkness like never before.
••
8:15 pm, January 8 2024
P: yooo
P: we talked for like hours and i think we’re going somewhere
P: i think im gonna ask her to be my gf
A: oh shit Paige
A: that’s great
A: happy for you 💗
P: i’ll be over in 20 min
P: have you eaten? i had dinner w ella but i can pick up some food for you if you’re hungry?
A: can’t do movie night tonight P
A: knee’s hurting
A: next week?
P: oh okay
P: i hope it feels better
P: don’t forget to use your compression sleeve
P: i doordashed you some food from chikfila, lmk if you want anything else
A: thanks paige
5:27 am, January 14 2024
A: hey where are you?
5:32 am
A: we gotta leave soon or i’ll be late
5:40 am
A: Paige???
Missed call from Azzi💗
Missed call from Azzi💗
A: nvm i’ll just take an uber
8:15 am
P: shit Azzi
P: i’m so sorry
P: i told aubrey to tell you that i couldn’t take you to rehab but she must’ve forgotten
P: i should’ve just texted you
A: it’s good
A: where you at?
P: impromptu trip to nyc
P: ella wanted to go to the knicks game
A: nice
A: hope you had fun
P: how was rehab?
P: any updates?
1 pm
P: dude look
Attachment: 1 Image
P: reminds me of belarus
P: i remember you were so fucking wasted lmfaoo
5:45 pm
P: are you ghosting me now
P: jk
P: but fr
P: you good??
6:45 pm
A: sorry still at pt
A: there’s an issue with the healing in my tissue or something they said
P: i’ll be there to take you to your next appointment i swear
A: actually i was thinking
A: it’s probably better if i just take an uber from now on
A: it’s a four hour round trip and you’re stuck waiting for me during the appointment too
P: it’s not an inconvenience
P: i like talking to your doctors
P: janelle was just getting to the part where she broke up with her bf
A: paige
A: i overheard ella complaining about it the other day
A: you’re getting up at 5 am every saturday to spend 7 hrs with your ex fwb
A: it’s not fair to either of you guys to take up your time like that
P: well when you word it like that ..
P: but you’re still my best friend
P. and ubers are expensive as hell
P: you’re seriously not gonna let me take you?
A: you’re gonna be thanking me once you realize how nice it is to sleep in on saturdays
P: i like spending time with you more than sleeping
Read 6:58 pm
9:40 pm, January 23 2024
P: hey sorry i meant to stop by yours before ted’s but ella needed to change
P: we’re in the back near the pool tables
9:55 pm
P: you’re coming right?
10:40 pm
A: don’t feel too good
A: i’ll just stay in and watch a movie or smthn
A: go have fun
P: bro
P: don’t be boring
P: u haven’t gone out with us in so long
P: i never even see u anymore
A: you can’t be serious rn
A: drinking with everyone after another win i couldn’t even contribute to is the last fucking thing i wanna do tonight
A: i thought you of all people would understand
A: but apparently not
P: I’m sorry
P: I didn’t mean to say that
5 minutes later
P: I miss you
P: Can I come over right now?
A: it’s fine
A: didn’t mean to snap im just tired
A: you’re with your gf and the team you deserve to celebrate
A: you did great tonight i’m proud of you
A: don’t worry ab me
P: i always worry about you
Read 11 pm
12:40 am
P: dude idk what the fuck happened but you’re so weird all the time now
P: do you hate me
P: am i stupid
P: jk
P: think i took too many shots
P: was tryna keep up with nika
P: i miss youuuuuuu
P: so much
P: i wish you’d let me come over
P: don’t tell ella but i kinda miss how things used to be
P: when we were just fucking around
P: now she’s so uptight ab me and you
P: but it’s whatever
P: shit i’m sorry az
P: i was hella drunk last night lmfao
P: ignore everything i said
Read 11 am
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2jimbi · 2 days ago
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a/n: necesitamos más clingy megumi so aquí estoy para dárselos :) un poquito 🤏🏼 ooc pero ya no me importa jajaj hago lo q quiero | not proof read
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“he’s sulking.”
“i am not.”
“why?” yuji asks, popping a gummy bear into his mouth. he’s curled up on the couch, mean girls playing loudly on the tv.
“his girlfriend’s gone—went to visit family for the week, so he’s sad.”
megumi grumbles annoyed. “so what? i can’t miss my significant other or something?”
“i didn’t say that,” she says, voice high and teasing. “but you’re ruining the vibes in here. we wanna have a day together, and here you are, souring the mood.”
megumi wanted to say something back, something bitter and harsh, but she was right. he couldn’t help he was clingy—even if he’d never admit it. he wanted to text you, but he knew that you rarely saw your family, so he wanted you to have a weekend of fun and memories, even if it meant not talking to him. you also had broke your phone during the trip, as noted when you called from your moms phone.
so, for a week, megumi was slowly going insane. he’d reread texts and look through old photos to help him cope. he felt like he was at war, fighting for his wife and kids back home—only that the war was kicking his ass badly.
“oh, fushiguro!” yuji says, mouth full of gummy bears. “y/n texted me last night.”
megumi’s eyes dart to yuji. “what? you’re just telling me now?”
“i forgot, my bad. but she told me she won’t be back for at least another 3 days. her flight got delayed or something like that,” he pops the last gummy bear into his mouth.
megumi felt like he just got shot. like he was the last remaining soldier fighting for his country and he just lost the war. he’d watch himself bleed out, limbs severed, and the enemy would laugh in his face as the faces of his wife and kids flashed before his eyes.
“ooh, that sucks.” nobara says, keenly looking at her nails as she files them down. she blows the dust away, pursing her lips as she stares at the finished product.
so, not only did he have to wait a week, he’d have to wait a week and 3 days. he prayed to whatever divine power was out there for the strength to keep going.
“everything in this movie could’ve been avoided if they just communicated,” yuji says with a sigh.
megumi tried to focus on the movie. he tried to be a good friend, but he couldn’t help that he was a lover boy at heart. he missed his girlfriend, maybe a little too much. if that were a crime, he’d be a convicted felon.
“i don’t think either girl was in the wrong, they were just—“ nobara abruptly stops. her jaw drops.
“what?” megumi says.
“so you just lied?”
megumi turns around and lo and behold, his one and only stands at the door. you were dressed down and looked crazy but megumi swore it made you look 100x more beautiful.
he immediately gets up from where he is and almost tackles you to the floor, pushing you out of the door and spinning you around. he hugs you so tight it’s constricting. “hello to you too.”
“god, i missed you so much,” he says, and his voice is so soft it makes you ache. “i thought about you every second.”
you tap his arm, and he instinctively loosens his grip. “i missed you too, babe. i’m sorry for not texting or calling. i just didn’t want to use my moms phone every time.”
he shakes his head. “it’s fine. why’d you tell itadori you’d come later?”
“oh, cause our flight was delayed, so i thought i’d come home later, but we caught an earlier flight. and i wanted to surprise you, so.”
he hugs you again, burying his face into the crook of your neck and his hands on your waist. “this past week was hell for me. i missed your beautiful face so much.”
yuuji whistles. “woo, fushiguro! you go man!”
nobara wretches. “at least close the door. i don’t wanna witness this.”
megumi walks over to close the door without a word.
“i was only gone for a week, baby. what’s the deal?”
“you, you’re the deal. radio silence from you for a week—i almost went insane. i did everything: scrolled through old photos, reread texts, listened to your favorite songs. it was so pathetic.”
the thought of him doing all that was funny, and it made you cheese hard. you kissed his cheek, and he returned the favor, but on your lips instead.
“well, i’m here now.”
he smiles, the kind of smile that makes his eyes twinkle and his face light up. then, he kisses you again. once, twice, thrice—until you’ve lost count and just stand behind the door kissing, lost in thought.
“get the fuck out of the hallway! i can hear you guys!” nobara yells annoyed.
megumi doesn’t say anything smart, just drags you by your wrist into his dorm. “you’re not allowed to leave me again, by the way.”
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justmeinadaze · 3 days ago
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Hi lovely!! I want to start off by saying how TALENTED YOU ARE, genuinely you are my favourite writer on this platform for Eddie and Steve LOL
I was hoping we could get some more of pornstar! steddie as it is my literal favourite ( Maybe something where the reader is innocent and hasn't had much or any sex and asks them to teach her stuff or something? ) I don't know, if you feel up to writing it you can add anything you want!!
Again, absolutely adore you and your writing, and I hope you are having a wonderful day!!
xo Cherry 💫
A/N: I changed this a bit. I hope that's ok. I didn't want it to be too close or similar to Corroded Corpses "Boys On Film" (Check it out! Its amazing!)
Thank you for your compliments <3. I love you!
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Warnings: Pornstar Steddie/ Plus Size Fem Y/N, established relationship, best friends to lovers, SMUT (dirty talk, 'teaching', facesitting, 69, pretty lady on top). FLUFF. Mentions of reader never having been on top because of her size (brief), she does have some reservations but they squash that.
Word Count: 2786
Steddie Asks/ Donate to Me
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hang on a minute, little lady.”, Eddie practically shouts as you roll your eyes and Steve laughs through his teeth. “You’re telling me that you’ve never ridden a guy before?”
“Ok, this was a mistake. Let’s just pretend I didn’t say anything and keep watching your dirty movie alright?”, you sigh completely flushed with embarrassment.
The three of you had been best friends for so many years and you were never once shy around each other. You had seen them naked and vice versa, openly told the other about any sexual experiences you had or were currently having, and they even opened up to you about signing up to be in a porn film, bringing it over a few months later to show you the finish product. 
But when it came to other aspects of your relationships, you kept things to yourself especially after they beat up one of your ex’s for calling you a “fat slut” when you two got into a fight. 
“No, no. Please, go on. I’d love to hear more because I don’t understand why any man wouldn’t want to watch you bouncing around on top of them.” Again, you tried to shy away but Steve grabbed your hands and moved them away from your face. “Come on, honey. I’m serious. No teasing.”
“I mean…look at her…”, you smile hoping your tone sounds playful as you gesture towards the screen. “I mean…”
“Yeah. That’s a person…Wait…are you an alien?!”
“Stop it, Ed. Yeah, Y/N. We see her…I don’t see a difference though.”
“Really, Steven? You don’t see ANY difference?”, you sass as you get to your feet and place yourself by the tv screen. “NOTHING at all?”
“Are you trying to tell me the reason you’ve never been on top is because you’re curvy?”
“That’s a nice way of putting it, Eddie, but let’s be blunt here. I’m a fat girl. I’m too heavy and add in the fact that no one wants to see my…everything…jiggle.”
“Speak for yourself.”, he mumbles under his breath. 
“Did someone tell you this or is this you?”, Steve asks a bit more forcefully than he meant to. “Because we’ll fucking kill anyone that fucking lied to you like that. If it’s you then we can just spank it out of you.”
Both men smile when you giggle.
“Do you know how? To ride a dick, I mean.”
Your eyes narrow Eddie’s way as he nonchalantly places the beer bottle in his hand on the table beside his bed. 
“I mean…there’s not much to it…I imagine. Why? Wanna teach me, porn star?”
“We can if you want us to.”
Your gaze shifts between theirs waiting for the punch line followed by their infectious laughs that make you feel warm inside and out. But it never comes as they continue to stare at you with their wide, expressive eyes waiting on you to decide. 
“Why?”
“It’s not like we’re making love or anything. We’re just…teaching…It will be like how we were on set except there’s no camera.”
“We know we’re not your type anyway.”, Steve jests as he reaches out to lightly hit your knee. 
“Who says?” That grabs their attention as their heads fully snap in your direction. “I mean, we’ve never really talked about it but I always thought I wasn’t your type. Personally, I think you’re both sweet, funny, attractive…I guess.”
They laugh gently at your joke as you smile their way. 
“Ok!”, Eddie claps his hands loudly together as he bounces off the mattress. “Harrington, you lay on the floor here and Y/N, go ahead and take off everything from the waist down.”
Your eyes widen in amusement as you watch Steve slide off the bed with zero hesitation as he does what his friend suggestions and removes his shirt before tossing it to the side. 
“Are you…are you sure? I don’t…”
“Hey.”, the metalhead coos in a much softer voice as he takes you hand and guides you onto your feet. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Just say the word. We’ll still love you.”
“You promise? I don’t…I can’t lose you two.”
With a tender smile, Eddie cups your face in his hands and brings his lips to your own for a tender kiss. 
“We’re not going anywhere, sweetheart. Cross my heart.”
“And hope to die.”, Steve adds as his fingers comfortingly caress your thigh.
“Well, let’s not go that far.”, you tease, trying to keep the mood light as you remove your shorts and panties. “Now what, Mr. Munson.”
“Oooo I like that.”, he jokes as he guides you to your knees, watching as the other man falls flat on his back and runs his fingers through his hair to push it way from his face. “Ok, now, whenever you’re ready, I want you to place both knees on either side of his head and—”
“You want me to sit on his face?” Eddie’s grin grows as he nods. “I’ve…I’ve never done that either—”
“I figured.”
Smirking, you lightly punch his chest causing both boys to chuckle before suddenly feeling soft kisses trailing up your thigh as Steve sits up on one of his elbows. 
“It’s ok, honey, trust me. I can handle it and if something’s not right I’ll tap your leg three times.”
His beautiful amber eyes watch you carefully as you exhale, allowing you all the time you need before you gradually crane your neck to kiss his lips. 
“Good girl. Come on.”, the former jock praises as you allow them to maneuver you till your lower half was hovering just above him with your hands balancing on his chest and his cling to your thighs. 
“Can, um, can I have a bit more vulnerability?” Eddie’s eyebrows furrow in confusion at your question till you gesture with your head at what you want, laughing as he leans over to unbutton Steve’s jeans to pull them down his ankles. 
“Ay! Be careful down there. I’m not a rag doll.”
You smile as he scolds the metalhead but you can’t help it when a shaky breath leaves you as his admittedly large cock tries to push through the hole in his boxers. 
“Is she turning you on, bud?”
“Fuck off, Munson. It’s just… Y/N, your pussy smells good.” Lifting his head, he presses his nose between your folds and your eyes roll back as his wide tongue follows. 
“God, you look so fucking sexy, sweetheart. N-Now, go ahead and roll your hips a-against his tongue. You can use his chest for balance if you need to.”
Doing as he instructed, you rolled your hips forward, whimpering when he grazed your clit down to your entrance, just barely dipping in before pulling back. You tried again with a bit more confidence causing Steve to groan underneath you as his mouth closed around your little bud.
“D-Did…did I hurt you?”
When he shook his head, he let go of your bundle of nerves with an obscene slurping pop that had your pussy clenching around nothing. 
“No, baby. Fuck, you taste like heaven. You can push down harder if you need to. I’m ok.”
Baby
They’d never called you that before. Hearing it now drove you crazy as your nails dug into his chest and grinded your body against him. 
“Atta girl. You like that? You like hearing him compliment you like that?”, Eddie murmured as he pressed his nose into your cheek and left feathery light kisses along your skin. 
One of Steve’s palms released you and you both watched as he dug into his boxers to free his cock, collecting the copious amount of precum leaking from the tip to use as he stroked himself looking for a much-needed release. 
“O-Ok, fuck, now, I want you to bounce on his tongue, babe. Use your knees to lift yourself up a-and come back down till you feel him deep in that tight little pussy.”
You tried to do what he commanded but there was some self-conscious part of your brain that was terrified of hurting the boy beneath you. Eddie noticed your trepidation, hastily gripping your jaw and turning your eyes to meet his. 
“Don’t. Don’t think about your size or what those other fuckers told you. He said he’d tell you if he needed to stop. Do you not trust him?”
“N-No, I do. I do.”
“Then why are you hesitating?”
“I’m sorry.”, you pant as you push yourself up straighter and utilize your knees to do what he instructed. As your body came back down, Steve’s thick, large tongue filled you so completely that you felt like you wanted to cry from pleasure. “Fuck, Steve. N-No one’s ever…been this deep…”
“You haven’t had me yet, sweetheart. Now, make yourself cum.”
After licking his fingers, Eddie reached between you and matched your rhythm as he messaged your clit. You were suddenly overwhelmed with euphoria as the coil snapped and Steve arms quickly wrapped around your middle, holding you in place as you rode out your high. 
“Good…good girl. Let him lick you clean, pretty girl.”
Your body twitched as you fell against him, his tongue still devouring you but now at a much slower pace. Your heavy eyes glanced towards his length that was now firey red and you couldn’t stop yourself when you carefully circled your fingers around him. 
“Ah, fuck.”, he whined at the sensitivity, seemingly on the edge of a release. Raising your head, you spit over his tip causing his head to hit the floor with a little thunk as he absorbed the feeling of your palm stroking his length. “Fuck, her hand feels good. Her pussy t-tastes amazing, Ed. It’s everything we…”
You couldn’t hear what he mumbled to Eddie as your lips fully enveloped him and all you good manage to absorb was the throbbing of his length on your own tongue. Steve’s fingers tangled in your hair as his hips thrust upwards and you allowed him to use your throat as he chased his high. 
“That’s it, baby. Fuck…fuck! M’gonna cum.”
His seed spurted its warmth as he grunted in pleasure above you. After swallowing everything he had to give, you kissed his tip and he lazily man-handled you around till your face was level with his so he could passionately kiss your lips. 
“Are you ready for your second lesson, Y/N?”
At the sound of his strained tone, your gaze shifted towards Eddie who had his cock in his hand that now look just as red and angry as Steve’s had.
“Yes, Mr. Munson. I’m ready.”
Smirking at your answer, he lifted you effortlessly into his arms and climbed back on to his mattress with you on top of him straddling his waist. As he reached for the pack of condoms on his bed side table, your hand extended out to stop him. 
“I’m, um, I’m on the pill. I mean if you want to.”
Blinking, you noticed his confident demeanor faulter slightly. 
“Are you sure? With everything we do…on set and…”
“Are you safe?”
“Yeah, yeah, princess, I’m clean. I…we just understand that…you may have a viewpoint of us…”
Placing your palms under his ears, you softly kiss his lips as your thumbs caress his cheeks. 
“Did someone tell you this or is this you?”, you echo their words from earlier. “Because I’ll kick anyone’s ass who—”
“Yeah, yeah, ya dork.”, he jests as he playfully smacks your behind. “Ok, I’ve, um, I’ve never done it raw so…if your pussy is as good as Steve says it is…I may ruin this particular lesson by busting too soon.”
Giggling at his now nervous demeanor, you lift off your shirt and toss it towards the other boy who catches it midair before throwing it on the floor near your pants so he can climb in beside you both. 
“I like this bra. It’s cute.”, Steve compliments as his fingers trace the black lace while Eddie’s own hands rub up and down your sides.
“Whenever you’re ready, baby, just slide down onto my dick. Take your time, there’s no rush.”
Nodding, Eddie holds his shaft as your entrance hovers just above him. Just the warmth alone that’s radiating from your cunt has his cock twitching before you slowly begin to descend onto him. 
“Shit.”
“What? Did I do s-something? Am I—”
His ringed hand clasps over your mouth as his other keeps you in place. 
“No. You’re not too heavy. Stop thinking about all that bullshit. Fuck, I really am going to fucking cum before she even moves.”
Steve grins at the man’s words as he winks at you reassuringly. Knowing that he’s alright, you continue to lower your body, taking him in inch by inch till you feel him fully sheathed inside you. 
“Eddie.”
“How does it feel, baby?”
“So…deep. Feels different…better…”
“Go—Go ahead and roll your hips.” You do as he says, repeating your movements you had done with the other boy causing an electricity to shoot through you as his cock grazes something inside you that you weren’t even sure was there. 
“Oh my god.”
“There’s the spot.”, he whispered. “Take over, Y/N. Balance on my chest and hit that spot, baby girl. Fuck, your pussy is squeezing me so tight.”
While you ride his length, you don’t notice the way your tummy jiggles or that from his angle you may not look flattering. All you can focus on is him and how he feels inside you. With every press of that button, you whimper and mewl his name causing you to clench tighter to him as he groans at the sound of you moaning. When you’re finally able to open your eyes to look at him, you notice his chocolate ones are zeroed in on where you two connected as his hands absently guide your movements on your waist. 
Occasionally, his gaze shifts to your breasts as he licks his lips at the sight and desperate to please him, you reach behind you to undo the clasp, throwing it to the ground. Leaning up towards your chest, Eddie wraps his mouth around one of your nipples and your fingers thread through his hair as you grind your hips against his. 
“So fucking beautiful. Cum for me, baby.”
Pushing at his chest, you chase your high and he bites his bottom lip at the sight as you finally truly take over. Your body shudders as your rhythm stutters and your pussy quivers as you come undone. It’s more than Eddie can handle and his grip becomes almost bruising as he guides your sloppy movements till you feel him empty deep inside you. 
“F-Fuck…oh, careful, pretty girl.”, he coos as you wince when you try to lift your body off his. “Can, um, is it ok if I hold you like this?”
Smiling, you nod as lay your head under his chin and he circles his arms around you so he can play with your hair. 
“In a minute we can take a shower and get you clean.”, he whispered as they both listened to you steadily breathe.
“Am I your type?” Confusion paints both their features and you push up on your knees so you could see them both. “You said you weren’t my type but I said that you were. Am I yours?”
Their gaze shifts to each other before Steve chuckles under his breath. 
“You didn’t hear what I said, did you? I said that your pussy was everything we ever talked about it being. That’s not all we talk about though. You’re kind and strong—”
“Sarcastic as fuck.”, Eddie cuts in making you laugh. 
“You’re so gorgeous, honey. When we were shooting our scenes we, uh, we pretended she was you.”
Both men sit up with the metalhead holding your body to keep you against him. 
“If you want this to be a onetime thing we understand but if not…”
“We’d like to take you on a date.”
“Maybe give you some more lessons.”
“Hey now. I’m sure I can teach you both a thing or two.”, you giggle as they beam up at you with nothing but care. “Ok, as long as you can promise me that no matter what I won’t lose you. You’ve been my best friends for so long and I love you so much.”
Placing his hand on the back of your neck, Eddie guides your lips to his. 
“What did I say, babe? We’ll always be here, no matter what. Cross my heart.”, he grins as he does the gesture over his chest and Steve follows, finishing it by grabbing your cheeks in both his massive palms to kiss you. 
200 notes · View notes
mvrdermeharder · 2 days ago
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Ooh this is seems fun, thank you for tagging me Pixie!💞
Age: 20
Height: 166/167cm but i’m not sure lol (that should be 5’6 in freedom units)
Grade: 1st year in university
Confidence: 3/10 in general, but i’m a very good actor, others always say i look exceptionally confident. When i’m dancing and/or on stage my confidence is 10/10, literally nothing else makes me feel so alive. (This year i haven’t been able to dance at all and i miss it terribly.)
Happiness: honestly? 2/10 and i can’t see the score getting better, i’ve been feeling lower and lower.
Gender: cis fem, can’t see it changing.
Sexuality: pretty sure i’m bi, and i think i’m more attracted to women sexually. Men too, but mostly when i’m drunk.
Romantic: Bi, although i think i’d prefer to date a woman.
Fav food: mm idk honestly… it used to be ice cream, but lately i’m not finding any joy/pleasure in eating, even when it comes to my old favorites. So that sucks ig.
Fav show: i love Gumball and Young Sheldon (bittersweet nostalgia) and my all time favorite series is Devilman Crybaby. It always makes me cry, it’s such a beautiful story, and the OST is simply incredible.
Fav movie: Nausicaä by Hayao Miyazaki (saw it first when i was 9, and it never fails to make me cry to this day) and Moulin Rouge, which i’d discovered recently: watched it drunk with a friend and got teary-eyed haha (the visual and choreographed storytelling is insane, if nothing else, watch the Roxanne choreo)
Fav song: When the sun hits by Slowdive is my absolute favorite rn, it makes me tear up. Close seconds are Doll by Shrimp, Leach boy by Crywank, Black out days by Phantogram, Solitaire by Fiancé, Tip Toes by Half•alive (they all make me cry lol)
Fav artist: Grimes, i love her albums up to 2020, and i’m obsessed with her fashion sense, tattoos and just her whole look in general (less so abt her politics/behavior/use of ai…) Other artists i love are Slowdive, Interpol, David Bowie, Tame Impala… just to name a few, but i could go on forever, i’m a huge music lover.
Relationship status: single, i would love to have a girlfriend and to make her happy.
Fav color: a comforting and sensual burgundy, but i also love a chilling icy-blue that makes me feel cold.
Fav season: maybe spring… it’s magical to see the world and nature come alive. But lately, i’ve started to appreciate how breathtaking a cold and barren winter is. So maybe i’m leaning more towards winter.
Followers: 115 but about 57 of them don’t have a title/pfp, so i suspect some these might be bots lol
Wow this got unnecessarily lengthy jfc. And shit, i’ve learned that all my fav things make me cry what the hell. This got so pathetic for what?? (.. at least i tried being honest for once in my life lol)
Tagging you @sailorzzzrenn @miyamiwu @ze-gnomo-das-novinha if you’re interested, but absolutely no pressure♡
+ If some of my other mutuals or followers want to join, please do so! I’d love to see more ppl join if interested<3
End of year stats!
Age: won’t say but minor
Height: 5’5
Grade: won’t say
Confidence: 7/10
Happiness: 5/10
Gender: gender fluid
Sexuality: asexual
Romantic: aroflux
Fav food: probably ramen?
Fav show: b99
Fav movie: not any
Fav song: too many to pick!!!
Fav artist: wallows or dayglow
Relationship status: single
Fav colour: green
Fav season: winter
Followers: 358 (as of Dec 29 at 2 am)
2K notes · View notes
soobnara · 3 days ago
Text
like clockwork / c.sb
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soobin x reader
summary: in a world where love is given an expiration date, you find your forever home in an unexpected place.
word count: 10.1k
tags: soulmate!au, best friends to lovers, mostly romance + fluff, fake dating if you squint, reader is afab w/ gender neutral pronouns + fem terms (noona) used
author's note: finally got around to finishing this... it's been a long while coming and i couldn't get myself to write for various reasons and i'm so happy it's all done and out there! (also for any black mirror fans out there, yes this is loosely based on the 'hang the dj' episode but way more lighthearted and with a dash of soulmate brainrot) hope you enjoy and wishing everyone a wonderful holiday season <3
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For as long as Soobin can remember, he’s been counting down the days. 
To summer vacation, to the end of his shift at his part time job, to the start of a long awaited trip, to anything. But there’s something else that counts down on his behalf, something that he doesn’t particularly want to count.
That something is inlaid in a nondescript watch wrapped around his wrist. Everyone gets one once they turn 18, and as far as he’s concerned, its only purpose is to ruin relationships. The cruel hands of time assign a “best by” date to each romantic encounter, flashing on the screen from the first meeting, with each failure promising to lead the user closer and closer to their fated lover. If you ask Soobin, it’s all bullshit. How would a stupid watch know anything about fate, anyways?
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It’s a typical Thursday night, and Soobin’s mindlessly scrolling through Time to Love, the government mandated dating app that all phones come with, as per usual when he can’t decide on something to watch. He has yet to meet the weekly two date quota, having only gone on one on Tuesday (important to note that he’s already forgotten his name), and he’s running out of time, and he really can’t afford to pay that 100,000 won fine this week. Well, he can’t afford to pay it at any point in time, but this week’s been especially rough on him, and he doesn’t want to shell out any more of his meager savings just because he couldn’t get a date, of all things. 
The names and faces on his phone screen are a blur as his thumb swipes left aimlessly– he doesn’t really give that much of a shit who he ends up with, because at the end of the day, he’ll say “No” when the app asks him if he’d liked them and give them a terrible review saying they were incompatible, because frankly, the algorithm seems to always be wrong when it comes to his matches. Either that, or it’s because he cares so little that he doesn’t bother properly vetting his matches.
He’s resigned himself to his fate anyways; he’ll fill up his progress bar with a bunch of shitty matches until the algorithm decides it’s time for him to settle down, then when he finds his “soulmate” (if you could even call it that), he’ll just be doomed to a loveless arranged marriage set in place by a computer and die unhappy. He can’t envision happiness ever coming out of something so lifeless, so cold, so that’s just how it has to be. At least it gives him something to do instead of rewatching the same three anime series over and over again.
Whatever– he’ll just swipe right on the next person and go on yet another unmemorable date tomorrow. Lee Saerom, the profile reads. She’s exceptionally pretty, he has to admit, and she’s an artist, (and she’s older, but don’t ask him about that) so he’ll just ask her about her work and let her ramble for the allotted two hours while he smiles and nods.
He swipes right, and a bright pink heart pattern fills his screen, signifying a successful match. Obnoxious. It’s replaced with a time and a place, and he lets out a groan. Congratulations! Your date is scheduled for 6pm, at the Coffee Shop. He was supposed to meet you at 7 tomorrow for your usual Friday night updates. 
Fuck. What if the date goes on longer than an hour?
He’s never been late for your weekly meetups, but he figures you’ll understand, since it’s completely out of his control.
Surely you won’t kill him, right?
Just in case, he recites a prayer to himself before he tucks in for the night.
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You’re already nursing your third vodka soda of the night and Soobin is still nowhere to be found, which is unusual. He’s never been the most punctual person, but standing you up for an hour after your usual meeting time isn’t like him, either. He said he’d be late, but he didn’t specify how late… you’ll grill him later when he explains himself, and you’ll make him buy you a drink or two as compensation. With the comfort of a free drink in mind, you’re about to order your fourth round when Soobin finally stumbles in through the door of the bar, eyes scanning each booth until his gaze lands on you, and with an apologetic smile, he’s sliding into the seat across from you. 
He gestures to your glass, brow curled upwards, which you know means he’s teasing you. “What number is this one, noona? You always polish these things off like they’re nothing.”
“This is number three, with number four on the way, and that’s because they are. You owe me at least two for taking so long to get here, asshole.” You let out an indignant huff as you slurp the last of the cocktail through your straw, lips jutting in a comical pout.
“Okay, okay. Next one’s on me.” Soobin relents with an endeared laugh, waving down the waitstaff and ordering a beer for himself, along with another vodka soda for you. 
“Okay, now spill.”
“What? Am I supposed to have some hot gossip for you? Don’t make me guess about what drama I’ve somehow found myself in on accident.” He’s visibly confused, brows knitted together, and you roll your eyes at him.
“Obviously the only reason you would ever skip out on your dear noona was if TTL scheduled you for a date during our usual time, so spill. How bad was this one?” 
His lips part in understanding, (you can practically see the figurative lightbulb flickering on) head bobbing in an exaggerated nod before pulling his phone out, hand outstretched to show you his date’s profile. “I mean, she was okay, I guess. Pretty girl, and she was older, but she spent the entirety of our time slot babbling about her latest art project and how it’s supposedly going to blow away the industry. Which is fine, I guess, because you know I hate talking on these dates, but if she said “brush technique” and “negative space” one more time I think I would’ve tried to drown myself in my caffe mocha. The app thought so too, I guess, because when we checked our expiration date, it was exactly an hour from the start time, so it’s not like I missed out on my forever soulmate or whatever.”
Each TTL date is scheduled for an arbitrary amount of time, depending on your expiration date, which is determined from the first moment you meet– sometimes it’s just a few minutes, an hour or two, and anything longer than 24 hours is given a two hour time slot maximum. There’s supposedly an extremely rare case where you aren’t given an expiration date from the get go, regardless of your progress, meaning that you’ve found your soulmate by sheer luck, but it’s almost unheard of– most people don’t find their soulmates until they’ve completely filled up their bars, something about needing ample data to calculate optimal compatibility.
You ogle at his phone screen for a bit– she really was stunning– then guffaw at the thought of Soobin nodding halfheartedly, listening to a pretty girl talk his ear off, when most men would probably kill to be in his position. “Damn, if even an older woman that pretty can’t hold your attention, and the app confirms that, you know it’s bad… So, where does that put your progress at? Weren’t you at like, 80% last week?”
Soobin’s face practically scrunches in on itself at your remark, tapping the app once more to check his updated progress bar. “I’m going to ignore that. I’m at… 88% after I reviewed Saerom and that guy from earlier in the week. Guess it wasn’t a total waste if I got 8% closer to completion. What are you at now?”
You lift your phone to open TTL, your progress bar only having inched 2% closer to completion after your date yesterday. “75% now. I think the algorithm is personally fucking me over, or something. My last few matches have been nice enough, but I cannot keep up with their energy. It’s wringing me dry. I must be the only person in the entire world who doesn’t want a golden retriever for a partner. My date yesterday just about knocked me out for good, he was that energetic.”
“Tell me about it,” Soobin commiserates. “I’ve very clearly expressed my distaste for bubbly and talkative people who probably peaked in high school, but that’s all they’re spitting out in my for you page. No offense to them, I don’t think I’ve met any straight up assholes since that one girl from last year, but it’s like the app is purposely recommending the most incompatible people to me– wait, yesterday? And I didn’t hear about this?”
You give him a pointed look, silently conveying that he also didn’t inform you of his date today until ten minutes ago. He gets the message and holds his hands up in defeat, then gestures for you to speak, dimples peeking out as he purses his lips. You sigh, rubbing your temples as you recall the most chaotic two hours of the week, maybe even your life.
“Okay, look… for the record, he was very nice to me, a perfect gentleman, but my god, could that guy talk. He was practically falling at his knees trying to impress me, which would’ve earned him a few points in my book, but his mouth was moving maybe five miles a minute at all times without a moment of rest. It was like watching a child hopped up on sugar, to be honest. He talked for forty whole minutes nonstop about pizza. Don’t even get me started on how passionate he was about his workout routine.”
Your drinks finally come around, and Soobin hands you your frosted glass, which you gratefully take a long sip out of before continuing. “And before you say anything, no, he was nothing like Kai. Also, Kai is literally like my child, and just because I babysat him all those years does not mean I want to date someone like him.”
Soobin parts his lips to respond, then scrunches his nose in distaste as you take the words right of his mouth, opting to down his drink instead. “You’re no fun.”
“But that’s why you love me, right?”
“Sure, noona, sure.”
“That’s it, asshole, you owe me another drink.”
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Sunday rolls around, which means you’ve got to start scoping out this week’s dates– you hate leaving anything to the last minute, and you like to leave the end of your week as free as possible (no one is prying your precious rest time from you, not even a beautiful person with the world’s best personality). 
Which means you’re mindlessly swiping through a sea of profiles, hoping you find someone that’s at least remotely interesting. You’re prepared for a long night of doom scrolling, but you stop cold in your tracks as you come across a familiar name and face, and a lump forms in your throat.
Choi Soobin.
The algorithm is really fucking with you now. It has to be. You’ve never once even considered your best friend as a potential suitor, not because he isn’t insanely attractive and charming (and funny, and easy to talk to, and…), but because he’s your best friend. You’ve known him for so long, you’ve seen him cry when he couldn’t get the Pokemon card he wanted when he was young enough to need allowance to buy it, and he’s seen you for long enough to know you threw the nastiest toddler tantrums over being denied an ice cream purchase– the point is that you know him a little too well, and you know from experience that that’s not always ideal in romance. 
But you have been having terrible luck with your matches for so long, and two hours of Soobin’s undivided attention doesn’t seem so bad, and it would be a good time, at least…
You kick yourself mentally for even thinking of it. He’s your best friend, for god’s sake.
Yet your thumb continues to hover over his profile, quivering as you make the motion to swipe right on him without touching the screen. The guilt and the risk of maybe ruining your friendship forever clearly isn’t enough to stop you from considering him. 
The gentle, familiar smile that he’s sporting in his profile picture pierces your heart, and you’re not sure why. Maybe you’ve always had a thing for him unconsciously, maybe you just want someone who actually gets you, maybe you’re just running out of options. Or maybe you’re just tired of chasing after something you know is futile, and you want to take a chance on something, on someone, that might actually be good for you. On someone that you know would be good to you, and for you.
And so, with bated breath, you swipe right.
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[Time to Love: Y/N has liked you! Open the app for more details.]
To say Soobin is struck with disbelief would be an understatement. He’s practically gaping at his phone, and he knows you’d be laughing your ass off and making fun of him if you could see him. But it’s precisely that typical flippant attitude of yours that’s got him perplexed about this development.
He’d be lying if he said he’s never once thought of you that way– he’s always thought you were pretty and kind hearted, despite your temper, and you’ve always been there for him, through thick and thin, even when he was being kind of a dick. That definitely counts for something. But he’s never thought about crossing that boundary, because 1) he’s not allowed to pursue anyone he doesn’t match with through the app anyways, and 2) matching with you could make or break your bond forever (he’s leaning towards break, though, because like he said, the watch is bullshit). In short, he’s a fucking coward and a little too cynical for his own good. 
But here it is, an opportunity for a date with you, in all its glory, and initiated by you, no less. He should be celebrating, or at least hyped up, because maybe it’ll all work out, maybe this is the solution to all his lukewarm matches over the last few months, but instead he’s downright terrified. There’s absolutely no way that you both come out of this unscathed. There’s no such thing as a perfect forever if it’s decided by a computer. There can’t possibly be a happy ending at the end of this road.
He shakes his head, as if it would clear his head of the panicked thoughts. You’re still his best friend, at the end of the day, he tells himself, and he’s sure that you’ll fight just as hard as he will to keep him in your life. So he holds onto the tiniest sliver of hope that somehow your relationship doesn’t crash and burn spectacularly, opens the app, and swipes right on you.
Congratulations! Your date is scheduled for 3pm, at the Aquarium. 
A new notification pops up. Soobin’s heart stirs.
y/n noona: see you tomorrow ♥️
He feels guilty as a wave of excitement washes over him. He shouldn’t be feeling like this. You’re his best friend. His dear noona. He may as well be signing away your friendship for good. But it’d be worse if he didn’t match your enthusiasm.
soob: yup, see you tomorrow noona :]
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It’s only 5 minutes past the scheduled meeting time, and already Soobin’s panicking that you’ve changed your mind and cancelled on him, writing this off as a mistake. He’s trying his very best to remain nonchalant, it’s just a date with his best friend, who he might have a sapling of a crush on, no big deal, right? Or maybe it is for the best if you cancel, then he’d have one less crippling fear to worry about.
He’s rethinking his outfit for the umpteenth time– he didn’t want to look like he was trying too hard, not in front of you because you’d probably think it was silly, but he also doesn’t want you thinking he shows up to dates looking like a slob. (For the record, he thinks he’s got a decent sense of fashion. He’s better than Kai, at least, though that isn’t saying much.) He’s internally debating if he should’ve gone with the navy polo shirt instead of the grey cardigan draped over his shoulders, or if he should’ve gone with the black slacks instead of the light wash jeans, but his jumbled thoughts dissipate as you tap on his shoulder, shit-eating grin and all. 
“What’s with you, Soob? You look like the fate of the universe depends on you, and you only have 5 minutes to save all of humanity.” You tease, nudging your shoulder against his. Oh, if only you knew what was really weighing on him.
He has half a mind to swat your shoulder, but he’s a little too aware that the two of you are supposed to be on a date, so instead he shoves his hands into his pockets. To his surprise, you’re more dressed up than usual, (he’s used to seeing you exclusively in oversized hoodies) and– wait, you two are practically matching, from the grey cardigan, light wash jeans, all the way down to the white sneakers. The only difference is that you’ve buttoned up your cardigan so that it functions more as a blouse, but you two clearly have definitely mastered the art of accidental couple looks.
“Okay, awkward… one of us has to change.” He teases in an attempt to ease his own racing mind, dimples peeking out as he stifles a laugh. You let out an indignant huff, pushing his massive frame with no success. He doesn’t even budge.
“Not my fault that you’re trying to steal my look. I wore it better, by the way,” You retort, but truth be told, you’re reeling at the sight of him. You’ve only ever seen him in his stuffy work attire and the worn-out, faded shirts he refuses to throw out, and seeing him in a comparably softer, more preppy look is making you see him with new eyes.
You shake your head, as if doing so will reset your perspective to factory settings and make you see him as just your best friend again. (spoiler alert: it doesn’t. Soobin is still handsome and he looks very cute, and you’re still very much affected by it.) “Okay, so. First things first. Should we check our apps? To see if, like, we’re compatible, or I don’t know.” Your voice is stiff, like you’re buffering, and you don’t think you’ve ever been this awkward around Soobin, at least not since the day you met.
Soobin turns up his nose in disagreement and covers his watch screen and yours. “Nah, that’s bullshit. It’s already all decided, isn’t it? It’s been decided from the second we stepped into the aquarium. No point in checking now, we should decide for ourselves if this is something we want to pursue, instead of letting some computer dictate that. When it’s over, it’s over, and we can just go back to being friends, right?”
“Well, I think it’s probably better to know when to give this a rest, instead of constantly wondering if my best friend is set to be my long-term romantic partner, or whatever.” You had a point. But a part of Soobin didn’t feel ready to face the fact that you might not want to see him again like this. A much smaller part of him is still fearful that you two might not be able to turn back from this.
“Okay, okay, fine. We can check it–but not now. If we make it to a third date, then we can check how long we have. But you have to be honest and not touch it whatsoever.” Soobin doesn’t make any move to mention that he isn’t interested in seeing you again, but you don’t want to just assume that he’s into you, so you test the waters.
“Okay, I promise to be honest. But why the third date? Are you really that keen on seeing me?” You’re trying to be teasing, but you feel more desperate than anything.
Soobin doesn’t answer for a moment, and you think that you’ve said the wrong thing. Just as you’re about to apologize, he replies, “If we make it to a third date… then I’ll know whether we’re actually giving this a proper shot and not just for shits and giggles or as an escape from our other failed connections.”
His sincerity both surprises and flatters you, and you can’t tell if you’re supposed to be frozen in shock or hugging him, or a secret third thing, so you just stay still, absently fiddling with your fingers.
When you look up again, Soobin’s holding out his hand, and you look at him with obvious confusion. Rolling his eyes, he takes your hand in his, lips pursed into a thin line. You want to make some clever jab at him, but his hands are warm and soft and they practically swallow up your much smaller ones, and you’re filled with a wash of emotions so intense that you can’t muster up the strength to retort.
Soobin notices that you’re still visibly perplexed, and he mutters. “We’re on a date, you know. We’ve got to act the part.” It’s a half truth at best; he does want to give this date a proper chance, but selfishly, he really just wants to hold your hand for two hours. If you catch onto his white lie, you don’t show it, but he doesn’t miss the rosy hue that colors your cheeks as you nod.
He’s right, you think– it is a date, and you’re the one who swiped on him first, so the least you can do is treat him like a possible suitor and not just your best friend. He deserves that much, at least, and you need to know whether this bundle of butterflies in your stomach is a passing feeling or a dull ache you’ve forgotten about, so you let him lead you into the dimly lit array of fish tanks.
You’re noticing a lot of things about Soobin.
You notice that Soobin’s eyes practically twinkle when he gets excited. It’s never been something you’ve taken note of, but you can’t help but notice it now, every time he points out a species of fish he recognizes. It’s cute. You’re not sure if you’re supposed to find your best friend cute, but you do.
You notice how his comically long fingers slot in between yours, and you’re really starting to like how it feels, though you’d die of embarrassment if you admitted as much. 
Not to mention he’s an absolutely perfect gentleman. He’s constantly asking you if you want something to eat, if you’re tired, if you’re cold, and you let him know that you’re fine each time. When you accidentally pull apart your shoelaces, he’s quick to kneel down and tie them up for you. When he stops to grab himself a bottle of juice, he offers one to you, too.
Had Soobin always been this pretty? So cute? And so sweet? How had you never taken notice of him like this all these years? (You know the answer to that, but you’re still surprised at what you’re noticing nonetheless.)
Soobin catches you staring at him while you’re both supposed to be looking at a school of clownfish, and you expect him to make some egotistical joke at your expense, but instead he gives you a warm smile, eyes crinkling into crescents, and god dammit to hell, you melt. 
The two hours pass by like nothing, and unlike your past few dates, you’re dreading the end of it, and you wish that the beep signifying it’s over would never come. To your disappointment, he releases your hand as you approach the entrance, and your hand is already missing his warmth. You turn to face him; well, not really, because you can’t bear to make eye contact with him, not when you spent the better part of two hours shamelessly ogling at him.
His voice cuts in between the thoughts rattling around in your head, and he sounds so apprehensive that it worries you. “Can I ask you something? No, wait, can you promise me something?”
You know how seriously Soobin takes his promises, so you’re a little scared for what he’s going to say next, but you nod anyway.
“Promise me that if this doesn’t work out, we’ll still be friends. Please.” The last word is so quiet that you almost miss it, and when you finally muster the courage to meet his gaze, he’s giving you a pleading look so earnestly that it breaks your heart a little. 
“I promise– no, I pinky promise. We’ll be friends, no matter what.”
Since he was younger, Soobin’s held the belief that pinky promises are binding, and he knows that you know this, so you hold out your pinky, hoping that this can ease whatever worries he has on his mind.
You pinky promised. Soobin knows that it’s your unspoken way of assuring him (you’ve never been the most verbally affectionate, anyways), a quiet way of letting him know that he means just as much to you as you do to him. He links pinkies with you to seal the promise, feeling just a little bit lighter as you both make your way to the subway station together, shoulders bumping all the while.
Soobin just really, really hopes that you’ll be able to keep that promise.
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[How would you rate your date?]
[★★★★★]
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Congratulations! Your next date is scheduled for 8pm tonight, at the Night Market.
You shouldn’t be surprised that your next date with Soobin comes so soon– you still have your weekly quotas to meet, and the app always schedules dates within 24 hours of matching or a positive rating, but truth be told, your surprise is solely because you just don’t know how to face him. You two had made that pinky promise to stay friends regardless of the circumstances, but you’d also resolved to treat him like a potential suitor while you two are seeing each other, so where does that leave you? 
Well, it leaves you in front of the closet with no idea what to wear. You want to look good (for Soobin, but you’re in denial at the moment), but it’s just a night market, and you know you’ll never hear the end of it if Soobin catches on that you went through lengths just to impress him.
Speaking of the devil, your phone flickers on to reveal a text from him, and you scoff as you scan its contents.
soob: so i hear you enjoyed our date
y/n noona: ignoring that. anyways
y/n noona: what’s the deal for tonight
y/n noona: i need to know asap
soob: aw, noona, do you want to see me again that badly? i’m excited, see you later tonight ♥️
y/n noona: shut up, you clearly want to see me again too. don’t be late or i’m stealing your wallet later 
y/n noona: i'm asking what’s the dress code, are we matching again :p
soob: i mean, if you insist… 🙄 i knew you wanted me
y/n noona: nvm you’re getting me in a hoodie and my raggedy sweats with the hole in the knee, fuck you
soob: no no i take it back i’m sorry 
y/n noona: ok fine you get spared just this once
y/n noona: [IMG_3687.jpg]
y/n noona: final outfit check. if we’re going to be matching it will be your decision so choose wisely
soob: wait that’s not fair
soob: noona come back
soob: DON’T LEAVE ME HANGING LIKE THIS
[y/n noona has “Liked” your message]
soob: you are so mean to me
You let out a sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding when Soobin arrives, clad in a blue flannel that’s nearly identical to yours, black tee, beige cargos, and a black shoulder bag. You’d been hoping he would follow through, and there’s a small surge of pride at how you’ll be walking around the market, hand in hand, in matching outfits, but there’s something you hadn’t been counting on.
He’s wearing his glasses. 
You’ve always known that Soobin doesn’t have the best eyesight (he’s constantly squinting to see things, but so do you), but now that you’re seeing him in a new light, his usual black frames are suddenly the most attractive thing in the world, and you may as well be holding a neon sign that blares “I HEART NERDS” for him to see.
You make a painfully pathetic attempt to mask your delight by waving at him with a grin, and thankfully Soobin doesn’t notice, or if he does, he doesn’t make any show of it, and instead he simply salutes at you with two fingers and cracks a grin. As he sidles up to you, his large hand slips into yours with a little too much ease, fingers immediately interlocking with yours, and it sends your head into a frenzy all over again. As if he’s aware that your mind is going haywire, Soobin leans down towards you, and for a second you think he’s going to kiss you.
You’re frantically trying to make some motion to stop him, it’s so sudden and your cheeks are way too hot now, and he’s way too close, and your damn arms won’t budge–
“I hope you came ready to eat. I came armed with a fuck load of cash because I am going to stuff myself silly with food, and I am not getting turned away by the ‘cash only’ booths.” There’s a fire of determination in Soobin’s eyes, paired with a wide grin, and you don’t know whether to be concerned for him or for yourself, but nonetheless, you’re a little relieved that you completely misread the situation. Before you can say anything in response, though, he’s dragging you towards the sweeping lines of booths, already making a beeline for some takoyaki. 
The tray full of octopus balls in Soobin’s hands is steaming and they smell absolutely mouthwatering, and, in true Soobin fashion, he gets over excited and tries to pop the entire thing in his mouth in one go. He immediately regrets it, of course, because immediately he’s whining over the fact that his tongue is now most definitely burnt and numb from the piping hot orb of batter he’d just tried to scarf down. You might be finding him insanely attractive now, but he’s still as clumsy as ever, and you can’t stifle the laughter that bubbles in your throat at the sight.
“Dumbass… you should know damn well that you shouldn’t put a whole takoyaki in your mouth like that.” You tease, snickering as he fans his tongue once he swallows.
“Shut up! I couldn’t help myself!” He lets out a childish huff, stuffing another ball into his mouth with a comically exaggerated pout, and consequently huffing and puffing at the heat that blooms in his mouth once more. The whole display is undeniably adorable, and it takes all of the willpower you have to resist the burning desire to squish his cheeks. 
The tray of takoyaki is polished off in no time, and a bowl of bingsu, a cup of fish cake soup, two sticks of tanghulu, a plate of sweet rice cakes, an ice cream cone, and a million other things you lost track of follow suit into the bottomless pit that seems to be Soobin’s stomach. He wasn’t kidding when he said he came ready to eat– he’s plowing through the booths like it’s his last meal on Earth. He’s gracious enough to offer you half of his portions, at least, so it’s not like he’s leaving you to starve. (you’d kill him if he did, though.) Once he’s had his fill, his lips curl up into a mischievous grin as he jabs his thumb in the direction of a different section of the market, one filled with countless games: target shooting, beanbag toss, darts– the row of booths seems to stretch on forever. 
“Oh, you’re on, Soob. Don’t think I’m going easy on you because we’re on a date.”
“Yeah? Don’t think I’m going easy on you because you’re older.”
Contrary to both of your words, Soobin is absolutely fucking terrible at the beanbag toss, despite his long arms definitely giving him an advantage, and you’re no good at shooting or throwing and aiming at anything, really, so the two of you leave each booth with empty hands, though you’re laughing as if you’ve hit the jackpot.
Even though you two fail spectacularly at every single game they have available, you’re suddenly aware of how much your cheeks hurt. From smiling. From laughing. When was the last time that happened on a date? Or ever, even?
Soobin ventures off on his own while you’re lost in thought, and he returns from his little solo adventure with yet another serving of tanghulu (the third one of the night: strawberry for him, tangerine for you this time). You’re reaching out to grab the sweet from his outstretched hand, when suddenly you jump as loud popping sounds blare overhead. There’s a beat of silence before a flurry of colorful lights blooms in the sky, and your shoulders relax once you realize it’s just fireworks.
You’re admiring the colors and shapes of the fireworks display as you crunch on your tanghulu, and you’re so enraptured you almost miss the feeling of someone’s gaze on you. Almost.
When you turn to confirm your suspicions, you’re right, it’s Soobin who’s staring at you, but he’s staring at you so intently, with such intensity, that you immediately grow flustered– he’s never looked at you like that before– and you’re immensely thankful that the flashes of light in the sky mask the rosy hue that’s surely staining your cheeks. Just when you’re about to swing your head away to focus your attention on the fireworks once more, his hand flies out to cradle your chin in his palm, keeping your gaze fixated on him. 
Then he’s closing the distance, slowly but surely, fixated on you all the while to gauge your reaction, and even though you’re frozen in shock, you don’t think you would’ve moved, anyways. Your eyes flutter shut at the last minute, nerves getting the better of you, until his lips brush against yours tentatively, as if he’s hesitating, holding back.
You meet his gaze once more, and neither of you say a word, you just nod in response to the pleading look in his eyes, as if asking your permission. He breaks out into the most beautiful smile, one that you wish you could snap a mental photo of and tuck away in a safe place in your mind, and then he’s kissing you. Actually kissing you.
He kisses you with such fervor, as if he’s been wanting to do this his whole life, and you can’t help the way you practically melt in his hold, pressing yourself against his broad figure. The fireworks display is all but forgotten, the only thing on either of your minds being the way your lips meld into each other, and the way your hands clasp together.
Soobin’s in a daze when you two finally break away for a much-needed breath, and you’re sure you look like you’re in an equally hazy state. For a moment, you two are dead silent, staring at each other, with only the sound of your soft pants and the popping of fireworks in the background to fill the silence.
Soobin is the one who breaks the silence first, smiling sheepishly as he rubs the nape of his neck. “To be honest, I’ve… I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”
Your eyes are as wide as saucers, and you can feel your jaw go slack in shock. Soobin had been wanting to kiss you. Soobin has thought about kissing you. Your best friend Soobin wanted to kiss you.
“Why didn’t you?” You reply without thinking, but really, you know very well exactly why he’s never done it. He’s your best friend, always has been, and he’d be doing much more than fucking up your friendship by kissing you before you two matched. Naturally, Soobin leaves that question unanswered, posing a question of his own instead.
“What made you match with me?”
“Well…” You don’t know what to say. You don’t want to rattle off a list of qualities that make him desirable– you’re already feeling flustered enough after he kissed you like that, and you’re not looking to inflate his stupid ego or risk being the butt of his teasing. But you want to be honest with him. You don’t want him thinking his suppressed desire has been one-sided all this time.
“I guess I’ve always wondered what it would be like to go on a date with you. We wouldn’t be bored, we would know how to keep each other happy, and understand each other, that kind of thing… and I was a little tired of seeing you go through all those people you didn’t click with, who didn’t get you, especially not the way I did. You know I’ve never liked the people you were seeing, and I was always annoyed by the idiots you dated in high school, and all your stupid matches… I always thought everyone took you for granted, and no one seemed to care about actually getting to know you. I thought I was just looking out for you, caring about you, as your best friend, but maybe I was actually just jealous.”
“Jealous? Really?” He looks so incredulous it embarrasses you that you have to clarify further. 
“Yes, jealous… I especially hated what’s-her-name, Hyeji? That one student council girl who dumped you in front of the whole school.”
Soobin grimaces at the mention of her name, and you can’t help the relief you feel at his response. “Ugh, her. Led me on for months because she thought I was cute and then when we started dating she nitpicked every single thing I did, all because I wasn’t the suave drama lead of her dreams and then dumped me because she couldn’t change me. You know she threw away a whole pack of my Pokemon cards because she thought it was ‘too nerdy’?”
“See? This is what I mean. None of your romantic partners actually seem to appreciate you as you are. And so I don’t know, something came over me, and I wanted to see if I could do a good job because I  know I appreciate you for who you are and now I’m confused, and I feel like I’ve ruined our friendship forever, and–”
To your relief, Soobin doesn’t laugh– instead he cuts your rambling off with a quick kiss, and it flusters you into silence. “Shh. We promised, remember?”
“I mean, we also promised each other when we were in high school that we’d settle down and raise ten dogs on a farm together.”
Soobin laughs this time. “Yeah, I remember that. But this is a pinky promise, isn’t it? It’s different.”
“You’re right… but it’s scary, you know? Coming to this realization about you, and thinking about you this way, and enjoying it, but also worrying about how we’re going to get out of this after our relationship expires... I don’t want to get too carried away and change our dynamic forever.” You’re chewing the skin off your lower lip nervously (you never did break that habit, so now your lip is bleeding), and, while Soobin’s voice is gentle, you know him well enough to detect the subtle tremor as he speaks.
“I know. But we’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out. I won’t let anything remove you from my life for good. Especially not the watch.” His voice is so low, so quiet, you’d miss it if you weren’t fixated on him, as if he’s trying to convince himself, and you squeeze his hand in what you hope is an admirable attempt at reassuring him. “The app hasn’t told us our connection’s expired yet, so I just really, really want to give this a chance. A proper chance, so I can say I did it before I get matched with my ‘real’ soulmate, or whatever. I don’t want to think about what could have been, especially not with you. I think that’d be worse for us.”
You know exactly what he means. Harboring dormant feelings for your best friend never bodes well, at least not in the movies and the books, so you may as well get this pining out of your system, and let it become a distant memory as soon as possible, if it’s not meant to be. It’s only fair, for both of your futures, and for your friendship. (and though neither of you want to admit it, the thought of not being each other’s soulmates is depressing.)
“Look, Soob… I really want to give this a chance, too. I want to see where it takes us while we’re allowed to. I want to try. It’s scary, it’s fucking terrifying, but you’re my best friend, Soob. I promise you won’t lose me because of some stupid watch. Pinky promise.” You try to keep your voice upbeat as you hold out your pinky towards him, offering a tender smile. He links his pinky with yours, and you can see his frame visibly relax once he does. 
You rest your head on his shoulder, pinkies still linked, and silently hope that you’ll be able to uphold your promise to him. You’ve never been any good with breakups. Soobin knows that.
But you’ll be okay with him, right?
He’s your best friend, after all.
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[How would you rate your date?]
[★★★★★]
Congratulations! Your next date is scheduled for 2pm tomorrow, at the Botanical Gardens.
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Soobin decided on his own that he’s picking you up for the third date, and he let you know as much.  After last night’s events though, this means that you’re turning your entire closet upside down trying to find the sweet spot for your look today, because your head is jumbled with far too many thoughts, all of them about Soobin. Every outfit you think up is either too dressy, or too casual, or too out there, or too bland, and you have half a mind to reschedule with your mind in the state that it is. Unfortunately for you, Soobin is already on his way, and you’re not the type of asshole to tell him to head back home and forget the whole date, so you just stare at your pile of clothes on the floor, hoping that somehow you’ll be enlightened with the perfect outfit idea and get yourself looking presentable before he comes knocking.
The universe is clearly not on your side, though, because your doorbell rings not even a minute later, and all you’ve picked out is your jeans and you’re still very much topless. You shoot a message to Soobin, thumbs flying frantically as you let him know you’re not quite ready yet– he might be your best friend in the entire world, but you’re not ready for him to see you under your clothes just yet, especially now that you’re properly seeing each other.
You’re still not sure what to wear, but you figure a beige knit sweater should be safe– you won’t look like you’re trying too hard, but you also won’t look like you’re not trying at all. When you swing the door open to finally greet Soobin, your breath quite literally gets taken away, because he trips and almost knocks you over with his lanky frame, but also, he’s breathtaking.
He’s clearly put a lot of thought into his outfit, which is very cute, and he looks absolutely stunning. A sleek black cardigan with white striped accents on the sleeve, a white dress shirt that clearly looks freshly pressed– hell, he’s even wearing a tie– and those godforsaken glasses that have you in a chokehold somehow. You don’t even bother hiding your delight– he’s so beautiful, and you know he needs a little validation after he probably spent hours putting his look together.
He catches you staring wordlessly, and he flushes with embarrassment.“What? Too much? I knew I should have skipped on the tie–” He grumbles, making a move to loosen it, but he’s stopped by your hand over his.
“No. You look great, Soob. Seriously.” You’re not used to being verbally affectionate, especially not with him, but when he looks that sad, like a kicked puppy, you know better than to tease him when he’s unsure of himself. Despite that, you’re still shy as you reassure him. “You look beautiful.”
The way he brightens when he hears your words is almost cartoonish, and this time, you can’t hold back your laughter, which earns a pout from him, which in turn only fuels your laughter further. You appease him by lacing your fingers with his (he’s apparently a lot easier to please than you remember, but maybe that’s your imagination), and he responds by placing a kiss to the back of your hand. The gesture is tender and sweet, and you think about what it’d be like to have Soobin do that to you every day.
“Well, shall we?” He bows exaggeratedly with his free arm, giving you a blinding smile.
You mirror his smile, and playfully curtsy in return. “We shall.”
When you two arrive at the botanical gardens, it’s jam-packed with people (a worker explains that their tulips are in full bloom, so everyone’s vying for their social media moment), and Soobin is visibly startled, though he recovers quickly as he turns to you. 
“You okay? There’s so many people... I think this is twice, maybe even thrice as many people as there were at the night market.” You don’t do well with crowds, the crowd at the night market was probably the most you could handle, but you know that you don’t have a choice– you have to follow through with the date as scheduled, or risk a fine that neither of you can afford, so you just nod, your grip on his hand tightening. 
Soobin somehow finds a slightly less crowded area of the tulip fields for you two to stroll in after doing a quick sweep (thank god for his height, and that he uses it to his advantage), but you still feel tense as you walk hand in hand. There’s still a decent amount of people, with more spilling in excitedly, phone cameras in hand, and you have a bad feeling the crowd will only grow in size as the day drags on. You just hope you’re as convincing an actress as you think you are, and that Soobin won’t notice as he reads the identification cards for each flower.
You’re caught off guard when he gently pushes you down onto a nearby bench, and crouches in front of you, clasping your other hand in his so that both of them are occupied. The concerned expression on his face tells you that you’re nowhere near an Oscar for your performance, and that he’s most definitely caught on to your discomfort. Normally you’d be embarrassed at the display– you hate making a scene in public, but your anxiety is getting the better of you, and it’s nice to know that he still knows you as well as you thought.
“Noona… look. I know you don’t like crowds, especially excitable and hectic ones like these. If you really, really feel like this is too much for you, we can cancel the date and go home. I want you to have a good time, and I know it’s hard for you when there’s so many people.”
You’re chewing at your lower lip again, and Soobin lets go of one of your hands to thumb at your lip to stop you before you tear it open with your teeth. “But Soob, we came all this way. And you dressed so nicely for me, for this date, and I spent all this time wanting to look good for you, and spend time with you…” You trail off when your breath catches in your throat, your chin trembling as your eyes well up. “It’d be such a waste to cancel after all our time and effort.”
Once again Soobin’s thumb is gently swiping over your cheeks when the tears finally spill over, hushing you with the soft sincerity that he’s prone to when he’s not teasing you. 
“Hey, hey… we can reschedule for another day, can’t we? We don’t have to do this, noona. There’s always next time. It won’t be a waste, I promise.” You feel so apologetic you could die. Soobin’s being so patient and sweet and understanding with you and here you are, kicking up a fuss. The least you could do is power through and follow through with your scheduled date, and you’d hate to miss out on this time with him that you’ve been looking forward to. You were excited for this date, and you want him to know that.
“I think I’d feel worse if we cancelled after we went through all this trouble, and especially if it was all because of me… just give me a moment to calm myself down.” Soobin nods in response, cradling your cheek in his palm, and you sigh appreciatively at the tender gesture. He doesn’t say anything as you wipe away the remnants of your tears and blow your nose– he just holds your hand, letting you gather yourself, and you think for a moment that this must be the benefit of falling for your best friend.
Once the tears have finally subsided, and you’ve had a moment to calm your nerves, you meet Soobin’s eyes, which are searching yours, as if scanning for any lingering signs of discomfort. When he can’t find any, and you give him a reassuring look and a grateful smile, he seizes the opportunity to steal a peck from your lips, grinning cheekily with his tongue between his teeth when he pulls away. 
“H-hey! What was that for?!” Your shock and surprise is real, but your indignance certainly isn’t, if your rosy cheeks are any indication. Your discomfort is forgotten, at least temporarily, so you’re glad for that.
“Oh… just because. You liked it, though.” He’s so smug, that stupid asshole, but he’s right, so you pull him in for another quick kiss before you try to make a run for it. Unfortunately for your escape plan, you’ve forgotten that your hand is still very much interlocked with his, and he’s significantly stronger than you, so he easily pulls you back into his embrace. You can’t say you mind, though– he’s warm and he smells good, like jasmine and sandalwood and the faint scent of vanilla, and if you weren’t already so flustered you’d bury your face in his broad chest.
“Feeling better now?” The words fall from Soobin’s lips with a teasing lilt, but you know it’s his way of genuinely checking in on you, so you answer sincerely.
“Much better. Though I’d still like to avoid the crowds and find somewhere else to have our date… if you don’t mind? The tulips are pretty, and as much as I would like to admire them too, there’s just so many people fighting for a good photo…” 
“Of course, I get it. I saw a sign pointing to a field of azaleas over there that is probably getting a lot less foot traffic than the tulips, so we could head over there?” He gestures in the opposite direction of the tulip field, and you’re more than happy to oblige, letting him tug you along.
Thankfully Soobin’s guess is correct, because there’s only a handful of people at the azalea field when you two arrive, and the tension in your shoulders finally lets up. The dainty red and pink flowers have their own quaint charm, and they’re vibrant and eye-catching. You crouch down to get a closer look, taking hold of a delicate petal in between the pads of your fingers to admire them.
“Did you know red and pink azaleas represent love and romance? Roses aren’t the only flower of love like everyone seems to think.” Soobin’s deep voice rings in your ear and you startle a little, partially because he’s way closer to you than you expected (it’s going to be a while before you get used to maintaining close proximity with him) and partially because you had no idea Soobin was just casually carrying the knowledge of flower meanings in that pretty head of his.
“They’re so pretty… they’d make a much more unique gift than roses for special occasions, too. Not that there’s anything wrong with roses, but they’re kind of done to death, don’t you think?”
Instead of answering, Soobin looks both ways, then plucks a flower, and you hiss in disapproval at him. “Hey–! What are you doing? The sign says that we can’t pick the flowers!” Luckily, none of the staff has taken notice of his mischievous little act, but even if they did, you can’t help but wonder if they’d even care, when he could charm his way into anything.
Soobin tucks the flower behind your ear, seemingly ignoring your disapproval as he hums a tune under his breath. “A gift for our special occasion, and a little commemoration of our budding romance, or something. And look, noona, you’re so pretty. Just like a flower.” He punctuates his statement with the sound of his phone camera flashing, followed by four more, until you’re blushing profusely with embarrassment.
“Soobin, that’s enough–” Your cheeks are beet red– you can feel it from the sheer amount of blood running into them– and though you really like that Soobin’s taking pictures of you for him to keep, you’re extremely camera shy, and he knows that, which is probably why he’s so insistent.
“Actually, the issue is that I didn’t take enough. Now smile for the camera!” You have to practically wrestle your way away from the camera, but not before he snaps a few more of you smiling bashfully at him. He catches up to you with ease (damn those long legs of his), arms secure around your frame as you squeal, though you’re secretly pleased that you’re in his hold.
The time once again ticks by like nothing as you walk side by side, admiring the blooms around you and snapping photos of each other (“For wallpaper usage purposes,” Soobin says, and you blush again), and before you know it, your watches are beeping to signify that your two hours are up. Soobin sobers up almost immediately, expression unreadable, and though he doesn’t say anything as he takes your hand, you know what’s on his mind, because the same thing is on yours.
There’s a palpable tension hanging in the air once the two of you reach the entrance of the gardens– it’s the third date, after all, and you promised you’d find out your expiration date if you made it this far. You’re relieved that your watches haven’t blared just yet, signifying the end of your connection, but you’re still struck with the nervousness of finding out how long you’ll last. You think you’ll never get over it if you only get a few months– or worse, a few days with him– after all this secret pining and yearning.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d think Soobin was somehow eerily calm about the whole thing. But you do know better, and you know that he’s just trying to put on a brave face for you, and for himself. The two of you open Time to Love in silence, hands still interlocked, swiping to the ‘Love Countdown’ tab with your free hands, and brace yourselves. Soobin gives you a reassuring nod, and you respond back with what you hope is an equally reassuring smile, and that your expression doesn’t betray the fear bubbling deep within you.
Soobin takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “Okay, on the count of three,”
“One…” “Two…”
“Three!”
When both of you tap the in-app tab, there isn’t an array of numbers indicating an expiration date with a ticking countdown, as you expected and had grown accustomed to on your previous dates– in fact, there isn’t a single number on the screen– and instead there’s an infinity sign.
You two don’t have an expiration date.
You and Soobin look at each other, then at your watches, then at each other again. 
“Wait, we don’t have an expiration date–”
Then the realization dawns on both of you, and it hits you like a truck.
“Wait, we’re soulmates?!”
Both of you are sporting the same bewildered expression, and you both go to check your progress bars, just to be sure– they’re full, just as you’d expect after being matched with your soulmate. So that’s why your watch alarms haven’t gone off. You two were the one in a million. Once the shock finally wears off, it’s replaced with pure, unbridled joy, and when Soobin sweeps you off your feet to gather you in his arms, there’s an emotion bubbling in you that’s equal parts unfamiliar and yet welcome.
You’d thought all this time, all these years, that there was no way you should feel this way about your best friend, of all people. That you shouldn’t fuck this up, because Soobin has always been there for you, and you’ve always been there for him. As his friend. As your friend. 
But here is the universe, telling you that you’re fated to love him, and that he’s fated to love you in return. 
And love him you do. You love Soobin. And when you look at him, and see the way he’s looking at you, with fondness practically dripping from his gaze, you know he loves you too. 
Maybe the watch really is bullshit. Maybe it is statistically impossible to decide someone’s life partner based on an algorithm.
But maybe it’s onto something, because it seems silly to have ever thought of being with anyone except Soobin. You never would’ve thought to look for your forever right next to you, and yet, here he is, in the flesh. Was it a coincidence that he made it onto your recommended matches that fateful night? Was it a coincidence that he felt the same way you did?
Soobin’s lips capture yours in a searing kiss, and you melt in his heat, kissing him back with a fierce fervor, as if desperately communicating the depth of the feelings you’ve let build up silently after all these years. You decide that there’s no such thing as coincidences– he’s always known what’s best for you, and you’ve always wanted what’s best for him. You just didn’t know that the answer to both of those things was each other.
“I love you, noona.” He whispers with a bashful, dimpled smile, and your heart swells.
“I love you too, Soob.”
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Soobin has always been counting down to something. 
To the end of another grueling workday, the next League of Legends patch update, to anything, so he always has something to look forward to. But he’s never looked forward to this.
The love countdown has always been something he despised and dreaded– he’s always wanted to be the master of his own fate, without the shackles of the app tying him down with each new connection. He’d always thought that his soulmate would be some poorly matched individual who he’d have a mediocre life with, but all that seems to be proven wrong as he looks at you.
He hates being wrong. But when he sees the way you smile, the way you regard him with the utmost love and affection in your gaze, the way you hold his hand as if you’ll lose him if you let go– he thinks he’s willing to concede defeat, at least this time.
Maybe that stupid watch does know a thing or two about love. Maybe it doesn’t. Maybe this is all just pure coincidence. But despite it all, Soobin is thankful that this is where he ends up. That both of you had been counting down all this time to each other. 
Because if there's anyone he can count on in this world, it's you.
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mingumis · 2 days ago
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waves of you | kmg
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you're called to the ocean, like a sailor to a siren's song. kim mingyu's soul is made of the same stuff as yours.
pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader genres/themes: slow burn, pining, friends-to-lovers, slight angst, eventual fluff (suggestive bonus at the end!) tw: brief mentions of mental health and medication, unhealthy coping mechanisms a/n: my first fic ever posted! pls let me know if this is any good,, wc: 7.4k
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You were born on an island, and although growing up, you rarely visited the beach once a year, in adulthood, something about the ocean calls you back to it and eases your nerves. The salt in the air that you taste with each breath, the fine sand hot between your toes, the waves that lap at your ankles, everything is familiar and puts your soul at peace. 
It’s what enabled you to become friends with Mingyu, you think, because he’s also inevitably led to the coasts and the sands and the water. Because otherwise, the popular, well-loved sports junkie that he is would never have even looked your way back in freshman year, you tell yourself. 
“Oh, how beautiful,” your friend, Yujin, breathes out a gasp as the car rounds the corner and turns onto a road that overlooks the beach that you’re headed towards. Minghao, her boyfriend and the current driver of the car, takes a peek and hums in agreement. It rouses you from your half-asleep daze, and you sit up a little to crane your neck to the side to look out the window. 
She’s right. The cabin that your group of friends has rented for the weekend sits cozily along a row of other identical lodgings, dotting a beautiful shoreline that meets the eastern sea. The sunrises are gorgeous, Yujin had insisted, and that had been enough to convince you to come along. Of course, the mention of Kim Mingyu’s presence on the trip hadn’t been omitted either. The view, further solidifying the reality of this upcoming weekend, and the recollection of the conversation sends a flutter of anticipation in your stomach, which you try your best to swallow away. 
Once Minghao pulls into the designated parking stalls for the campgrounds, you’re pulling at your belt buckle and all but scrambling out of the backseat. Instantly, you take a lungful of the salty air, feet surging forward and leading you towards the water. You barely hear and acknowledge Yujin’s amused murmur, “There she goes again.” 
As you near the beach, you crouch to pull your sneakers and socks off, planting your bare feet into the sand and breathing a quiet sigh of relief. You almost feel instantly healed from the headache of work and life. There’s a few remaining minutes of the sun left, so a few stragglers saunter along the beach still. A family with two squealing children, a couple quietly sharing a blanket around their shoulders, and a singular, tall silhouette that you would recognize anywhere in the world. 
Almost as if he’s been expecting you, the man turns his head over his shoulders at the same time that you distinguish him. The grin that splits Mingyu’s face takes your breath away, more than the purple and orange and blue of the twilight sky overhead. 
“Hey,” he calls your name with a wave to accompany it, his own shoes dangling from his other hand. “About time you guys showed up!” He’s in a white linen cardigan, sleeves pulled up to his elbows, and his jean cuffs are folded up to his ankles neatly. A pair of sunglasses hang from the vee of his collar, and his hair is wind tossed and salt ruffled. He looks every part a resident of this sleepy, seaside town. 
You will your racing heart to calm as you take each footstep towards him carefully and intentionally, so as not to rush and trip. Once you get close enough to see the moles on his nose, cheeks, and forehead that you love so much, you return his smile easily. 
“Thought I’d find you here.” 
Mingyu just agrees and laughs. 
When the sun finally disappears behind the mountains to the west, the two of you can’t linger any longer, especially as the wind picks up with a bite. Mingyu lets you take the lead as you trudge through the cold sand, barely satisfied with the glimpse of the ocean. 
You enter the house first, kicking your shoes clean outside, and immediately, a warm body crashes into you forcefully and nearly knocks you clear off of your feet. Thankfully, you’re held upright by a sturdy surface behind you, as you grasp at your chest, where your heart lurches in surprise. 
“Seokmin,” you hiss out, mid-complaint, but the man already apologizes at a million words per minute, arms looped around your shoulders. 
“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” Seokmin mumbles sheepishly, hugging you properly, as if it’s consolation for giving you the fright of a lifetime (it is). “I just missed you so much!” 
A quiet rumble of a laugh breaks you out of the moment, and it’s with mild horror that you realize that the surface that caught you from crashing to the floor is actually Mingyu’s broad, firm chest. With a jolt, you straighten up under Seokmin’s hold and shuffle farther into the hallway, leaving the two men behind and pretending to huff as you go. 
In the kitchen, Yujin and Minghao quietly tuck away the groceries and drinks into the fridge and freezer, and you study them for a moment, watching as they work effortlessly in tandem without saying a single word. Their movements come practiced and easy, through years of patience and work and fighting and loving. Despite the smile that curls onto your lips, you wonder cynically if you’ll ever find that sort of love for yourself. 
“Oh!” Yujin has turned to place something onto the kitchen counter and has caught sight of you lingering. “And how’s your estranged lover doing?” 
You snort out a laugh, broken from your reverie, just as Mingyu and Seokmin catch up to you and crowd around the counter. 
“You have a lover?” Seokmin gapes innocently, eyes bright with confusion. He turns to glance at Mingyu, who responds with a shrug and a nibble along his bottom lip. 
“Yeah, and his name is the ocean,” Yujin deadpans with a quick roll of her eyes. “Can’t get enough of him, really. Maybe that’s why she can’t seem to find a guy.” She bites playfully, knowingly shifting her gaze from you to Mingyu and back. 
You wince, “Ouch.” Pretend not to notice the way Seokmin offers you a sympathetic smile nor the sag of Mingyu’s shoulders. Instead, you plaster on the brightest grin you can manage and change the subject. 
“So, what’s for dinner?” 
You sit on the deck railing, half-ignoring and half-laughing at Yujin’s shrill warnings for you to be careful because if you fall and break your leg, nobody’s taking you to the ER. Behind you, Mingyu mans the grill, and Minghao sets the table up for dinner. Seokmin, bless his heart, sidles up behind you and mumbles sweetly that he’ll drive you, if it comes to it. You thank him with a grin, popping open your can of seltzer and knocking a mouthful back. 
The darkness that you stare into is dizzying, but there’s a certain calm that it brings. You swing your legs back and forth, balancing yourself on the wooden beam carefully, and sip away at the can, listening to the distant waves crash and break. 
“Doin’ alright?” 
The voice comes without warning, and you jump at its proximity which jostles you an inch forward, teetering a bit off balance. Before you have the chance to right yourself, an arm snakes around your waist, holding you back firmly. 
“Mingyu,” you breathe. “You scared me.” The motion has made your drink spill all over your hand and pants, and you pull a face, bringing your arm up to lick away at the stray droplets clinging to your skin. 
The man besides you giggles a little sheepishly, “Sorry. Dinner’s ready, but you seemed so peaceful and I didn’t want to bother you.” He pulls away once you twist around to come down from the rail, and you instantly mourn the loss of his warmth. 
Nonsense, you quickly admonish yourself. As smitten as you may be with the man, you have to remind yourself constantly that he’s been seeing another girl for almost the better part of a year now. The day that epiphany had come, through a careless slip of Wonwoo’s tongue, had gone over rough. You had spent an entire weekend moping on the couch, as Yujin and Minghao, Seokmin and Soonyoung, and Chan and Seungkwan took rotating shifts to make sure you didn’t fall apart completely and do anything stupid.
You know that you’re pathetic, pining after the only person you know who comes close to being perfect, but you’re anything but weak so you tried to take it in stride, laughing easily at jokes and eating all of the sweet treats that your friends brought you to cheer you up. It was only after you shut the door behind Seungkwan and Chan taking off for the night with lingering hugs and quiet murmurs of comfort that you allowed yourself to unravel, heaving through dry sobs that shook your entire body until the tears followed. 
You let yourself cry over Mingyu that one night and never again. 
Now, as you trail along back inside to the dinner table, eyes glued to the wide expanse of his back, you wish you could cry. Mingyu’s perfect, you’re realizing all over again, as if the distance and time away from him had made you forget. Perfect, but not meant for you. 
You gulp down the rest of your seltzer just as you sink into your designated chair to chase away the bitterness that pools in the back of your throat. Seokmin leans into you, bumping his shoulder against yours with a concerned furrow to his brow, but you wave him away with a smile. 
“Eat up,” you urge him, nodding towards the piles of barbequed meats that Mingyu has grilled. 
You quickly realize that the dining table, despite being long and wide enough to seat all five comfortably, is still too small because you can hear every word, giggle, grumble coming from Mingyu. It gets to the point where you’re just one more seltzer in, barely having nibbled on a short rib or two, and you’re all but sagging into Seokmin’s side, hanging off of every word that comes from Mingyu’s mouth as he recounts some funny story. 
At one of the punchlines, you squeak out a giggle, unable to hold it in, and the whole table turns to glance at you, which then makes the others laugh too. 
“Oh, man.” Mingyu grins, visibly pleased by the reaction to his story. “She’s gone.” 
You snort a puff of air out, mumbling, “M’right here!” Your friends laugh again, and Seokmin snakes his arm around your back to hold you up in your seat, snickering as he does. 
“Don’t remember you being such a lightweight,” he muses, chewing on his lip, before he dips his face close to yours to whisper. “You alright?” 
You merely smile, head bobbing once. He’s so warm and gentle besides you, and you’ve been so starved for touch like this that you all but melt into him. “Never been better.” 
By now, Minghao and Yujin have started up another one of their stories, and you listen along in a half-daze, eyes shut and cheek against Seokmin’s shoulder. 
You don’t see Mingyu’s gaze lingering on where you’re pressed into Seokmin. 
You wake before the sun, mouth dry as if you’ve eaten sand. Someone has carried you from the table to the room with the giant king-sized bed, tucked you into the sheets next to Yujin. Quietly, you slip out of bed, brush your teeth, and shower, and without even meaning to, your feet lead you out of the house, onto the shore. 
It’s still too early for the sunrise, and the sky yawns above you, navy blue and speckled with stars. You crane your neck back, mouthing out the few names that you know. Orion’s Belt, Canis Major, Sirius. Once you’ve exhausted the constellations that you know, you find a dry spot in the sand, sit with your legs folded and knees hugged to your chest. 
You finally let your guard down, breathing in through your nose, letting out a shuddering sigh through your teeth. Maybe this was a mistake, you ponder, running your fingers through the sand absently. It really is nice seeing your friends after so long, and the ocean welcomes you back home with open arms, but Mingyu’s presence, his beauty, his easy smiles leave the wound in your heart raw and open. Festering. 
Another few moments pass by lost in thought, until you pick up your head and notice that the sky has started to lighten overhead. Just then, a short whistle catches your attention, and when you turn, you suppose you’re not even surprised to find Mingyu crossing over the beach towards you. 
Your heart pulses and aches as you take him in. He’s in his checkered pajama pants still, a giant gray hoodie pulled on over his head. In the crook of his elbow are two water bottles, as if he knew you’d be here. Something about that thought unravels you even more. 
“You’re up early,” you mumble in greeting, nodding your appreciation when he hands you one of the bottles. 
Mingyu clicks his tongue and shrugs. “Wanted to see what the fuss about the sunrise was about. You?” He comes right beside you, planting himself into the sand and taking up the same position as you, elbows perched onto his knees. 
“Woke up dehydrated as fuck,” you say around a mouthful of water, grinning when he laughs. The man doesn’t say anything else, tilting his head up to watch as the sun begins its ascent. 
Despite the ache in your chest, it’s so easy to be Mingyu’s friend, to act like you don’t love him so much that you could die. It’s easy to sit here in silence with him, shoulder to shoulder, elbows brushing, pretending that the moment, and the world, belongs to the two of you. 
You zone out, concentrating on keeping your breath steady and thoughts reigned in. It isn’t until a tiny gasp catches in Mingyu’s throat that you’re looking away from the waves, first to him and then up above. Overhead, the sun has risen just enough to send a million colors across the sky. It’s a different palette from yesterday’s sunset, as orange and pink and blue swirl around each other. You stare, enraptured by the sight, and for a second, everything is perfect.
“Okay,” Mingyu says softly. “I get the hype now.” 
You glance at him, trace your gaze along the cheeky smile, the wonder in his eyes. Your heart squeezes, and you nod in agreement. 
Being here in this moment with him alone loosens your tongue, or maybe you’re still not completely sober because the words are escaping before you even have the thought to stop them. 
“Why did you come, Mingyu?” Your eyes widen in horror as you hear your own voice above the gentle push and pull of the waves, but it’s too late to take anything back now. 
The man blinks in surprise once, twice, leaning his cheek against a knee to fully look at you. “For the sunrise, silly.” 
No, you want to exclaim. Why did you come this weekend? Why did you come alone? But you’re a coward, and you always have been, so you swallow away the rest and hum in response. 
“Hey, Tiny. Come say hi.” 
If the rasp of Mingyu’s voice isn’t enough, that dumb, aggravating nickname that he insists on teasing you with sends your stomach tumbling. He peers over at you innocently as he sits on a stool at the kitchen counter, holding his phone in one hand, his chin in the other, elbow propped up. You cut him a glare, peeking at the screen that he turns to you to find Seungkwan and Chan’s faces peering back at you. 
“Oh!” You smile, pleasantly surprised. “Hi, Kwannie, Channie.” 
“Hi, Tiny,” comes their response in unison, Chan’s mouth quirking up into a smirk and Seungkwan’s eyes widening mockingly. Little shits. 
You scowl immediately, turning away with a sigh. “Sorry, I don’t talk to mean people.” 
Thankfully, Chan and Seungkwan know exactly when to indulge someone, and they paw at the screen, blasting the speakers out with incoherent shrieks of apology. You chuckle, dipping behind to put your face besides Mingyu’s. 
“Much better,” you nod. “Miss you guys.” 
Chan’s grin softens, and Seungkwan splutters at the sudden tenderness, lips jutting out into a pout. “Wish we could’ve come too,” he ends up murmuring, gaze swimming with affection. “It’s been a while since we all got together.” 
You chat with the two, and Mingyu interjects occasionally with his own quips until a notification drops from the top of his screen. His thumb swipes it away before you can fully make out the contact, but you do catch the purple heart emoji tagged after the end and your heart drops. You must freeze because Chan pauses in the midst of his sentence and his brow creases a little. 
Mingyu takes advantage of the lull in conversation to mumble out a quick excuse and apology, “Hey, guys, I gotta go make a call real quick. Can we call back later?” 
You both hurriedly say your goodbyes, before Mingyu’s pushing himself up and away from the kitchen counter without another word. Left alone, you hover for a few seconds, disappointed, before shuffling through the house to find your other friends. 
You’re not going to let your weekend getaway be ruined by something like this. 
And that’s how you find yourself, clinging to Seokmin’s shoulders as he marches deeper and deeper into the water. His arms hold strong, looped under your knees, and he just giggles, skin warm beneath your fingertips. Just ahead, Yujin teeters precariously atop Minghao’s shoulders, teeth flashing as she shrieks giddily. 
“You’re quiet,” Seokmin notes, tilting his head back to look at you. “Everything alright?” 
You just hold tighter, hiding your face away into his shoulder. It’d be so much easier to love Seokmin. You already do love him, for his infinite joy and compassion for others, for his positive, sunny presence. But it’s not the same, and it never would be the same. You hate yourself for these thoughts. 
“Is it Mingyu?” 
You frown and mumble his question away, “No, it’s just my dumb head thinking too much.” With a ruffle of his damp hair and a quick kiss to the cheek, you assure, “I’m okay. Thanks for worrying about me.” 
Seokmin merely shies away at the touch, cackling bashfully. He drops his voice to a whisper, “Let’s go dunk those two.” Tightening his hold on you, he surges forward to the unsuspecting couple, and you lunge for Yujin, toppling her off of Minghao and into the sea, which sets off a round of screaming and splashing that makes you forget about everything. It’s hard to be lovesick when your friends are around, grabbing you by the waist to throw you into the water. 
I can see that you’re hurting. 
Your thumbs hover over the phone screen, eyes roving everywhere, anywhere, but that particular gray bubble in the message log with Lee Chan. Lee Chan, who’s so perceptive that he can read you like an open book through a fifteen minute video call. Lee Chan, who’s so in tune with his own emotions that he’s not afraid to call you out on your own. 
Breathing a defeated sigh, you type out a response. 
I’m doing alright, Channie. I’d rather see him and hurt than never see him again. 
His message back is instant: You’re torturing yourself. 
You dig a knuckle into a temple, easing the sharp jab that arises from the conversation. With another halfhearted attempt of reassuring Chan, you shut your phone off and pocket it, switching it out for the two pill bottles you’ve carried out with you. You continue what you were doing before Chan’s concern interrupted you, reaching for a mug in the cabinets and filling it with water. 
In the midst of shaking out a single pill from each bottle, a gentle voice quivers out from the hall, making you jump and tense. As your luck would have it, it’s Mingyu, forehead creasing as he looks from your face to the labeled orange prescription bottles to the tiny pills in your palm. He holds an empty glass, as if he’s also come out for a drink of water. His face, initially cautious and guarded, opens up, confused and worried and devastated. 
“Hey, Tiny,” he mumbles, padding closer and closer. “Everything alright?”
No, no, no, no. You had purposefully crept out of bed once the house settled into a prolonged silence, afraid that you'd run into one of the others. You freeze like a deer caught in headlights, pinned by Mingyu’s searching gaze on you. 
When he gets close enough, you finally force yourself to move, hurriedly pocketing the bottles and tossing the pills into your mouth and swallowing them dry. In your panic, they get stuck halfway down your throat, and you have to gulp desperate mouthfuls of water down to dislodge them. Fuck, you’re making a mess of yourself. 
Pull yourself together, you chide before urging a smile onto your face. 
“Hey,” you murmur back, careful to keep your voice even. “I’m okay, just getting ready for bed. What are you doing up?” 
He mutters a quiet reply, “Was on a call.” Right. He’s been on and off his phone all afternoon and night, ever since he scrambled away from the kitchen counter earlier in the morning. He had missed out on the entire beach session, only joining in with the group briefly for dinner, wearing a permanent furrow to his brow. 
Despite your attempt at steering him away, Mingyu’s appraisal of your expression penetrates your soul, gaze slow and intentional. He doesn’t press, he never does, but his presence is firm and it’s clear that he’s not backing down without answers. 
You shut your eyes in defeat, breathing through a few moments of working up the courage to vocalize something you haven’t told any of your friends. Not even Seokmin or Chan. Because saying it out loud, telling someone else, means that it’s real, means that you’re acknowledging that you are weak after all, despite all of your bravado. 
As a last ditch attempt, you wince, “Do you have to know?” 
“Yes,” Mingyu insists. 
“Why?” 
A long silence stretches between the two of you. 
“Because you–” Mingyu cuts his words off abruptly, and when you glance up at him, his eyes widen imperceptibly, surprised. He hesitates, which is weird to see because Mingyu never dithers. He always, always barrels through things, whether he’s prepared for them or not. It’s one of the things you admire most about him, so when he falters, it’s your turn to give him a strange look. “Because I’m your friend,” he finally settles on, which makes your stomach sink in disappointment, “I’m worried about you, but you never let people worry about you, which frustrates me.” 
Your chest could have been torn, ribs pulled apart to bare your aching, bleeding heart, and it would probably feel the same as you do now as you speak, throwing the words out into the cold, midnight air hollowly. “I take antidepressants. Helps with my anxiety.” 
Mingyu exhales forcefully, as if his breath has been punched out from him. He moves automatically, reaching a hand up to cup your face, palm warm against your cheek. “How long?” 
His touch is searing, and you ball your hands into fists to stop yourself from tearing yourself away from him or running or throwing up. 
“Almost six months now.” 
The day after you cried over Mingyu, you had promptly scheduled yourself a slot into a therapist’s office, who had been recommended to you by Yujin. About four months of therapy alone had proven insufficient, and your therapist had suggested medication, which you had greedily, almost desperately, accepted. 
“Nobody else knows,” you start blabbing, stomach suddenly lurching with fear because now that one person knows, it’s only a matter of time before others do. Mingyu’s not a snitch, you know this somewhere deep inside your head, but maybe, just maybe, he’ll think that this is information that needs to be shared. 
“Hey,” he rasps, but you barely acknowledge it, thoughts racing and dipping deeper and deeper into the swirl of dread and misery that exists constantly inside your head. 
“Tiny.”
Only the slight irritation that spikes at the sound of the nickname rouses you from the spiral, and you return to the moment, frowning. Mingyu smiles, despite it all. 
“I won’t tell a soul.” 
He stays true to his word and doesn’t even bring it up the following morning, but he may as well be screaming at the top of his lungs that something is wrong, through his newfound devotion to hovering beside you at all times. You’ve been brushing past Yujin’s curious hums and dodging Minghao’s side eyeing all morning, but during lunch out at the beachside town, Mingyu pulls your salad away to manually cut the chicken breast into bite-sized pieces in front of everyone before handing the plate back over to you wordlessly. When Seokmin’s eyes appear to be bugging out of their sockets, you decide to intervene. 
You have to catch him by the elbow, pulling him aside momentarily as the others step into a gift shop to hiss, “Okay, you’re freaking everyone out.” 
Mingyu merely blinks his huge, guiltless eyes at you. “What do you mean?” 
“You’re hovering. Stop that. I’m depressed, not dying.” 
The man scratches at his neck sheepishly, swiveling his head from side to side to see if anyone has overheard. “Just trying to take care of you is all,” he shrugs. 
You sigh. This is exactly why you’d chosen not to tell your friends anything. “I appreciate it,” you say, poking a fingertip against his chest (pretending that you don’t notice the way his firm skin barely gives way beneath the pressure). “But please, at least try to be subtle about it?” 
Mingyu merely lets a grin split his face like an overjoyed puppy, as if he’s just glad you haven’t refused his special treatment. 
You turn away and into the gift shop, ignoring the way the tips of your ears burn red-hot. 
“So…” 
You groan loudly, lifting an elbow out of the jacuzzi water to tuck your face into the crook of it. 
“I didn’t even say anything yet!” Yujin protests as she quietly slips into the tub beside you, knees knocking against yours. She holds out a can of beer to you, which you politely refuse, having already had a moment of weakness on the first night. 
“But!” She continues, gaze burning fierce with curiosity. “I think everyone has caught onto you guys, so spill.” 
You blink owlishly, wondering what ideas your other friends have come up with. “Sorry to disappoint,” you say mildly, shrugging, “but nothing’s going on.” 
Yujin gasps, scandalized. “Then why is Mingyu trailing after you like a lovesick puppy?” 
Is that what it looks like? You want to laugh it off, but your friend’s words only lodge a tight knot in your throat that you can barely swallow around. 
“He is not.” 
“He totally is! Minghao told me that he saw you guys coming in together from the beach yesterday morning, so we assumed something happened then!” 
You watch, pained, as Yujin excitedly spins a theory, and you must look pathetic enough because her own expression falls. “What?” Her voice lowers into a concerned whisper, and she reaches for your hand beneath the surface of the water. 
“He’s definitely still with that girl.” You try not to sound bitter, squeezing at her fingers. “I saw her texting him, and they were calling the other day.” 
“Oh,” she calls your name sympathetically. “I’m so sorry.” 
You merely smile at her, wave away her concern. “Don’t be,” you insist, “It’s about time that I get over it anyway. I can’t keep living my life like this, right?” 
“Right,” she affirms. “I’m proud of you.” 
The two of you soak in the hot water for a few more minutes, chatting about everything and nothing at all, before Yujin complains about her wriggled fingertips. You’re just about covering up the jacuzzi, having sent your friend back inside the house ahead of you, when a patter of bare footsteps up the stairs to the deck from the beach catches your attention. 
Mingyu has just climbed up from a night swim with the boys, hair drenched and tousled, water still clinging to his tan skin, shorts pressed to his strong thighs. His eyes are bright when he catches sight of you, and suddenly, you’re hyper aware of your own stare and quickly cast your gaze away. 
“How’s the hot tub?” The man makes easy conversation, bending to pick up a towel from a stack that they’ve left conveniently on the deck. He roughly dries his hair, and you pointedly do not look at him as he does. 
“Insanely nice,” you breathe honestly, pulling your own towel tightly around your shoulders to keep yourself concealed. “You and the boys should try it out.” 
Mingyu hums in agreement, throwing his head over his shoulder to look towards the beach. Seokmin and Minghao are still chasing each other, kicking up sand as they go, voices pitched up in joy. “They don’t seem like they’ll be heading back anytime soon.” He shakes his head mirthfully. 
Your stupid heart betrays you, mere minutes after you just told Yujin that you’d start trying to get over him. Defeated for now, you’re opening your mouth to bid him goodnight, when Mingyu speaks first. 
“Listen,” he starts. Hesitates again. He crosses over the deck to tower right above you, standing so close that you can smell the salt on his skin. Mingyu reaches, hand resting heavy on your hip, and you’re beyond glad that your towel is wrapped tightly around your torso because if you felt his palm on your bare skin, you might have lost yourself completely. 
Your breath catches, and you don’t take another, afraid that any movement will break the moment. 
“I did some research,” Mingyu’s voice dips low, as if he’s sharing a secret with you. “Read somewhere that you shouldn’t mix alcohol and antidepressants, but you drank, didn’t you? The first night? That’s not good for your, Tiny.” 
You freeze. This is the type of person that Mingyu is, you remind yourself. Someone whose physical touch comes as a natural instinct. Someone who notices and remembers things. Someone who looks things up out of concern. 
The weight of his hand on your waist, the scent of his skin and the salt on it, the cloying uncertainty in his voice is all so dizzying that you might as well have been five drinks in now. He is your ruin, your undoing. So long as you are friends with him, you’ll never heal, you realize with dread. 
Frightened, you take a few steps back, unable to look at him anymore. You manage a strangled squeak to wish him good night, before you’re all but running away.
When the next morning comes, you feign being sick, which isn’t completely a lie, since the incessant throb in your head is enough to keep you in bed. Yujin fusses over you, suggesting to call Minghao in and make him drive the three of you back to the city to take you home. 
“No, no,” you insist, waving your hands up frantically. “It’s the last day that we’re here! Just enjoy yourselves without me. I think I just need to sleep in a little longer.” You even crack open your eyes to smile at her. 
Yujin, thankfully, tucks you beneath the comforter tightly, leaving you with a soft kiss on the forehead and a promise that she’ll bring you back something to eat. 
Mingyu’s very confused, and a little nervous, as his friends give him varying expressions of frustration and disbelief when he tells them that he broke up with his girlfriend a few months ago. Minghao holds his face in his hands, as if he doesn’t even want to look at him when he asks why. 
He twists his lips from left to right as he ponders the question. What he told his ex were assorted excuses of “I just don’t see us being a long term thing” or “I think I just have too much on my plate right now”, but after this weekend, he’s not so sure anymore. Mingyu cautiously offers, “I don’t think she was the one. She keeps texting and calling me, though. I shouldn’t respond, but I feel so bad.”
Yujin cuts a glare at him, looking like she’s all but ready to kill him with nothing but the spoon clutched in her hand. She’s evidently a few mimosas in, and she hisses, “Kim Mingyu, you dumb, idiotic moron!” 
He blinks in surprise. “Okay, you just called me stupid three different ways in one sentence.” 
Seokmin sighs from beside him, poking his fork into the puddle of yolk leftover from his eggs benedict. “Well, you are pretty dumb,” is what his best friend tells him. 
Mingyu pouts, a little hurt by the way his friends are treating him, especially when he just told them that he’s going through a breakup. “You guys are being mean,” he sulks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Tiny wouldn’t treat me like this.” 
At the sound of his nickname for you, everyone at the table looks at him, and now they’re all glaring at him. His poor little heart shrivels up in his chest, and Mingyu finally lets out a cry, “Can you guys just tell me what’s going on?” 
“You have no right.” Yujin slurs angrily, jabbing her spoon in his direction. “No right to treat my girl like that!” Her voice pitches up a bit too loudly at the end, which causes patrons at the surrounding tables to turn and look. Minghao reaches to clap a palm over her mouth, using his other hand to pull her into his side and calm her down. 
Seokmin, gentle soul that he is, softly mutters, “Have you ever considered that you might mean more than just a friend to her?” 
Mingyu’s mind goes blank, as he falters. A million thoughts run through his head at a million miles per hour. 
You’re the only one in the world who understands what it’s like to be led to the water by the ocean’s siren song. He doesn’t have to use words to explain what he feels to you, when he lets himself wander and finds himself skirting the edge of the beach, where the waves lap at his feet and pull away, leaving nothing but foam and bubbles. You’re the one who confided in him first, all those years ago, that you found the city too suffocating and heavy, that you were considering moving back to the island you were born on, despite your entire life being on the mainland. He had smiled and murmured that he wished he could do the same, and would want nothing more in life than to do that.
You, who he can always count on finding at the beach, as if magnetized to one another because your souls are made of the same stuff. 
Mingyu’s breathless because his friends are right. He is a dumb, idiotic moron. 
He runs back to the campgrounds ahead of his friends, all the way from town. He doesn’t bother checking your room or even going into the cabin because in his heart of hearts, he knows exactly where you are. Sure enough, he’s just coming up the small dune towards the shore when he catches sight of you, sitting with your knees tucked to your chest, head lolled to the side as you watch the water. 
He can only see your back from where you are, and you look so tiny. That’s why he had started calling you it in the first place, so fond of how little you are compared to him, how your nose would inevitably scrunch up in objection whenever you heard the name. 
Mingyu cannot believe how stupidly blind he’s been. 
You hear your name being called, but your heart limps along, immune to the sudden appearance of his voice. Tightening your arms around your bent legs, you wait until Mingyu comes by to sit beside you, just like that morning you watched the sunrise together. His back rises and falls rapidly, huffing as if he’s run all the way back from town. Even when his breath settles, he doesn’t say a word, as if waiting for you to speak first. 
You inhale shakily and then unload everything before you have the chance to doubt yourself. 
“I can’t be friends with you anymore, Mingyu.” 
The man soaks in the words, before he says plainly, “Okay. Because I can’t either.” He then leans forward, to crane his head and peer right into your face. Mingyu grins, bright as the sun. Your heart cleaves in two and you’re grasping at the remnants of your sanity to hold it together, and he’s smiling. 
“–The fuck?!” 
You bite your tongue to prevent hurling more expletives because this is certainly not the Kim Mingyu that you know and love. 
His smile only widens, and he’s suddenly talking, words spilling from his mouth and stumbling over his lisp, “I know, by the way. I know that you love me. I know that you’re trying hard to pretend that you’re fine, when you’re not. I know I’ve been so, so stupid, and I’m sorry for that.”
Mingyu reaches across the space that he’s politely left between the two of you, one hand coming to cup your cheek, the other sweeping your hair back from your face gently. He holds and looks at you so tenderly, as if he’s scared of shattering you, and for the first time ever, you feel seen. 
“What’s going on?” You manage to work out, but your voice comes out very small. 
“I broke up with her months ago,” Mingyu says, as if that explains everything. “She didn’t understand who I was. But you…” A thumb delicately brushes over your cheekbone to catch a tear, and only then do you realize that you’re crying. The man’s smile crumples, and he dips to press his lips onto the top of your head, mumbling into your hair, “Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.” 
You gasp for a breath, forcefully trying to swallow away the sobs. All day, as you tossed and turned in bed alone, you had been working yourself up towards ending your friendship with Mingyu once and for all, to protect whatever pieces of your heart were left. 
“I thought I was going to lose you,” you warble, finally holding onto him, fingers tightening around his shirt like it’s a lifeline. 
Mingyu chortles, and it rumbles throughout his entire body. 
“You won’t be getting rid of me that easily.” 
“Um. What is that?” 
Chan’s voice comes through, shrill and scandalized, from the other end of the line, and you can see the cogs turning in his head, as you quickly move to turn the collar of your shirt up and cover the burgeoning mark that Mingyu’s teeth have left on your skin. When Chan leaves the screen momentarily to frantically call Seungkwan over, you whip your head around to glare at Mingyu, who lounges in the armchair beside you lazily, a pleased grin curling onto his lips. 
“I’m never hearing the end of this,” you mutter, just as Seungkwan enters the frame. 
“What’s this about a hickey I’m hearing?” Seungkwan clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “What kind of low-grade, classless loser did you bring home with you?” 
At that, Mingyu jolts up, straight as an arrow, brows furrowing. He starts whining his complaints as he comes over to your side. 
You watch with amusement as the recognition of the voice registers in Seungkwan’s eyes first, then Chan’s. Then, Mingyu peeps his face into the camera. It’s actually quite comical, the way Chan and Seungkwan both slap their hands over their mouths, eyes stretching wide. 
“What the–”
“–actual fuck?!” 
You snicker a little, cheeks flushing as you catch sight of the little window on the phone screen that mirrors back your face pressed against Mingyu’s. He must notice it too because he catches your eye through the screen and leans in to smile against your mouth. A cacophony of groans and gags come from Chan and Seungkwan, but your heart swells, tight with love and affection. 
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bonus:
“Can’t believe I got called a ‘low-grade, classless loser’,” Mingyu mutters, laving his tongue over the mark on your throat. “Could a loser do this?” His voice drops low and raspy, deep inside of his chest, as his hands dip beneath your shirt and his fingers leave sinful trails along your stomach. As soon as Seungkwan and Chan had hung up the call, Mingyu had immediately pulled you onto the armchair, pinning you into the seat with his weight, knees pressed into the cushions on either side of your thighs. 
You squirm, throwing your head back against the armchair in an attempt to create some space, but Mingyu just follows. His hooded gaze burns bright with affection, with desire, as he peers up at you. 
Good lord, those eyes of his. 
“H-Hey,” you stutter out when you feel the drag of his teeth against your clavicle, the sharp bite of his pointy canines. “Hey,” you repeat, pressing your hands firmly against his shoulders to push him back. “We never talked about the emoji.” 
Mingyu’s half-listening, you can tell. He pretends that he’s looking at you, but he can barely meet your eyes, gaze dipping lower to your lips and then your throat. A tongue peeks out from the corner of his mouth, just before he’s trying to lean back in. 
You scowl, threading your fingers through the soft hair at the back of his skull and tugging to pin him in place. Head forced back, Mingyu finally focuses, chest heaving. A soft whine catches in his throat and the tips of his ears flare bright red, and you would find it endearing if you weren’t trying to get answers. 
“Baby,” he purrs. “That was so hot.” 
“Down, boy.” You roll your eyes, loosening your grip on his hair. “The emoji. Explain it.” 
“What emoji?”
“The heart emoji, next to your ex’s name in your phone.” 
Mingyu pulls his brows together in thought, before he nibbles at his bottom lip sheepishly. “Okay, you’re not gonna like the answer.” 
Your stomach turns uneasily, but you shrug anyway. “Tell me.”
The man sighs. “She’s the one who put it there in the first place, and I honestly, swear on my life, forgot that it was there. But she’s since been blocked and deleted!”
You narrow your eyes, contemplating his words. “Hm,” you say, watching Mingyu squirm under your scrutiny. 
“Can I show you what you’re saved as in my contacts? Maybe it’ll make up for it.” 
You nod, waiting as he taps at his phone to pull it up. When he turns the screen around to show you, and your gaze focuses on “the littlest tiny” with five blue hearts next to it, you can’t decide if you should kick him or kiss him. 
Balking at your silence and lack of reaction, Mingyu pushes himself off of the chair to fall to his knees at your feet. He clasps his hands together and places them in your lap, eyes wide and shining with remorse. “I’m sorry,” he whines pitifully. “It was a joke, I promise!” 
You regard him coolly, thoroughly enjoying the way his bottom lip quivers into a pout. Before you can stop yourself, you’re pressing a thumb against the seam of his mouth, watching with acute interest as it parts and his tongue, warm and soft, peeks out to meet the pad of your finger. The image sends your stomach tumbling. 
“I love you,” Mingyu mumbles, extending an olive branch. “Only you, baby.” 
You bite. “Prove it.” 
You barely catch the glimpse of the smirk curling across Mingyu’s lips, before his strong arms lift you up and out of the armchair, into his chest, and towards your bedroom. 
158 notes · View notes
allwaswell16 · 1 day ago
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F a v o r i t e F i c s O f 2 0 2 4
As an ardent reader of One Direction fan fiction, 2024 has been an amazing year for fics! I read so many incredible fics this year, so please check out all my recs for the year here! Below you will find fics that brought me to tears, made me laugh, comforted me, filled me with joy, or had me yelling in my living room. I share this list with you all not to say that these fics are better than others from this year, but to say thank you to these writers who have left a mark on me with their fics.
To all our fandom's writers, thank you for the gift of your stories! Sending much love to you in the new year!
🪩 Louis / Harry 🪩
with venom on your tongue by wildestdreams / @thelavendrhaze
(E, 91k, enemies to lovers) a boarding school AU where Harry and Louis are academic rivals until they realize they’re more similar than they thought.
don't be afraid to love (and love again) by localopa / @voulezloux
(T, 83k, trans Louis) the one where louis is trans and afraid, harry is cis and brave, and being 100% yourself is easier said than done.
When the Lights Go Out by thelarenttrap / @antidotetogo
(E, 79k, F1 au) In its near eighty years of existence, Formula 1 has never had an out gay driver. In 2017, Harry Styles signs a contract with Scuderia AlphaTauri alongside his childhood friend and competitor, Louis Tomlinson. The next decade of their careers is some of the most tumultuous press--on and off the track--Formula 1 has ever seen.
I'm Praying (that you don't burn out or fade away) by @lululawrence
(NR, 74k, soulmates) Harry and Louis are literal stars who have known they were soulmates from their creation eons ago, however when Louis came to Earth to start the next phase of their fated future, he forgot everything. Even Harry.
A Frail Farewell by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings
(M, 44k, famous/not famous) Louis can’t believe his luck when he is offered one of the easiest jobs he has had as a long-term house-sitter for the wealthy. Most of all he likes that there are no surprises until he gets the shock of his life from ex-pop star Harry Styles who isn’t supposed to be home.
The Things We Know To Be Wild by harryanthus_annuus / @harryanthus-annuus
(M, 39k, dragons) Louis is a London zoologist sent by the University of Highlands and Islands to assess the safety of the island of Eroda as part of the Wonder Seekers Project for sustainable tourism.
hard times in elmsmere by stylinsoncity / @aliensingucci
(M, 37k, time travel) for louis, being a full-fledged vampire complicates everything, not just his relationship with harry but with harry’s entire coven who took Louis in as an orphan.
Enough To Wish For More by galactic_larry / @galacticlarry
(M, 33k, The Bridges of Madison County au) Louis Tomlinson just wants a few days of peace and quiet while his family are out of state. But when he meets the lead singer of a band he’s never heard of, his life and everything he thought he knew about it changes forever.
Your Reign is Free (to give along to Santa) by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup
(T, 28k, humor) It’s Christmas Eve. It’s a totally normal Christmas Eve. Harry and Louis have some friends coming by, and some totally normal birthday and Christmas plans. It’s a totally typical totally normal Christmas Eve. A fic that takes place over 24 (+1) hours where surely everything will go totally to plan.
and so I have to say (before I go) by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed
(M, 27k, mystery) Sometimes falling in love is taking a leap of faith, jumping into the unknown with your eyes closed, hoping someone will be there to catch you. Sometimes falling in love is seeing the person in front of you, all their flaws and imperfections, and taking that leap nonetheless.
Rewriting the Melody by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13
(T, 26k, canon divergence) Louis doesn’t get put in One Direction. This time, the path to true love takes the long way round, including singing in toilet cubicles, fruit baskets, and long distance band counselling from someone who really doesn’t know what he’s doing, he just wants to keep talking to Harry.
Sugar, Sugar by @parmahamlarrie
(E, 25k, sugar daddy Louis) Meeting your soulmate was the most joyous event of one’s life… or at least, it’s supposed to be. Harry, in all of his 25 year old wisdom, was suspicious of the role fate plays in everyone's lives. He'd rather focus his time dating older men he meets off of a sugar baby website.
Room For One More Troubled Soul by patdkitten / @babyarcanacasey
(M, 25k, supernatural elements) Louis Tomlinson is the chief medical examiner of the Centre for the Law Enforcement of Supernatural Beings - more commonly referred to as simply "The Centre".
On a starlit night by @lunarheslwt
(M, 24k, omegaverse) omega and future Luna Louis is holding a mating ceremony to find his mate, but what he doesn’t expect to see amongst the alphas vying for his hand, is a familiar, yet unexpected face: Harry Styles.
Colorful Hearts by Larrysmomfics / @larrysmomfics
(M, 20k, humor) In a world where orgasmic emissions change color depending on the person’s mood, Louis Tomlinson’s semen has only ever been blue. At the recommendation of his doctor he attends a support group for people with similar conditions. 
 Behind Smoke Stained Curtains by @jaerie
(E, 19k, omegaverse) The worlds align when Louis meets an alpha from the road with as many secrets as he holds himself.
Stand on Holy Ground (series) by @wishingforloushair
(E, 17k, religion kink) Louis comes back to confess again, and Harry has an idea of how Louis can show God his devotion. 
Peeping by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom
(E, 16k, roommates) Louis has a thing for his housemate, Harry is under the impression that clothing around the house is an optional extra, and neither of them seem to be able to stop wanking long enough to get their shit together and admit their true feelings.
Lost But Won by @2tiedships2
(NR, 16k, omegaverse) When Harry loses his passport after a weekend trip to see Niall, the inconvenience of being stranded in America becomes a little more bearable after meeting Louis. Or a lot more bearable.
At your service, for your usage (series) by @holdingontochaos
(E, 16k, sex work) Louis is a doctor who works so much that he has barely any time to himself for pleasure, let alone to clean his house so he hires Harry as his naked maid and kills two birds with one stone.
so pull me closer, why don’t you pull me close? by @alwaysxlarrie
(M, 9k, uni) If the captain of the soccer team wants to substitute players and be Harry's partner instead... well, Harry's lemons just turned into lemon meringue pie. Who is he to argue with fate?
 and then, i wait there for you by punk_pillow_princess / @punkpillowprincess
(M, 9k, established relationship) Harry has always dreamed of having his “happily ever after”, but hasn’t found the right one yet. Suddenly, he meets Louis.
never just the tip by journeytothepast / @suckerforhome
(E, 6k, omegaverse) Harry believes alphas can't control themselves. Louis proves him wrong.
Just Two Stars Passing By by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird
(E, 5k, omegaverse) Harry blew up on TikTok and became a fashion commentator during the pandemic. Somehow he ends up covering arrival fashion for the 2024 Euros, and somehow Louis Tomlinson already knows his name.
Good-Old Fashioned Lover Boy by not_fitzwilliam / @not-fitzwilliam-darcy
(NR, 5k, omegaverse) When a miscalculated decision leads to an accidental courtship with the sweetest, most gentle alpha, Harry is torn between breaking the alpha's heart and telling the truth. 
Pretty and Preposterous by @brightlyharry
(NR, 5k, neighbors) Harry donates a copy of Pride and Prejudice to his little free library. He never expects what comes next.
 Pussy Juice by @homosociallyyours
(M, 4k, girl direction) While she manages to dodge the bar’s “special” drink, the Pussy Juice shot, she can’t avoid the feelings that come up when her former teacher (and teen crush), Louis joins her and her friends for the night.
 That’s the way love goes by bella28
(T, 4k, soulmate goose!) In a world, where soulmate geese are sent to the people who can’t figure out who their soulmate is, Harry finds himself stuck with a goose when he is attending a concert of his favourite artist Louis Tomlinson.
Come On and Rescue Me by @kingsofeverything
(E, 3k, silver fox Louis) Louis only intends to watch his hot neighbor’s Instagram live, but he winds up with his hand down his pants.
Figure This Out by @haztobegood
(E, 2k, age difference) Louis is everything Harry could have imagined when he’d typed “silver fox enthusiast” into his Grindr profile. Too bad he's probably scared Louis off by giving him too many expensive gifts.
coming home by @seekforwarmth
(E, 2k, canon) It’s coming home, one way or another.
What’s in a Name by @hellolovers13
(T, 2k, soulmates au) Louis had always known Harry was his soulmate. The name on his arm disagreed. But what did his soulmark know about true love anyway.
 You are so gorgeous (it makes me so mad) by @dreaminrainbows
(M, 2k, pining) Louis is a hot bartender and Harry is pathetically in love with him
The Unselected Journals of Louis W. Tomlinson - Vol 1 by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf
(E, 1k, epistolary) The Wandering of Things was not new, nearly two years into living here. However, the, uh, nature of this particular thing was quite different.
skinny dip (in water under the bridge) by hazzahtomlinson / @itsnotreal
(G, 880 words, exes) It’s a Wednesday and nostalgia might just get the best of Louis.
can't hide from yourself by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright
(M, 666 words, suspense) Harry's home alone, faced with his reflection. And something's not quite right.
🪩 Rare Pairs 🪩
Like A Force Of Nature by @reminiscingintherain
(T, 30k, Zayn/Liam) the Heartstopper AU no one asked for.
To start again by @loretheloner
(E, 27k, Louis/Michael Blackwell) Louis finds himself slowly falling for a bandmate again, despite Oli's warnings against it. Michael finds himself slowly falling for his boss and fighting against the ghost of Louis' past relationship. 
It’s a Craving Not a Crush by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28
(E, 9k, Liam/Louis) the one where Liam and Louis are best bros who end up getting married so that Liam has the insurance he needs to go to rehab. Now that he’s sober, they can get divorced. But do they want to?
Can You Feel Where the Wind Is by @fallinglikethis
(M, 3k, Zayn/Liam) He remembers arguing that he had no real power over anything, so no one would care about him, let alone try to hurt him. But that assessment had proven to be untrue today.
I regret you all the time by @disgruntledkittenface
(E, 2k, Louis/Prince William) Louis’ friends don’t understand, and they wouldn’t even if he explained. But every time William texts, Louis drops everything to go see him.
Skin on My Skin by Layne Faire / @laynefaire
(E, 2k, Zayn/Liam) Let me touch you where you like it Let me do it for ya
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bloomblood · 21 hours ago
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pitfighter/'emo' arc vi x piltover scientist reader (soulmate au)
(IVE HAD THIS IDEA FOR SO LONG IMMA SPEW RANDOM NONSENSE BC IM ASS AT WRITING LMAO)
•basically, reader is from piltover and has studied love and soulmates her entire life. she looks for vi, the name engraved on her wrist because she was desperate for answers.
•reader is reffered to as 'she,' or, 'the girl,' it gets a little confusing. also sorry for ooc!
it seemed like a sick joke. yeah, there were letters-a name-carved into her skin since birth. she would stare at them on lonely nights, thinking, wondering.
maybe this person would love her, even after everything. every person lost, every mistake. after caitlyn.
maybe she had hope after all.
vi scoffs in the girl's face. this random girl, vi had seen her before, but she was looking specifically for vi. they were soulmates. yeah, soulmates-like that meant anything to vi. she could care less; the ache in her chest suggested otherwise.
"you- you're serious?" the girl asks. vi rolls her eyes. "i don't need a soulmate. i don't need you, piltie. i've been on my own, and it's gonna stay that way." vi's lips twitch up into a sly smile. both of them knew it was forced.
"so do yourself a favor, sweetheart." vi steps closer, towering over her. "run away and forget about me. let's pretend this never happened."
she crosses her arms. this woman-the one she wore the name of-just told her to leave?
"then leave. im waiting." she snaps, glaring at vi. "but just know, we'll end up in this situation one way or another. i've chased this-the answer to this for my entire life, and i almost have it." she says. vi stands there for a moment, brows furrowed. she was definately going to leave, but she seemed a little crazy. or determinded, to put into better words.
"answer to what?" is all vi asks her. "the reason for soulmates." she replies with an eyeroll. "there's a scientific and logical reasoning for everything. this should be no exception."
vi rolls her eyes. yeah, totally crazy.
"right, well...you have fun with that, sweetheart." vi says casually before turning around. she pauses. a wave of panic crashes through her stomach. she thought vi would stay, ask her what she was looking for specifically, anything. but no, she was going to leave?
"wait!" she calls out as soon as vi starts walking. "what?" vi snaps out. she didn't have time for this. after everything, she couldn't. with a wound as fresh as caitlyn and pain from everything, from jinx...
"y-you're just going to leave? no questions, no nothing?" she questions, voice quiet. "you don't even know anything about me!"
there's silence. uncomfortable silence. it surrounds them, engulfs them.
"you aren't curious? about...who i am?" her voice grew even smaller. vi shakes her head as if it would shake her thoughts off.
she was really curious. after fights, on lonely nights, after a couple drinks (more like a couple bottles, with vi), after a loss, she was curious. who was she tied to? why them? why her? how would things be different if she met them? what would change? it was only the surface of questions that had swirled in her mind.
"i don't need a little soulmate to fix everything. stay away from me. go find someone that isn't me." vi replies, voice almost barely audible. "we've met before." she blurts out. "in- in piltover. you and these other kids blew up a-"
"don't." vi cuts her off. that was the beginning of everything falling apart. "it's a part of this cycle!" the girl's voice raises. "two people are born with the other's name on their skin." she starts. "then, it goes to passing. a singular moment in time the two people see each other." there's a pause. "from there, it's meeting, which develops into a bond. whether it's lovers, enemies, friends-it's all the same." she rambles.
vi's silent for a moment. this girl was...interesting, to say the least. a piltover women and a fighter from the undercity. perfect match.
"we're complete opposites, sweetheart. we aren't meant to be." vi mumbles. "w-well humans are attracted to contrasts. it's what we learn to go to or stray from." she says softly. vi sighs. maybe, in a sense, they were alike. they're both stubborn. this girl was fragile, shy, stubborn. but vi is a fighter. she's strong and stubborn.
some people aren't meant to be. they aren't destined to succeed. others...it's in their blood-on their skin. just how in black letters, it read 'violet,' on her wrist.
(i'll write a part 2 if y'all like this lmk please!!! i'll take requests too if anyone wants any because i need to write more-)
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thisapplepielife · 1 day ago
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Written for the Third Annual Spicy Six Fanworks Challenge hosted by @thefreakandthehair.
Sometimes Dreams Change
Prompt: "There’s no rule against just looking!" | Word Count: 4930 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Lingering Upside Down Trauma, Mentions of Therapy | Tags: Future Fic, Thanksgiving, Old Friends, Reconnecting, Friends to Lovers, Personal Growth, Found Family, Non-Famous Corroded Coffin, Platonic Stobin, Good Uncle Wayne Munson
Also right here on ao3.
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"You're staring," Wayne says.
"What?" Eddie asks, but he's still focusing on the action happening across the room. Steve's carving the turkey at the kitchen counter, Robin flitting around, giving what Eddie is sure is unnecessary, and nearly certainly unhelpful, feedback.
"You're staring," Wayne repeats, nudging Eddie in the ribs.
Eddie jerks his head, gaze changing directions.
"There's no rule against just looking!" Eddie snaps, and Wayne just keeps staring at him, unimpressed.
This is stupid. 
Steve Harrington ran into them at the Big Buy, invited them to Thanksgiving dinner, and now Eddie is looking at his handsome ass in a pair of very well tailored khakis and a dark teal sweater, carving a fucking turkey that he cooked himself. This shouldn't work for Eddie, but it is.
He's matured. He's a goddamn man. He looks it, sounds it, and by this house, lives it.
The house is his now, his parents moving onwards and upwards, apparently. Leaving Hawkins for good. Lots of people did, though, after that spring of '86. Eddie being one of the first out the door. But looking around, Steve has remodeled this house into a home, something that looks warm and lived in, unlike it did back when Steve was a teen. It clearly has the fingerprints of Steve and Robin all over it, and it's for the better.
In a world where Eddie is still living out of his duffel bag, and spending his nights in crowded smoky bars, Steve has gone and become a real grown up. Who'd have thought? 
When Eddie thinks of Steve, of Robin, they are still frozen as they were that summer they all spent together healing. 
But that's not the truth of it, not anymore. No, now Steve's carving a turkey. Eddie's not sure he'd even be trusted with a paring knife.
He isn't even sure of the last time he's had an actual turkey for Thanksgiving that didn't come pre-sliced on a sandwich from a gas station. He's definitely never cooked one.
Gareth and Mama Jones are at the table, chit-chatting, and it's just the six of them. Apparently, Robin had demanded a turkey, and the only one they had left was too big for two people, so the invite to Eddie and Wayne ended up being extended to Gareth and his mom, too. 
And here they are. A hodgepodge of pairings that didn't really have anywhere else to be for the holiday.
Eddie hadn't even laid eyes on Steve Harrington since the band fled town, Eddie freshly healed from his wounds after his week in hell. And now they're spending the holiday together. It makes no sense.
The band hasn't made it big, but they've made it work. They play regularly, make enough cash to get by, and that's more than he'd ever expected, honestly. They're serviceable musicians that have gotten more polished with practice and time, but they're not good enough to be stars, that's for damn sure. But the gigs are fun, and pay the bills, at least some of the time, so they've kept at it just because they still love to do it.
Eddie tears his eyes away from Steve before Wayne gives him more shit, and goes to sit next to Gareth, his back to the kitchen so he'll stop gawking.
It's just good to see old friends, that's all.
After dinner, they sit around a catch up, and Eddie has honed in on something that he doesn't like. Not at all.
Getting Wayne alone, he stares him down.
"What?" Wayne drawls.
"Don't what me," Eddie hisses.
Wayne laughs, and Eddie has to nip this in the bud.
"Don't you dare," Eddie says, yanking on Wayne's arm, fingers digging into the plaid sleeve of his shirt.
"What are you on about, kid?" Wayne asks, playing dumb, and Eddie gives him the best version of stink-eye that he can muster.
"That's his mom," Eddie bemoans, and Wayne laughs.
"I'm just being friendly. You're reaching."
Eddie is not reaching. Wayne doesn't sit around and laugh like a loon, but he's damn well been doing it all afternoon. He is not hitting on Mama Jones. That's…that's against the law. Several, probably.
"Don't," Eddie warns.
"You could be brothers," Wayne says, goading Eddie, and Eddie takes the bait. He always does. 
"Stop it. Right now. Or I'm telling."
Wayne laughs, "Telling who? My mother? She's been dead for a while, kid. Sorry about that."
Eddie huffs out an annoyed breath, "I'm gonna go smoke. You mind your own goddamn business, old man. Or I'll tell Gareth, and well, those will be your consequences to deal with."
It's cool outside, not really cold, but definitely breezy. Eddie pulls his jacket tighter to his body. He lights a cigarette, and takes a deep breath, looking over at the winterized pool and the woods beyond.
It's weird being home in Hawkins, and even stranger being at Steve Harrington's house. He's stayed away for nearly a decade, not really ready to face the town that would have been happier to see him strung up in the town square, innocent or not.
"Eddie Munson," Steve says from somewhere behind him, and Eddie jumps, then laughs.
"Steve Harrington," Eddie responds, offering his hand. Steve takes it, giving it a firm shake and it feels weird. They aren't handshake guys. 
"That's me," Steve says, "nice to meet you."
Eddie laughs, at least Steve thinks the handshake was as ridiculous as Eddie does.
"Thanks for inviting us, man. It was really good. I had no idea you could cook a turkey."
Steve smiles, "Well, honestly, me either. I just found a cookbook in the cabinet and winged it. Luckily I didn't burn the house down or anything."
And then Steve laughs. 
Somehow, Steve Harrington at thirty-two is even more gorgeous than he was at twenty. Life is truly unfair. Eddie's not sure how this man isn't married with the half dozen kids that he'd once wanted. But he looks happy, settled. His face seems free of the trauma they once shared, while Eddie feels forever destined to be treading water. 
He wishes he had the secret to that, because out of the blue he'll still have nightmares. Gareth has to wake him up, and reassure him he's fine, that everything's fine, that it's not real.
But it was real. He lived it. 
And it has fucked him up, irreparably.
"Catch me up, tell me everything," Steve says, hand snaking out and stealing his cigarette, taking a long drag. Eddie's body thrums with a want that he hasn't felt in a good long while.
"Don't tell Robin," Steve says with a wink, handing the cigarette back and then looks at Eddie expectantly. Eddie really doesn't have a lot to tell.
"Well, we're on the road. We get gigs, solid work, but it's not like we're gonna break into the mainstream anytime soon. Anytime at all, honestly."
"But you enjoy it? The gigs? The travel?" Steve asks, and isn't that a string of loaded questions.
"Yes," Eddie says, "most of the time."
Steve cocks his head to the side, like a curious dog, "And the other times?"
"It's rough, sometimes. Still. Always." 
"What would it take for you to feel better on the road more often?" Steve asks.
Fuck if Eddie knows. If he did, he'd already be doing it. He just shrugs.
"What kind of support system do you have while you're away from home?"
Eddie doesn't really have a home, but that's a can of worms he's definitely not cracking open.
"Um, Wayne's always a phone call away? And the guys are there," he says, then adds, "Gareth has made it his life's purpose to make sure I'm not alone for longer than five minutes. Makes bathroom time fun, let me tell you."
Then he feels his face flushing. He's rambling. He tried to make it seem like it's a joke, but it's not. Not really. He just doesn't know why he's admitting to any of this. It's like Steve turned on a faucet and now Eddie's leaking out all his private business, full-flow.
"I'm almost never alone. By design," Eddie adds.
That's the cold, honest truth. 
"Why do you think that is?" Steve asks, looking like he expects Eddie to have an answer. Good god, that's a lot of questions, a lot of expectations. 
"What are you, my therapist?" Eddie teases, trying to turn the tide away from seriousness, and Steve laughs, head tossed back, hair flying.
"Well. Not your therapist. But a therapist," he says, and no fucking way. Eddie didn't know that. How did he not know that?
That's one way to fix yourself he supposes.
He grins, leaning closer, leering a little, "You gonna psychoanalyze me? Find out what my damage is?"
Steve doesn't back away, instead he reaches out and cups Eddie's shoulder, squeezing, "Unfortunately, I know what your damage is."
And fuck. He certainly does, at least the biggest, hardest chunk of it. Eddie casts his eyes to the ground.
"But if you want to talk," Steve says, and Eddie is already shaking his head, but Steve keeps going, "off the record, off the books, just me and you. Old friends. Shared experiences. All that. Definitely not as your therapist. That's unethical. But, believe it or not, I've been told I'm a good listener."
He smiles, and it's so warm Eddie wants to word vomit all over him. He won't. But he wants to.
Steve keeps talking, "I'm always here if you want me to be. But that'd be true no matter what I did for a living."
And Eddie nods at that. He knows it's an honest offer, no strings attached. Because he knows Steve Harrington. He's a good dude.
Back on the road, Eddie didn't think he would, but he calls Steve. From motels. From pay phones. And he answers, carving out time to hear about Eddie's day. It must be draining for him to hear people talk all day about their problems, their damage, and then make the time to listen to Eddie do more of the same at least once a week for free.
Eddie tries not to take up his personal time, but Steve is a good listener, as advertised. He gives solid ear, which is probably good since that's his job. But mainly, he just listens and then sounds like he actually cares.
He does care. Eddie knows he does. Steve Harrington has always cared about all of them.
"You're really a therapist to the people of Hawkins?" Eddie asks.
Steve laughs, a snorting thing that sounds delighted, "Absolutely not. No, no, no. I have an office in Muncie. I'm not touching the problems of the people of Hawkins with a ten foot pole. They're a lost cause."
Eddie laughs. He knows that's hyperbole, but still. Yeah. Steve Harrington can't be a therapist in Hawkins. That'd be playing on hard mode, for sure. He knows too much about all of them, and they surely have opinions on him as well. Correct, or not.
"Well, did becoming a therapist help you get rid of all your baggage?" Eddie asks, because he's been curious. Steve seems so upbeat, so happy, that Eddie wants in on the secret.
"No," Steve laughs, "I've still got a few suitcases in the closet. But it has made me accept myself and my history more. But I went to therapy first, and that's what helped me process what we all went through."
"How in the hell did you tell a therapist what we went through without ending up committed in Pennhurst?"
Steve chuckles, "Dr. Owens set it up. He would have for you, too, if you hadn't flown the coop so damn fast."
"I wouldn't have trusted them," Eddie says, and that's the god's honest truth. No way, no how.
"I get it. It was hard. Robin went first. She survived, and so I thought, well, why not? It helped. Then, I wanted to do that for other people, to help them, too. Pay it forward. Whatever you want to call it."
"And that's what you're doing for me? I'm your project?" 
Steve laughs. 
"No, I'm your friend. I'm not your therapist."
He tells Eddie that at least once per call. 
"But I'd help you find one, if you ever want that. Because what I tell you isn't my professional opinion, it's my personal one. I'm not objective. I can't be. Because I was there. Because while I didn't experience the exact same thing as you, I know. I remember. You're not crazy. You're not overreacting. What happened to you, to all of us, sucked. It was unfair. And I'm sorry for the younger versions of us."
Eddie is quiet for a moment. 
"Me too, Steve. Me, too."
Another call, in another city, in another motel room that doesn't feel like home.
"I have sex to fill the holes," Eddie blurts out, totally unprompted. 
Steve cackles in his ear, and even from several states away, Eddie can feel the amusement on his face. Can picture it, clear as day. 
"Well, that is one of the main ways sex happens." 
Eddie laughs, "You're an asshole." 
"You teed me up. That's on you," Steve teases, and it makes Eddie feel better. He prefers that to feeling stripped raw. 
"There's nothing wrong with having an active sex life," Steve says.
"Gross," Eddie teases, then after a long pause, "Most of the time I feel worse after," Eddie admits, and he doesn't know why. 
"Then that could be a concern," Steve says. "Why do you think it can make you feel worse?"
"I want to feel safe. And I'm never gonna get that on the road from random hookups. I want a home to return to. I want to be loved, I think." 
"That's normal, Ed. I want you to have that, too." 
"But I can't meet someone on the road. And I don't want to just go home to Wayne and be a drain. I need space to recharge, not feel obligated to put on my bravest face." 
"Wayne doesn't want your bravest face, he just wants you, as you are."
"I know," and Eddie does know that. But it's easier said than done, "but I can't. He can't know how bad off I am, sometimes. He'd worry."
Steve lets the silence sit, he's gotten good at that, and that's always to Eddie's determent, because Eddie will fill any silence offered up to him.
"Why don't you have a family?" Eddie asks, and then immediately regrets it. It's too blunt, even for old friends.
Steve doesn't seem to miss a beat, though. Eddie guesses that's fair. If Steve can ask probing questions, so can Eddie. Even if he has far less tact about it.
"I mean, I have Robin. She's my family."
"But you didn't get married? Didn't have kids? You really wanted that. That was your dream," Eddie says, because that's something he's always felt sure about. Steve wanted to settle down, and Eddie wanted to fly free. 
"Well," Steve says, "sometimes dreams change. And that's okay."
And that cuts Eddie to the quick, because he damn well knows that's true. He's been feeling like maybe his dream has changed, but he's been tamping it down for months. Years, maybe.
But he can't tell the guys that he dreams of hanging up his guitar. Of going home, wherever home may be. He can't let them down like that. They were there when he needed them the most, and he's determined to be there for them now. 
It's just exhausting, and he hates that he feels that way. It's supposed to be fun.
"Okay, how about this? Come here, then," Steve says, "come home here. Anytime. Lay low, recharge your batteries with me. And Robin. We'll let you be. Let you step away from the music for a day, a weekend, a week, a month at a time. Whatever you need." 
"Steve, I can't just crash your life," Eddie says. 
"You won't. We'd love to have you. I promise to not 'therapize' you," he teases, using Eddie's own words against him, and Eddie imagines he even did the sarcastic air quotes.
"I-"
"You can."
And maybe Eddie will.
Steve opens the door to the guest room, "It has its own bathroom, so you've got your own space. But the whole house is free range. Go where you want. Do what you want. I get home at about six, Robin at seven. We usually eat then, and you're welcome to join us. Or eat before we get here to avoid us, or after we go to bed. Leftovers will be in the fridge. Help yourself."
"Steve, this is-"
"Nothing. We're glad you're here. And if I don't see you before you leave, it's been good to see your face. Twice in one year, now we're talking."
Eddie laughs, and leans forward to rest his forehead on Steve's shoulder, "Thanks, Steve."
"Anytime."
Eddie stays holed up for three days. He hears Steve and Robin, but never sees them, and true to Steve's word, they don't try to draw him out of his room. He sleeps, and writes, and just the sounds of them moving around the house makes him feel not so alone.
On the fourth day, he's sitting at the kitchen counter when Steve walks in, grocery bags in hand.
"It's chicken parm night," Steve says, not making a fuss about seeing him for the first time in days.
"Sounds good."
He eats with them, and he feels so much better, that he regrets it when it's finally time to get back to the band.
After that, the room becomes Eddie's, somehow. He leaves stuff, and comes and goes. Tonight he drops his bags at the door, and immediately barrels over the back of the couch. Steve protects his crotch from a stray knee, but otherwise catches him, laughing.
He's home. 
Somehow, this is his home, even if he's scared to admit that to himself.
They haven't talked about it, have barely even breathed it, but it's the god's honest truth: Steve Harrington is his home.
Steve smooths Eddie's hair back from his forehead and then rests his cheek against Eddie's exposed skin.
"How was the gig?" Steve asks, and Eddie makes a non-committal noise. It was fine, but he's tired and doesn't want to talk. He just wants to lay here.
And Steve lets him do exactly that.
He must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knows Steve is rousing him.
"Bed," Steve says, and Eddie reluctantly climbs off of him. Steve has to work tomorrow, but Eddie wasn't done. Life's unfair like that. 
Eddie follows him up the stairs, and down the hall, and detours into his room as Steve keeps walking. 
Eddie brushes his teeth, washes his face, and then lays in the bed staring at the ceiling. 
He can't sleep like this. 
Finally, Eddie gets up, walks down the hall and taps on Steve's door.
"Come in," Steve answers, muffled.
Steve says nothing else, asks no questions for once in his life, just throws back the sheets, an invitation. Eddie takes it, and crawls in his bed, pressing his face into Steve's bare back, arm wrapped around, squeezing him tight. Steve just rests his hand on Eddie's arm, squeezing briefly, before he falls back asleep.
After that, his own bed stays empty. He shows up, crawls in bed with Steve, and neither of them mention it. It is what it is.
Instead, they talk about everything else. Eddie spills his guts, and tells him everything under the cover of night. All his biggest fears, all the pain that still digs at him, down deep.
And Steve listens.
It's becoming a pattern of good days and bad days. He has good days with Steve, and bad days anywhere else. It's unfair to the band, and he doesn't know how to tell them that he's been thinking things they aren't going to like.
"How's Steve?" Gareth asks. 
Eddie nods, non-committal, "Good. The same." 
"Jeff got the new stack of contracts. Five shows a week, all over the country." 
Eddie doesn't wince. Doesn't move a muscle. Nobody told him they planned to hit the circuit that aggressively. 
It's fine. 
"Some weeks six," Gareth adds.
"That's cool," Eddie says, neutral. Cool as a cucumber. 
"Won't have much time off anymore," Gareth says. "Probably won't get to go home for a while."
"At least we'll be making some extra cash," Eddie says, aiming for the bright side. 
"Well, they aren't big offers. But enough to keep us on the road with some beer money to spare." 
Eddie nods, and says nothing. 
Gareth flops down next to him, "All that sounds good to you?" 
"Sure, whatever we've got scheduled is great."
Gareth whips around, grabbing his arms and shaking him, "Goddamnit, Ed! Fight back! Stand up for yourself!" 
Eddie just stares at him. What the fuck is he talking about? This kid is gonna give him whiplash. Figuratively, and literally, if he doesn't stop shaking him.
"Say you want to quit, or take a break, or just see Steve! At least tell me the truth if you won't tell anybody else!" 
Eddie grabs at his hair and pulls. 
Gareth doesn't let go of him, saying, "None of that is true, I was just trying to get you to tell me the truth for once. Since when did you start lying to me? To me." 
"We don't have new contracts?" Eddie asks. 
"No. We all talked. We're taking a break. Stepping back to see if this is still what we want. And you need to do that, too. At home, with Steve, with Wayne, wherever you need to be." 
"I need you," Eddie says. 
"I'll go where you go, if you want me to. Just. We can't keep doing it like this. You look miserable." 
He is miserable.
"I've tried to keep my head in it," Eddie swears, because he has.
"I know that. We all know that. We love you, that's never gonna change." 
And Eddie leans forward, pressing his forehead into Gareth's shoulder. Gareth pets his head, and lets him lean against him, "It's gonna be fine. No matter what."
"Thanks, kid."
When Eddie turns up this time on Steve's doorstep, it's late, and he has extra baggage. 
Gareth looks like he's moving in for good with his luggage and drums, but Steve looks completely unfazed. 
Robin, on the other hand, "Why are you here?"
"I don't want to talk about it," Gareth mumbles, and climbs the stairs.
"And why are there drums? There'll be no drumming in this house!" Robin yells, but Steve seems nonplussed and just keeps guiding them upstairs.
"Pick a room, or hole up in Eddie's. It's got its own bathroom," Steve says, and Eddie feels like that's an engraved invitation for him to keep crashing with Steve. Good. He wants that. 
Everybody is tired, and splits off for the night.
Once in bed, Eddie rolls onto his side, "He went home to surprise Mama Jones, and he's the one that got surprised. Wayne was in his old man boxers on the couch. Gareth may need intensive therapy. Shock therapy. Exposure therapy. Something."
Steve smiles, "Not it."
And Eddie laughs, rolling closer to Steve. He already feels better just being next to him.
He's looking forward to this break. 
The next morning, Eddie's sitting at the kitchen counter doing the crossword. Gareth's still in bed, Robin and Steve are cooking breakfast, bickering, in front of him. He's learned to tune it out for the most part. He's shared rooms in motels with paper thin walls for over a decade. He can ignore anything at this point.
"Ask your boyfriend, I sure as hell don't know," Robin says, and Eddie freezes. Well, he can't ignore that.
"Oh, like he knows," Steve answers, not missing a beat of their banter. 
Are they boyfriends? Did Eddie miss that memo? Holy shit. Does he have a boyfriend he's never even kissed? 
Then his stomach swoops, maybe Steve has a real boyfriend, one Eddie's just never met because he's never here, because he's self-centered and lost in his own—
"Earth to Eddie, I'm talking to you," Robin says, snapping her fingers in Eddie's face. 
Oh. He is the aforementioned boyfriend. 
He laughs, and it sounds shrill to his own ears, "What? I was off in my own world." 
"Well, what else is new?" Robin chides. 
He has a boyfriend, and he's just not sure how.
That night, Eddie is tossing and turning in bed. He can't sleep. Not with this hanging over his head. It's all he's thought about all damn day. Is Steve his boyfriend? Does Steve want to be his boyfriend? Can they fuck? Can they get married?
"What's up?" Steve asks, voice thick with sleep.
"Are we boyfriends?" Eddie asks, blunt and direct. Well, at least he didn't ask him if they could fuck. Small miracles abound.
Steve rolls over at that, "How would you feel about being boyfriends?"
Eddie wants to scream, "Can you, for once, not answer my questions with more questions?!"
Steve reaches out and takes both of Eddie's forearms into his hands, "I love you. In any way you'll let me."
He surges forward and kisses Steve, too hard, too fast, and it's awful. He's awful. Everything about this is awful. Steve deserves better than whatever the fuck this was.
"I'm sorry, goddamn, what the fuck is wrong with me?" Eddie asks, and he hears the blood rushing in his ears. He's embarrassed. 
"Nothing's wrong with you. Robin shouldn't have said that. I don't expect anything from you. No strings are attached here. But, yeah. I feel like whatever we've got going is something, but if you aren't interested—
Eddie cuts him off, "I've been interested since before you knew my name back in school. I just didn't think you would ever be."
"Eddie," Steve says, "I had feelings after everything that happened that spring. I just didn't have time to work through them, or understand them, until you were already gone."
What is Eddie supposed to do with that information? 
Eddie reaches for his hand, and laces their fingers together.
He's such a mess he got into some kind of relationship with Steve without even meaning to, and now he's got to navigate that. He wants to though, he really, really wants to. Even if he's bad at it. Even if he's never had a long-term romantic relationship, ever. 
Maybe he'll be bad at it, maybe he won't. But finally, with the band on hiatus, he'll have the luxury of time to try to do it right. 
And he'll get a second-crack at that kiss if it's the last thing he does.
Six Months Later
Eddie slings his bag over his shoulder, all smiles. Pressing his lips to Steve's. Once, twice, a third time just for good measure, and Steve grins against his lips until Eddie kisses his teeth by accident.
He's leaving home, but he'll be coming back again in just a few days.
"Hold down the fort," he instructs Steve, and Steve salutes him, and then Eddie's out the door.
On stage, he has fun, so much fun, in fact, that he hesitates to leave the bright spotlights at the end of the set. It hasn't been like that in a long, long time. They've gotten some bigger gigs, still nothing life-changing, but an opening act slot that is putting them in a handful of larger venues they've never stepped foot inside until now.
It's pretty goddamn cool.
He's found a balance, somehow, and he knows it's all thanks to Steve's patience.
And when he walks back through the door at home, Steve is wrestling a turkey into a disposable pan. Getting ready to start the days-long thawing process. Eddie watches him put it in the fridge, and then wash his hands.
It's been a year, and Eddie feels like his whole world has changed. One random meeting in the grocery store changed the whole trajectory of his life, he's pretty damn sure.
"I got the dining room table leaf out of the attic," Steve says, "we should have plenty of room for the Williamses and the Goodwins now."
Eddie grins. Their tradition is growing, and he couldn't be happier that more people he loves will all be under one roof for Thanksgiving this year.
"Wayne and Mama Jones are bringing the mashed potatoes," Eddie informs Steve. He'd just talked to Wayne this morning, and the old man was complaining about all the potato peeling in his future.
"Robin would cry and whine if we made her mash that many," Steve says, and Robin yells "Hey!" from the other room, and they just laugh together.
It's going to be a family affair, the whole extended family. Anybody that's in town. Dustin and Claudia. Joyce and Hop. 
Anybody that doesn't want to cook at home, or just wants to be with old friends, are more than welcome. Eddie thinks this is gonna be their tradition now, and he loves it.
"I actually got two turkeys," Steve says, leaning against the kitchen counter, crossing his legs at the ankle as he tosses the dish towel over his shoulder. 
"You sure that's enough?" Eddie asks, teasing.
"Here's to hoping," Steve answers. 
He's home. Steve's here. Robin's here. Gareth's here.
Everybody else that he loves will be here in a few days time. He feels really thankful.
And most importantly, he finally feels very loved.
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Notes: Coming in hot with that new couple alert!! Go Wayne and Mama Jones, haha. I couldn't resist. It seemed like such fun, and Gareth would hate it.
When I wrote Take the Money and Run I had to figure out where Hawkins was on the map to me. I'd picked the location of Renner, and I've kind of just kept with that as I've written other things, this included. So, Muncie sits about 26 highway miles southeast of Hawkins, and that seemed like a reasonable place for Steve to commute to work. I wanted Steve in "Harrington House" as I nearly always do, lol, but he could not be a therapist to Hawkins. It was fun to imagine though. Karen Wheeler on his couch talking about Ted? Tommy H. discussing his third divorce? The possibilities were endless, if surely unethical, haha.
For better or worse, if I need a Macguffin for how they got money or help or anything from the government after the events of S4, it's probably gonna be Dr. Owens. And that was true here as well. Thanks, Dr. O. You've been real helpful to me, and the characters! You're a clutch dude, lol.
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jyuyuverse · 3 days ago
Text
The winner takes it all
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rating: 18+ | mndi
pairings: Yunho x fem reader
genre: romance | friends to lovers trope
themes: angst, smut, jealousy
word count: x
on going au
Teaser under the cut
Guilt was starting to eat you alive and for a moment you started thinking that maybe this was also affecting him as much as it was affecting you. You no longer had someone who you knew you could always rely on. And that was on you, it was your fault. But that also meant that he didn't have anyone either. You didn’t care that you had to struggle on your own now. But you couldn’t stand the idea that maybe he was struggling on his own too.
“Avoiding you?” you say, “yes, avoiding me Y/n” now he sounds frustrated, “do you think I have not noticed your change of behavior?”, “behavior?” still trying to act clueless.
His eyes burn into you. You don’t know if now he’s mad or just way too fed up with your bullshit. “Can you stop?” his voice raising slightly, “Yunho-” you gulped. Throughout all the years of friendship with Yunho, you rarely saw him angry, and most importantly, never because of you. A mix of feelings stir inside you. Fear but also heat were slowly taking over your body, you didn’t want to confront him, you didn’t want to make him angry. You just wanted to get this over with but that also meant accepting defeat. At the same time you wanted to test his limits, see how far things would go. And you knew deep down that wasn’t a good idea. Still without much hesitation, you already had made up your mind…
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Author’s note: This is my first fan fic. I want to make it long enough and really develop the plot of the story. Will continue to write over this next week and hopefully finish it by Saturday, (or sooner). Will update soon.
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