#hang em high fic

[toruro]

— ✧ the letter

i hope one word, one letter, will laugh and cry with you (the letter / ateez)

pairing. xu minghao x reader

description. in which you’re jun's little sister and have been pining for a man so close yet so out of reach for ages. now, years later, when you see minghao all grown up, famous, and still making your heart flutter, you're not so sure what to do about your not-so-little crush.

genres. slowburn, fluff, angst, childhood f2l

tags. idol!au, alcohol consumption & underage drinking, lots of arguments, Lots of pent up emotions oops, miscommunication, sorta hot headed reader, minghao is minghao and that is a warning enough

fic playlist.

w/c. 26k

a/n. the smut has been moved to a separate post which can be found here! i had so so so much fun writing this! huge thanks to @gyuswhore bc em literally helped me through every step of the way & sat through me planning & switching around the events of the story a bajillion times, and thank u to @honeyhypen who read over this for me ^-^

ENVELOPE

To: Xu Minghao

“Why are you in my room?” Jun huffs, turning around to look up at you as you stand by his door. In front of him is a massive, yet unfinished LEGO replica of Hogwarts. You frown, glancing at his friend who lays on his bed with a phone up to his face.

He’s Jun’s new friend, and you’ve heard your brother talk about him but this is your first time really seeing Minghao in the flesh. Shaggy hair hangs loose over his dark eyes as he peeks over his phone and glances at Jun, as if to silently ask who you are.

“Dad says dinner is ready,” you tell him, feeling a little timid under the gaze of the new boy. He’s only two years older than you, but the only interaction you get with high schoolers is your brother, so you’re feeling shy. He’s a very nice looking boy, you think to yourself, but try hard not to stare as Minghao uncrosses his legs and sits up on your brother's bed.

Jun’s eyes soften when he notices you standing awkwardly, standing up and pointing at you as he says your name. “My sister—two years younger,” he explains.

“One point five, actually,” you correct him with a roll of your eyes, feeling more comfortable now that Jun is initiating something. Your brother laughs at you and ruffles your hair while Minghao stands up behind him.

“Ya-da, ya-da. You’re still two grades below, so it doesn’t really make a difference. Anyways, this is Minghao,” he says, pointing at his friend behind him who throws you a small smile and wave.

“I know,” you blurt out before you even have a chance to think, heat flushing to your face after you realize what you said and see Minghao give you a funny look. “I-I mean because Jun talks about you a lot,” you clarify, clearing your throat. “Y’know, he doesn’t have a lot of friends so when—”

Jun clamps a hand over your mouth and gently drags you out of the room as Minghao follows behind closely with silent laughter. “That’s enough from you. Watch it, or I’m never letting you talk to my friends again.”

“Friends? I think you mean friend,” you retort, looking back at Minghao who watches the two of you amusedly. “Are you sure you want to be friends with someone so mean to his sist—”

Jun flicks your forehead and you push his chest. “Shut up already! If you scare away all my friends, all I’ll have left is you, and you’ll just have to put up with me all day!”

“You’re right about that,” you say with a heavy sigh as you all make your way to the dinner table where your father has set out a meal for the three of you. Putting your hands up in defeat as you sit down at your spot at the middle end of the table, you glance at Minghao who takes a seat with Jun sitting between the two of you. “I guess I’ll back off for now.”

Jun scoffs. “You better.” The three of you laugh together.

Yiren rummages through your closet, and you frown deeply. “Hey! You better clean that up,” you warn, rolling off of your bed and onto the floor, lazily standing up.

“I’m helping you pick out a nice outfit! You said Minghao is coming ri—” You scramble to your feet to slap a hand over Yiren’s mouth, eyes wide.

“Shut up! My brother’s room is right there—he might hear you!”

Yiren rolls her eyes, nudging your hand off her mouth with a huff. “Oh my god, don’t tell me you haven’t told him yet.”

“What?” you narrow your eyes at her, grabbing one of your bras that she threw onto the ground and stuffing it back into your closet. “You thought I was going to tell Jun that I have a crush on his best friend?” you half whisper, half yell.

“Uh, why wouldn’t you? You’re seriously missing out on your chance to have him help you get with Minghao.”

You scoff, looking down at all the clothes strewn across the floor. “Have you met my brother? He would flip if I even mentioned being with a guy, let alone that guy being two years older and his friend.”

“You don’t know that,” Yiren retorts, throwing herself onto your bed leaving you to clean up the mess she made.

“Yes I do. This is how I can tell you don’t have any brothers …”

“Well if you never make a move on Minghao, how are you ever going to get him? You gotta start somewhere, and maybe your brother is the first nut you gotta crack to get there.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I haven’t exactly planned on making any moves,” you mumble, reaching down to pick up a cute pink jacket you haven’t seen in a while.

“Uh, why not?” Yiren piques, sitting upright on your mattress.

“Excuse me, have you looked at Minghao?” you groan, slumping against your wall with the jacket in your hands. “He’s so … cool, and popular, and handsome,” you gush, and Yiren makes a disgusted face.

“Uh, no, sorry I don’t fawn over your future husband, so I don’t really look at Minghao but—”

“And he’s going to be a senior! Why would a senior ever go for—” you look down and gesture at yourself, “—me.”

“You’re seriously downgrading yourself—you know you’re a catch.”

“Yeah, not for someone like him,” you snort, flopping down onto your bed next to her. “It’s whatever, it’s a stupid crush anyways.”

“Yeah,” Yiren says flatly. “You’ve only been crushing on him for like three years—hey! Don’t hit me!”

“Then stop saying this stuff,” you groan, throwing a pillow onto her head.

“Okay fine, I’ll stop. So are you going to wear that?” she asks, pointing at the jacket you left at the foot of your bed.

“Yeah, I think I will. It’s cute right?”

“Mhm … bet Minghao will totally like it and—”

“Yiren, shut up,” you giggle, pushing her again as you roll off the bed. “Okay, so the pink jacket and these jeans?” you ask, picking one pair off the ground and holding it up for her to see.

“Mm, no,” she says while shaking her head, standing up to join you as she looks at all of the clothes she threw across the floor. “Let’s see …” she hums to herself.

“Yiren,” you say with a laugh, “I think you’re putting more thought into this than me.”

“Well I can’t just let my best friend be single and lonely for the rest of her life! If all you do is sit around and listen to Radiohead, you’re going to end up being sixty-five and alone in some cottage in the woods.”

“Hey! That actually seems pretty peaceful,” you try to object, but Yiren narrows her eyes in your direction.

“Okay well,” she drawls out, putting her hands on your shoulders so you’re right in front of her, ���Imagine being sixty-five and living in a cute cottage in the woods with Minghao. Sounds better, doesn’t it?” You can’t help the giddy grin that makes its way onto your face when Yiren says that, and she punches your shoulder lightly when she notices. “See, you do want that! So just listen to me, okay?”

“Okay, okay, fine! Just tell me which jeans to wear.”

She looks down, picking through the denim before pulling out a light blue one with little flowers embroidered on the pockets. “Look, this is cute. It’ll match with the jacket.”

You nod along, not questioning her because as far as you know, Yiren’s fashionable instinct stretches much further than yours and whatever she says about this must be true. As you change from your pajamas  into your new, curated outfit, Yiren sits back on the bed and grins widely.

“Looks perfect on you. Minghao will love it.”

“You think?” you pique, looking at her with bright, beaming eyes.

She winks at you and you jump up and down on the balls of your feet at the excitement. “I want at least 25% of whatever you get from your wedding gifts. You both will owe me big time.”

“I’ll believe it when it happens … Anyways, you ready to go? Let’s wait downstairs and get some pop while we wait for Minghao to come,” you suggest, Yiren agreeing with a nod as she bounces behind you. Jun, it seems, is still in his room waiting for his friend, so you stick your head through his door. “We’re going down to snack a little. Wanna come?”

Your brother shrugs, pushing himself off his swiveling chair to join you. “You know if we still have those cupcakes? The ones you made last week?”

“I think we have a few left. Why? You liked them?” you exclaim happily, turning around to face Jun as the three of you settle in the kitchen. You reach for a box you kept on the island, popping off the lid to show him.

Jun grins and pulls one out and you offer one to Yiren who stands beside you. “‘course I like them,” he says with his mouth stuffed with cake and cream.

Yiren, shooting a look of disgust his way, says, “Ew! Please don’t chew and talk, that’s gross.” Jun rolls his eyes at her as Yiren stuffs her own face with the cupcake, sighing as she digs in.

“Whatever,” Jun grumbles after swallowing it down. “They taste really good, you should make them more.”

Yiren nods, tapping your shoulder, “Agreed. Send me the recipe too,” voice muffled as she continues to munch down on the cupcake.

“Didn’t you just tell me not to eat with my mouth full?” Jun mutters, crossing his hands over his chest. You laugh at the banter and suddenly you hear the doorbell ring, ears perking up. “That’s probably Minghao—I’ll get the door.”

As your brother makes his way down to the foyer, you turn to look at Yiren. “I would give you the recipe but I don’t want to be the reason your house burns down. Seriously, remember the last time you tried baking and—”

“Oh my god, is the recipe what you’re thinking about right now? Minghao is just about to come—offer him a cupcake! Show him your amazing baking skills and show him what a good housewife you can be!”

You give your best friend a look of bewilderment. “What the hell Yiren,” you groan, slapping your hand on your face, trying to hold back your chuckles. “Okay, I’ll give it to him but only because I want him to be impressed. Not because I want to submit myself to misogyny for the sake of a man.”

“Okay fine but—look!” she exclaims in a hushed whisper. “He’s here!” You immediately straighten your back and smile when Jun walks back into the kitchen with Minghao. He’s wearing some loose jeans and a black hoodie, his hair longer than before.

He says your name when he sees you, throwing up a wave and a smile. Minghao then glances at Yiren with a blank stare, pursing his lips together. Yiren chuckles nervously and clicks her tongue while pointing at herself. “Yiren.”

“Ah. Hi Yiren,” he says politely.

“You guys want some pop?” Jun offers when he opens up the fridge. Yiren, Minghao, and you nod happily and respectively call out your choices.

“Sprite!”

“Cola!”

“Cola!”

Jun juts his lip out in a pout when he turns back to the three of you. “I wanted Cola too, but there’s only two left.” You’re about to furrow your brows and tell him that it’s okay, you don’t really want any, but Minghao speaks up before you.

“She can have the Cola, I don’t mind,” he says casually, grabbing one can from Jun and handing it to you with soft eyes. “Here.”

“Are you sure? I don’t really care for the difference between Sprite and Cola and—”

Minghao chuckles and shakes his head, and you think you might just pass out when your palm brushes against his knuckles when he eases the cold can into your hand. “Seriously, it’s fine,” he tells you. You glance at Jun and Yiren who are busy opening their own cans, turning your attention back to Minghao.

“Thank you … Uh, do you want a cupcake? I made some a while ago and we still have some left,” you offer, holding up the box to him.

“It’s the last one. Are you sure?”

“How the tables have turned,” you laugh, and Minghao cracks a bright smile at that and holy crap, if you weren’t so busy trying to keep your composure, you’d be freaking out over how handsome he looks when he smiles. “‘course you can have it. I’ve had plenty of them,” you admit sheepishly as he reaches for the cupcake and brings up to his mouth.

“Holy shit. I don’t blame you for eating a lot—if I had these in my house they’d be gone in like an hour.”

“Right!” Yiren agrees, and you can’t help but chew on your bottom lip when you smile from the praise.

“Guess this is just a sign for you to make more, huh,” Jun says, walking to stand next to you to lean on your shoulder.

“Uh-uh! You gotta reimburse me somehow,” you protest, looking up at your brother with a firm expression.

“Please make more, they’re really good. I’ll buy you boba if you make more,” Minghao chimes, and it’s safe to say you don’t expect it from the way you cough on your own saliva. Yiren laughs at your reaction, and Jun only looks at you weirdly when you nod in agreement.

“Oh, so you’ll make cupcakes when he asks but not for your dear older brother?”

You roll your eyes, saying, “He offered to buy me boba! You know I can’t turn that down.”

Jun huffs in faux irritation, digging his hand into his pocket to fish out his keys. “Ya-da, ya-da. Anyways, would anyone other than my super fake, mean, evil sister like to go to karaoke now?” he asks playfully. All it takes is one glare and pulling on his hair for a few seconds to have him shouting out apologies as the four of you make your way to the car garage.

The ride to the karaoke place is short with Jun in the front and Minghao sitting in the passenger seat next to him. You and Yiren pile into the back, and the three of you scroll through your phones to decide what songs to sing later while Jun drives.

“I get to sing Creep, right?” you ask excitedly, bouncing up and down in your seat.

“How’d I know you were going to bring up Radiohead,” Jun mutters, pressing his head back into the head rest when he stops at a red light, while Minghao turns in his seat to look back at you with wide eyes.

“You like Radiohead?” he asks with a small smile.

The corners of your lips are lifted and your face brightens when you nod vigorously. “Yeah I do!”

“I think ‘like’ would be an understatement. I’m like 99% sure Thom Yorke lives in her skin or something because what she has for Radiohead is a lot more than just ‘like,’” Yiren says.

“No way, I love Radiohead,” Minghao tells you. Holy shit. So Minghao is attractive and nice and smart and pretty much perfect at everything and he enjoys Radiohead? You might go insane.

“Really?” Your eyes are wide with your jaw hanging open, leaning forward in your seat.

You hear Jun groan from the driver’s seat, and both you and Minghao shoot him a dirty look. “I forgot both of you are obsessed with Radiohead. Seriously, could either of you get more emo?”

“If you weren’t driving right now, I’d strangle you,” Minghao says bluntly before looking back at you. “Anyways, what’s your favorite song?”

“Junnie, please, can you put on Creep now? You know I’ve been waiting forever,” you plead, holding your hand out to the microphone that’s in your brother’s hand. The room is dark and lit up with red and blue LEDs across the border, making the room glow purple.

“But I want to sing another round of Taylor Swift!” he protests, pointing at the big screen in front of you while clutching the microphone close to his chest. You scoff, poking his side. “You know I’m not ticklish, so that doesn’t work.”

“You’re not ticklish? How?” Yiren exclaims, looking at Jun with wide eyes.

You turn to squint at her. “He’s weird. I thought we already established this.”

“Hey!” Jun whines. “See this is why you won’t be getting to sing Creep tonight.”

“Jun!” you cry out, and you’re about to pull out a string of complaints and curses, but then Minghao is stepping in, pointing at you.

“Put on Creep. She’s been asking for a while and I want to sing it too,” he says. Jun is quiet for a moment before sighing and handing you the microphone which leads you to puffing up your chest and smiling proudly.

“Thanks,” you chirp gleefully, as Minghao holds his own microphone up to his lips.

When he smiles at you, it’s kind and sincere in such a way that it has your heart swelling under your pretty pink jacket. Minghao coolly points at Yiren who sits by the control tablet. “Creep. Hit it.”

The air inside your house is warm as you skip down the hall and down the stairs. When the bell rang the first time, you thought it was just some package but when you hear it ring twice, you think otherwise.

When you peek through the little peep-hole, you jump up and down on the balls of your feet, a mix of excitement and nerves pools at your stomach. You open the door and Minghao shuffles in front of you at the doorstep. You haven’t seen him in a few weeks, and his hair looks shorter. “Did you cut your hair?” you ask the seventeen year old as you move to the side so he can step in.

“Yeah, it was getting in my eyes too much,” he tells you with a nod, a small puff of vapor coming from his lips. It’s cold, and you hear him inhale a breath of relief when you close the door behind him. “Thought the door was never gonna open. I was freezing my ass off,” he says, unwinding the brown scarf from his neck.

“‘m sorry,” you reply sheepishly as he takes off his shoes, following you through the foyer. “Jun didn’t tell me you were coming so I was in my room. He’s still out with my dad, but he’ll be back soon.”

“That’s fine.” Minghao shrugs off his puffer jacket, placing it on the coat rack while you make your way to the kitchen.

“Do you want a drink? It’s cold outside, so I can make some hot chocolate. Jun got the nice kind from the cafe down the street.”

“That’d be great, thanks,” he says, sitting down at one of the stools in front of the kitchen island as you take out some milk and hot chocolate powder. It’s silent, and you chew your lip while thinking about how this is the first time in a really long time that you and Minghao have been alone together.

Nearing the end of his twelfth year in high school and just like the first time you met him, he’s as enticing as ever. Dancing competitions with Jun, left and right, smart and respectful with the teachers, popular among the students—you're lucky you get to talk to someone as cool as him, even if it is only on the account that you’re his best friend’s little sister.

“How’s high school?” he asks casually as you boil some milk over the stove.

“It’s alright … English is still hard as ever,” you admit, dropping the powder into the frothing milk.

Minghao chuckles softly when you turn around to face him, and a small smile makes its way onto your lips. “Yeah, it was never my strong suit either. You still friends with … what’s her name? Sorry, I’m not good with names—the girl who lost her voice at karaoke when she came with us?”

“Yiren?” you giggle softly, recalling the memory. “Yeah. Still friends, still as loud as ever,” you say with a sigh, mixing the milk as it turns light brown. “How are things with you? Jun’s been telling me the dance practices you guys have is pretty intense. He always looks like he could eat a horse when he comes home.”

“That’s good to hear, and yeah, it’s all going good. It is pretty tiring, but it’s a lot of fun,” Minghao replies, stretching his arms behind his back as you pour out the hot chocolate into two mugs, bringing it over. “Thanks,” he murmurs, grabbing from your hand sitting down at your regular spot, one extra chair seated between the two of you as always.

Arm’s length, you think for a moment, before shaking yourself of the thought. “I’m sure the practice is paying off though—seems like Jun is always talking about some new kinda competition or something.”

“Mhm,” Minghao hums, taking a sip of the hot cacao. “This is really good, thank you,” he says with a soft smile, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel some sort of giddiness erupt in your stomach. “I think … I think we can really take it somewhere—our dancing.”

It’s a sparing thought that Minghao and Jun’s dreams are far beyond yours, and you have a bit of a difficult time trying to understand what he means by somewhere and if that somewhere includes you or not.

“You’re going to Korea?” your eyebrows furrow as you glance between Jun and your parents.

“Nothing’s finalized yet—” your mother says, but when Jun’s eyes flicker between you and the ground, you already know that this is set in stone.

“Yes it is.” Your voice is small when the words come out. “You—” you take a deep breath, “—you’re going.”

“Not now, of course,” your dad says, patting your back as he stands up, your mother following suit. “Talk for a few minutes, yeah?” he says as both your parents walk out. When your whole family walked into your room ten minutes earlier to tell you they had big news, you weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it certainly was not this.

And now you’re sitting with your brother on one end of your bed while you’re curled up against your pillows on the other, unable to meet his gaze.

“When are you going?” you ask quietly, finally breaking the silence.

“August.”

“That’s in a month and a half,” your shoulders deflate as you say it. “How long?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.” You bury your face in your hands in hopes that it’ll muffle your cries. It doesn’t.

Jun scoots over to you quickly when he sees your shoulders shake, one arm going around your back to pull you close to his body, but you still can’t bring yourself to look at him. “How are you going to do it?” you blubber as your brother pats your back. “You can’t just go to a whole different country alone and—”

“I won’t be alone. Minghao is coming with me,” Jun tells you quickly. Now that brings your head up. You don’t care that your nose is snotty and that your hair is all over the place and that your face burns, you just need to see the look on Jun’s face to see that he isn’t messing with you.

The way his own eyes are glossy gives you your answer. “Y-you both got accepted into tha-that company?”

Jun nods. “We applied together.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were applying? I-I would’ve understood. You could have given me more time to process this and—” You look down at your hands, “Fuck,” you mutter to yourself, not finding the words in your throat.

“We didn’t even know if we would get accepted. Me and Minghao promised each other that we’d only follow through with it if both of us got in and we didn’t think that there’d be a high chance of that because it’s so competitive … I only told Mom and Dad because until we got the acceptances, I really didn’t think it was going to actually happen.” You gulp at his words, trying to let it all sink in.

“I think … I think I just need to go on a walk. Take a breather, y’know,” you mutter under your breath as you stand up. Just as you're about to walk away, you stop yourself, looking back at Jun who stares down at his hands. You don’t think twice before wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hugging him tightly. “I’m really proud of you,” you say quietly before rushing out of your room and down the stairs.

You shove your feet into some slippers in the foyer, rushing out onto the street soon after. You aren’t sure what you’re doing or where you’re headed, but you continue to trudge along the sidewalk until you’re walking down the main road.

The summer air is hot and stuffy, and you wonder if you feel so suffocated because of the sun’s onslaught or because of thoughts that run through your head. It’s surrounding you, breathing it in, it fills your lungs, courses through your veins, rushes to your brain—you don’t know what it is, but it’s uncomfortable and has you dizzy and your vision foggy.

You lean against a thick lamppost next to you, hands on your knees as you knit your eyebrows together as sweat beads down your forehead. What the fuck, you think as you breathe in through your nose.

You hear your own name bounce around in your head, and the sound only grows louder and louder until you’re muttering under your breath, telling yourself to shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up. And there are tears in your eyes but you furiously wipe them away because while you don’t mind crying, you do mind crying if you don’t know why.

And fuck, there’s that voice again, your name echoing over and over again until it’s growing lowder and ringing in your ears. You think you might start crying again until the voice sounds familiar and you’re whipping your head up and standing straight when you see a car pull up to the curb next to you.

“Fuck my life,” you mumble to yourself when you see Minghao in the driver’s seat of the car. He rolls down the window and god, he looks so pretty with his hair back and upper body fit into a loose yellow shirt.

“Hey, what are you doing?” he asks you, brows pinched into a concerned expression as he looks at you, face flushed and sheen from sweat.

“I—” You’re about to smile at him and let the giddiness of having your crush talk to you take over, but then the words get caught in your throat when you remember the whole reason you’re out here. “—I’m just going on a walk.”

“In this heat?” He raises a brow at you. “Where to? Let me give you a ride. You don’t look too well.”

“Nowhere really,” you say with a shrug. “Actually, I might just head back home,” you rush out, turning on your heel to walk in the other direction so Minghao can’t pry any further, but he stops you.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he calls out, and you don’t have the willpower to ignore him. “Let me drive you home then. Seriously, you don’t look well—like you look like you’re ‘bout to pass out and shit—so just get in the car, please?” He says the last part with some sort of beggary etched onto his face and you just can’t deny him. Not now, not ever.

Pulling the door open, your limbs feel heavy as you climb into the car, air much cooler and fresher than outside. Leaning your head against the headrest, you let your eyes flutter shut as Minghao starts the car.

“Are you seriously okay? You look—”

“Sick, I know. I look sick,” your grumble, eyes still shut. You wonder if you should tell him Jun just told you everything.

“I’m sorry,” and you can tell from the way his voice doesn’t waver that he means it.

“Jun told me about Korea.”

“Oh.” Yeah, very big oh. “Just now?” You nod. “Is that why you were out here?” You nod again, finally opening your eyes.

“Hey, this isn’t the way to my house.”

Minghao keeps his eyes on the road. “C’mon, let’s get some pop,” he says, ignoring your statement and driving into the parking lot of a convenience store. He unbuckles his seatbelt and hops out his end, not saying a word, and you figure that you have no other choice but to follow.

Any other situation and you’d be grinning about spending some time alone with Minghao, but after hearing Jun tell you that he’s going to be traveling hundreds of miles and flying over borders within the next two months has your stomach churning in a way you don’t like.

You don’t know if you want to spend all the hours of the day with Jun and Minghao, or if you want to crawl up in your bed and pretend they don’t exist so it’ll hurt less when they’re gone. You feel stupid for thinking like this—you know it’s going to hurt either way.

You’re lost in your own thoughts as you walk into the store after Minghao, only snapped back into the present when he says something to you. “Hey, those are your jeans that you wore when we first did karaoke right?’

You blink once and then twice before looking down at your pants. They were those same jeans. “Yeah, how’d you know?” you ask him incredulously, and Minghao chuckles as he reaches into the cooler and pulls out a pink popsicle.

“I remember the flowers and how they matched your pink jacket. It was cute,” he says casually, and you hope he doesn’t catch onto the way your fingers twiddle together nervously and you avert your gaze. “Anyways, you like Cola right?” he clarifies when reaching into the drink fridge near the cooler. You nod shyly, thanking him quietly when he hands you a can.

As you make your way to the cash register, you fish around in your pockets for a few moments hoping you’ll dig up a dollar bill or something but then Minghao’s hand is on your wrist and he shakes his head with a smile.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll cover it.” He turns back so quickly you don’t have time to protest because he’s already sticking his card into the machine, throwing the cashier a thumbs up and walking out the store without a word.

“I could’ve paid for myself, y’know,” you grumble, following behind Minghao, watching to see where he’s headed. You think he’s going to get back into his car, but instead he plops down on the street curb, sitting on the ground. You just look at him for a few moments, contemplating what to do for a few moments before joining his side.

“Yeah, but I wanted to pay for it.”

The sun is bright and it beads down on you relentlessly, but you don’t complain. You both sit in silence as you both tend to your snacks—Minghao tries to lap up his popsicle quickly now that you’re out in the heat and you try to drink as much of your Cola as you can before it grows lukewarm. The air grows thick between you.

You can’t find the right words to say. You suppose there aren’t any right words or any wrong words, and that you can say just about anything right now and it wouldn’t matter.

Glancing at Minghao who takes a lick of his pink popsicle, you feel that uneasy feeling swarm inside of your chest.

You could kiss him right now. You could press your mouth against his sticky lips and lap at the sugar against his tongue. You could hold his face and run your fingers through his hair and cradle the nape of his neck. You could do anything right now and it wouldn’t matter.

Minghao, after all, was leaving.

But you’re scared and Minghao is mature and his dreams are big and he’s brave.

Your eyes linger on his plush lips for no longer than a second before you shamefully look down at the Cola in your hands, suddenly feeling sick to your stomach.

“You’ll remember this place, right? Like—if you get big and famous and stuff, you two won’t forget, right?” you resort to asking. You say ‘this place,’ but really, you mean ‘me.’ You don’t want to be forgotten.

Minghao watches you with his eyes clouded with something you can’t really make out. “Of course we won’t. We’ll remember forever.” Absentmindedly, you trace figure-eights into the top of your can of pop, and Minghao catches the motion.

Using his own finger, he traces the figure of the number eight over the cement of the curb. “See. Like infinity, y’know?”

You purse your lips together and nod, your mind going dizzy. “Can we … can we go?” you mumble softly, gripping the can in your hand. “I think the heat kinda got to me.” It’s not entirely a lie.

Minghao doesn’t question you, polishing off his popsicle and tossing it into the trash before unlocking the door so you can take the silent ride home.

Jun and Minghao flew out two months ago. You went with your family and Minghao’s family to bid goodbyes. It’s not like you wouldn’t see them again—give or take a few months and Jun would be back at home, but he’d have to leave again. And again. And again.

It’s sad, you think, as you slump against Yiren on some random person’s couch. You miss them so much, but when you think about Jun and Minghao, all you can see is the hard work they’ve put into going where they’re headed.

You feel selfish as you bring a cup up to your lips. You feel pathetic and lame and if you weren’t already drunk, you’d be wallowing in self pity as well. The alcohol tastes just as bitter as your feelings, and while you wince when you gulp it down, you don’t hesitate to let some more run down your throat.

Yiren watches you worriedly when you clutch her arm and shut your eyes tight. “I miss them,” you whisper, and she doesn’t know if you’re talking to her or to yourself. She strokes your hair and coos to you about taking you to lie down somewhere.

Your head spins as she helps you stand, letting the cup fall to the ground, not bothering to pick it up. Yiren pulls you into an empty bedroom and sits you on the bed. “Drink this,” she instructs, handing you a bottle of water.

“Yiren, I miss them,” you repeat yourself.

“I know, I know you do. Do you want to go home? I’ll drive you and—”

“No, you go have fun. I just need to sit down for a sec,” you tell her, letting your back fall onto the mattress. Yiren gives you a warning look, but you shoo her off. “Trust me, I’ll be fine. I’ll call you if I need anything.” She looks like she wants to protest, but you both know you’re on a one track mind right now.

“Please don’t do anything stupid,” Yiren begs as she walks away and closes the door behind her. You’re still dizzy, but not nearly as bad as before. Sitting up, you glance around the room. It’s simple—probably a guest room in whoever’s house this is. Also probably why the door was unlocked in the first place.

You feel you might pass out until your eyes land on an open notebook on a table in the corner of the room. You don’t think twice before standing up and ripping a sheet out, scrambling for a pen.

DEAR MINGHAO

I’m drunk right now. I miss you and I miss Jun. I hope when you guys come back again, we can go to that karaoke place again and sing to Radiohead. I’ve expanded my taste you know—my favorite song is Fake Plastic Trees now, and I even got a record player just so I could play the vinyl for it. Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.

When you come back, we should really go there again. Yiren’s been getting really tired of me singing Creep every time, so I need a new duo partner. And she’s leaving too, so there’s that.

I really want to kiss you right now, but you’re in Korea.

I miss Jun a lot too. I think I hate you for it. He’s my brother but somehow you get to see him more and talk to him more and be with him more. Sometimes I call him and it’s for less than five minutes and I hear your voice in the background and I don’t know if I want to listen to you speak forever or strangle you so you can never talk again. I get that Jun is busy, and that you’re busy, but you guys get to be busy together.

Yiren told me she’s probably going to go to college out of the country next year. I’m going to miss her like hell. I think I already miss her, and so I drag her to karaoke with me so she won’t ever forget about me and Radiohead and how garbage I am at singing Creep.

Jun says he’s going to come visit home in two months, and that you might come along. I didn’t know home was a place you only visit, but I guess being an idol changes you. I probably sound super bitter right now. I’m not. Maybe I’m upset that you guys are gone, but I really am happy for you.Jun is happy, and you’re happy, and I’m so happy you have each other.

It’s hard to focus on your exam—halfway through your degree and you still get the jitters every time you step into the testing hall. It’s probably the nerves. And the caffeine. And the fact that you’ll be seeing your brother and Minghao in three hours.

It’s mainly the third that has your leg bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet as you jot down your answers. The exam takes longer than you’d like to finish, but as soon as you’ve finished the final question, you’re bolting out of the large room and toward the parking lot.

Connecting your phone to your car, you call Jun as you back out of the parking spot. “Hey, you guys at the airport?” you ask when you hear him pick up.

“Yeah, we’re just getting out right now but there’s kind of a crowd so it might take a while to just get to the car.”

“I forgot you guys are, like, famous,” you mutter jokingly. “Where’re you headed first? Minghao’s place first?”

“Yeah probably. He’s gonna see his parents and stuff first and then I’ll go to Mom and Dad’s house, so you can just come there.”

“Okay … we’re still good for our dinner plans, right?”

“Yeah, actually I was wondering if Minghao could tag along,” Jun says, and you can hear some muffled shouting from the other side.

“Oh okay, yeah su—”

“Hey, look, there’s a lot of people here and I can’t hear much so just text me your response and I’ll get to you in a second,” Jun tells you quickly as the shouting grows louder. He hangs up soon after and you sigh heavily as you start driving to your parents house.

The ride is quiet but you’re happy to be met with gleeful parents when you get to their place. You’re all a bit spirited at the prospect of Jun coming home, so when you hear the old ringing of the door bell, you’re bolting to the door and swinging it open, jumping into his arms.

“What happened to ‘hi,’ ‘hello,’ ‘how are you?’” Jun teases as he hugs you close, awkwardly trying to shuffle into the house. You poke your tongue out at him when you finally unwind your arms from around him.

“Hi. Hello. How are you? You seem obnoxious, as always,” you shoot back, and Jun only grins, pinching your cheek tightly.

“Oh how I missed my little insane sister,” he says before moving onto your parents, enveloping them in hugs as you all begin to settle down in the living room. The four of you spend a few hours catching up with Jun before he excuses himself to freshen up so he can get ready for your plans for the evening.

When he comes back all ready, you’re pulling out your keys from your purse and waving bye to your parents, promising them you’ll stop by the next morning as you and your brother make your way to the door.

“See you later!” Jun calls out before closing the front door behind him and following you to your car. Minghao’s house is close by, no more than a five minute drive, and it’s quiet as you take the familiar roads through the town to get there.

“Should we go in?” you ask when you park in Minghao’s driveway. “You haven’t seen his parents in a while, have you?”

“Oh yeah, you’re right. C’mon, let’s go.” You both slip out of the car and make your way to the front door. Minghao’s mother opens the door and you spend a few minutes exchanging greetings and catching up before Minghao is stepping out, clad in some black jeans and a grey hoodie.

He smiles when he sees you, pulling you into a hug, giving you a chance to feel the slightly damp hair against your cheek and the woody smell that always reminds you of him. “Hey, how’s it been?” he asks when he pulls away.

“I-I’m good,” you say shyly.

“Let’s talk more in the car, yeah?” Jun suggests, turning back to Minghao’s parents to give them a hug before you all wave your goodbyes and get into your car.

“Where’re we headed?” Jun asks, as you back out of the driveway. Jun sits in the passenger seat while Minghao slips into the back.

“It’s this new place—opened just a few months ago so I doubt you’d have gone there yet,” you tell him as you start driving.

“Is it the place next to the cafe?” Minghao asks you, and you nod excitedly.

“Yeah … how’d you know?”

“My mom told me about it, and said I should try it out. I guess now’s my chance, huh.”

“Yeah! It’s really good, I hope you both like it,” you say, reaching over to the AUX controls to flick on one of your playlists. “Okay guys … are you ready?” you warn, watching Minghao’s eyes brighten through the mirror.

“Oh my god, don’t tell me you guys are going to sign Creep again—” Jun starts to groan, but you reach over and press a finger over his lips to shut him up.

“Quiet,” Minghao hisses to his friend, scooting forward in his seat so you’re in his view, placing his hands under your headrest. His fingers brush against the back of your neck and you’re scared you might crash the car from the way his touch makes you shiver. Fuck, more than half a damn decade and you still can’t fight it off. “Turn it up,” he instructs from behind, and you can only grin as you reach over and pump up the volume.

The deep rumble of snare and guitar echoes through the car as the song starts and you already feel your heart begin to swell in your chest. So when the first lines of, ‘when you were here before,’ leave your lips, you aren’t sure if you feel your heart mending itself, or if it’s salt being poured on the wound.

Because from behind you is Minghao’s voice, so deep and velvety and angelic it has you almost in a trance. He’s been good at singing, always, but now his voice sounds … mature, and developed and … and you love it.

You think back to the first time you sang Creep with him, and the lyrics already have you reminiscing when you both sing, ‘couldn’t look you in the eye,’ because goddammit you still struggle to look at Minghao for too long because you’re scared you’ll get lost.

And when it gets to the part before the bass is blaring in your ears, Minghao and you are singing, ‘I wish I was special, you’re so fuckin’ special,’ at the top of your lungs and you can’t help but let the irony sink in.

Now you’re pretty sure when Thom wrote Creep, he didn’t mean it to be about your love life, especially not the non-existent one between you and your brother’s best friend, but Thom is speaking to you right now, and you wonder if Minghao can hear the way you’re singing from your heart. How you’re singing for him.

When the song comes to an end, Minghao’s fingers brush over the nape of your neck one last time before he retreats back into his seat. You try to not mull on the feeling any longer, shaking your head of all of those thoughts when you near the restaurant.

“Here it is!” you chirp, parking the car on the curb. The three of you shuffle out of the car casually, making your way to the entrance.

“Looks nice,” Minghao comments as he opens the door for you and Jun. Your brother hops in merrily and you and Minghao both share a soft smile as you go inside too, your body nearly jerking when you feel his hand on the small of your back as he follows behind you.

His touch is warm and gentle and—fuck, does he know what he’s doing to you right now?

You’re more relieved than anything when he finally lets his arm drop, the three of you making your way to the table you booked. You were scared that if Minghao stayed close any longer, he’d be able to feel your heart beating through your chest.

You guys sit down at the table, Jun next to you while Minghao settles across the two of you. “So how’s your classes going?” he asks you as you look through the menu. “Jun said you had an exam today, right?”

“Yeah, it was my final one,” you tell him with a sigh of relief. “It was stressful preparing for it but it went better than I thought.”

“Good to hear,” Minghao says as a waiter comes along to pick up on your orders. After he leaves, Jun turns to you.

“What’s Yiren up to?” Jun asks you curiously. “Haven’t seen that girl in ages.”

“She’s, uh, she’s good,” you reply. “I haven’t seen her in a while either … she went off to college in Korea, remember?”

Minghao chuckles, “Seems like everyone’s going there, huh? Maybe you should pull up too.”

You scrunch up your face and shake your head while you take a sip of water. “I think I like this place too much to leave. Plus, who’s going to take care of our old folks if I leave too?” you tease, nudging your brother in the side.

“Mom and Dad can take care of themselves just fine,” Jun shrugs, ruffling your hair as the waiter brings along some food.

“Looks good,” Minghao says, holding up some chopsticks as you all look down at the sizzling dishes in front of you.

“It is! See?” you say pointedly, looking up at Jun. “Imagine I moved to Korea—I wouldn’t be able to eat this.” Your brother only rolls his eyes and Minghao and you laugh together while you dig in.

As you work through your meal and catch each other up on your lives, Minghao eventually leans back in his seat and sighs heavily. “I’m really craving something sweet right now.”

“I’d say we should pick up some pastries from the cafe next door but they closed two hours ago,” you say sadly.

“Oh shit, I forgot about that place. They made the best chocolate buns ever,” Jun mutters to himself, polishing off his plate.

“Let’s go to the cafe tomorrow evening, yeah?” Minghao suggests as he takes a sip of water. At the suggestion, you chew at your lip.

“Uh, I don’t think I can go then,” you say, hoping they won’t pry any further.

Of course, your brother doesn’t allow you a second of peace. “Why not? Your last exam was today, right?”

“Yeah, but I have stuff to do,” you reply nonchalantly. Jun scoffs and tugs your ear, causing you to whine. “What was that for?!”

“You didn’t clear your schedule out for me? I thought you missed me! You know I have to leave in like a week,” he complains, and you and Minghao share an amused look as you nudge Jun on the side.

“Relax, you can have me in the morning and afternoon and everything … I just have to go somewhere for the evening.”

“You’re being really ominous about this, you know,” Jun retorts, crossing his arms over his chest. “Where’re you going?”

You chew on your tongue, contemplating if this is the right moment to bring it up, or if you should even tell Jun and Minghao this at all. “I just have to see someone.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Jun groans. “You’re literally asking me to pry. Tell me who—a boyfriend?” You chuckle nervously, eyes flickering between Minghao and your brother, shaking your head.

“No—not a boyfriend,” you say dryly, scoffing at the irony. “Remember Renjun? I told you about him when I was in freshman year.”

“Vaguely. Remind me who he is again?”

“He’s just a guy, and he has some of my stuff I need to pick up.” Both Minghao and Jun cock an eyebrow at you after that. “What?” you huff, leaning back in your seat.

“An ex?” Minghao asks and your face burns.

“I—yeah,” you say casually. “An ex.”

Jun frowns deeply. “I didn’t know you and Renjun ever dated. I didn’t even know you ever had a boyfriend,” he says, voice evidently upset that he was left out of this.

“It wasn’t that serious,” you pat his shoulder as to soften the blow. “Plus it happened when you were on tour—we hardly talked then.”

“Still! You could’ve told me!” You bite back a, ‘But could I really?’ because this isn’t the time or place for that.

“It’s whatever. I just need to pick up some stuff I left at his place and—”

“So it ended pretty recently then?” Minghao piques, and your eyebrows furrow, slightly annoyed by both of their belated interest in your love life.

“What, no! It’s been months and—wait, I don’t see how that’s any of your guys’ business,” you huff and Minghao backs off a little, but Jun still stays curiously leaning in.

“Whatever. You’ll be available to come with us to the lake on Friday though, right?” Jun asks, pulling out his phone and holding it up to your face to show you a picture of a lake house. “I booked a place to stay the night and all.”

“Of course I’m going to come—I’ve been looking forward to it!”

“Good,” Jun says gruffly, still somewhat glaring at you.

You give him a funny look. “What?”

“I’m still mad you never told me—you’re supposed to tell me this stuff! How else am I supposed to know that you’re doing fine on your own and actually growing up.”

“Oh my god, Jun, I’m an adult! Did you think I would never have boyfriends?”

“No! At least not without telling me!”

You chuckle and Minghao follows in suit, enjoying the little sibling bicker. “Okay fine. I’m sure I’ll be telling you every detail of my love life when it gets resurrected.”

Minghao snorts at your use of words, and you revel in the way the sound makes you feel. Fuck it, it’s been more than half a decade and you still get butterflies—you can’t fight away the feeling, so you might as well wallow in it.

You wonder what Jun would think about this—your love life being pulled and shaken by his own best friend. Oh well, some secrets are best kept hidden anyways.

“Here’s your stuff,” Renjun says softly, handing you a paper bag that’s stuffed with a wide array of your belongings.

“Thank you. Is my pink jacket in there? I’ve been looking for it for a while and I didn’t know if I left it at yours,” you ask timidly, holding the paper bag close to your chest.

He scratches the back of his head as he steps back, nodding. “Uh, yeah I think it’s at the bottom.” You peer down at the contents of your back, and give a half smile when you see the pink cloth peeking out from underneath.

“Thanks for taking care of my stuff. I know you’ve basically moved out and all.”

“No worries. Do you, uh, need a ride home or anything? It’s pretty cold.”

You purse your lips at the offer, but shake your head. “It’s fine …” There’s an awkward silence and you quickly wonder if you should say anything more. Renjun looks awfully … apologetic right now and you feel there’s some more you can say. “How’s your new place? Have you seen it?”

“Yeah, I flew up there a few weeks back to get some of my main stuff shipped. A nice apartment, way bigger than whatever I had here,” he says with an awkward chuckle. You appreciate the effort.

Nodding, you tighten your grip on the bag. “That’s good to hear. I hope it all goes well with you. I … I think I’ll be taking my leave now. My brother’s back in town so …”

“Oh yeah, I heard from Jianing. Hope you’re having a good time—I know you haven’t seen him in ages.”

“Thank you. Anyways, I’m gonna get going now. Thanks again,” you say as you step back, throwing out a small wave.

A half-hearted, “See you,” leaves Renjun’s lips as you turn on your heel and start walking back to the bus station. There’s no promise of seeing Renjun later, or ever again, and something cold sinks in your stomach at the thought.

The thought that this all could’ve been avoided if Renjun hadn’t gotten that stupid job offer hundreds of miles away. If he didn’t decide to pack his bags and fly away just like Jun, like Yiren, like Minghao. Renjun was leaving, just like everyone else.

You clutch the paper bag close to your chest as you make your way to the bus stop, one hand fumbling in the pocket of your jacket as you search for your wallet and within seconds you’re a frantic mess. “Shit,” you mutter under your breath. “Shit, shit, shit!” you cry out when you drop your bag and pat frantically over your pockets to try and feel for your wallet.

Your digging into every crook of the coat and there’s a growing feeling of dread that washes over you once you realize that you lost your fucking wallet. Hands clenched at your side, you feel hot tears well up in your lash line as you stare down at the ground, letting in the shitty events of today sink in.

You don’t even know why you’re crying now. It’s hardly even cries, really, you’re downright sobbing as you plop down on the curb of the empty street, fumbling with your phone as you pull up Jun’s contact. Pressing the phone to your ear, you shut your eyes tight in an attempt to calm down your breath, but when you hear the line go dead you cry even harder, realizing that Jun is probably napping right now.

“Fuck my life,” you complain to yourself, letting your head hang low as you scroll through your phone. You aren’t even sure what compels you to click on him but before you know it you’re on speaker as you hear the buzzing of the phone as you wait for Minghao to pick up.

One ring. Maybe he’s busy.

Two rings. He might be looking for his phone.

Three rings. He probably won’t pick up.

Four rings, and you’re about to hang up but then it stops. “Minghao?”

Minghao’s voice is cool and calm when he says your name. “Do you—”

“I need your help,” you say so quietly you aren’t sure if he’ll be able to hear it. And then Minghao hears it: your soft pants and shaky breath and something about the sound has him squeezing his phone tightly.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m—” No, I feel like shit and I’m freezing my ass off and it’s so cold and I need you to help me. “Can you pick me up? I lost my wallet which has my bus card. I’m sorry, I know it’s a little late and you’re probably busy but—”

“Send me your location.”

Minghao is pulling up in his black car within twenty minutes and by then you’ve had enough time to wipe the tears from your face and piece together yourself to look presentable. Rolling down the windows as you wave over to his car, you hear the doors click and you’re roughly yanking on the door and throwing your stuff and yourself in.

Minghao raises a brow at your ruckus, asking once again, “Are you okay?” When you only sigh heavily, buckling yourself up, you hope Minghao will just leave it alone. You’d rather not talk about the stupid breakdown you just had in front of your childhood crush.

Minghao clearly doesn’t get the message, so when he starts the engine again, he murmurs, “Have you been crying?” You purse your lips together tightly as if the question itself as the tears bubbling up to the surface once again. “Did meeting with Renjun not go well?” You’re surprised he remembers his name—Minghao was never great with names. “Can you say something? I’m worried.”

“Sorry,” you say softly, letting your shoulder drop down, and from the corner of your vision you see Minghao watching you carefully. “I-I just got overwhelmed. And it was cold. Really cold. And then—” You take a shaky breath. “—and I lost my fucking wallet on top of it and it’s all so shitty and—”

His hand is on your shoulder and you hardly realize that Minghao has pulled over and parked so he can turn to face you. You’re crying again and you don’t even know how this fucking happened, all you know is that there’s so much going on in your head and Minghao is right there, he’s so close but then again, he’s so far.

“Hey, hey calm down for a sec’,” he says calmly, gripping your arm firmly. “Breathe slowly, and tell me what happened.”

You inhale sharply through your nose and scrunch your face up as you bury your head in your hands. In your right mind, you wouldn’t even think about telling Minghao about what’s on your mind but it’s been a really terrible past hour and you can’t control yourself.

“Renjun’s leaving. Didn’t want to do long distance and so he’s gone and—fuck, I don’t even blame him but why’d he have to leave,” you ramble, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as Minghao pats your back gently.

“Did he say something to you when you met with him?” he asked, tone laced with concern. “I’m sorry, I’m just—are you o—okay please don’t cry.”

You don’t know why, but Minghao telling you to cry only makes the tears fall faster. “And Yiren—” you hiccup, “Yiren left too, I haven’t seen her in months and Jun a-a-and you—you’ve all been gone.” You don’t realize when Minghao grabs both your shoulders and forces you to face him completely.

“Slow down, please. No one’s left you, we’re all going to be here for you, you know that. Did Renjun say something which made you think like this?” he asks, the grip on your shaking shoulders growing tighter as you desperately try to steady yourself.

“N-no, but you’re not here. I hardly ever get to see my own brother and Yiren and you and Renjun and everything is so shitty I just—” you cry out and suddenly you stumble forward in the seat and before you know it Minghao’s arms are around you.

It’s not like you haven’t hugged him before but this is the first time you’re blubbering into his shoulder about your feelings, and if you weren’t so sad, you’d be fucking appalled. His warm hand is on your back, rubbing up and down slowly until you’ve finally found the conscience to actually breathe and realize just what’s going on.

Slowly, you pull away from Minghao’s hold, furiously wiping away at your face to dry yourself, looking down at your lap bashfully. “I am so sorry, what the fuck, I-I don’t know what came over me,” you blurt out when Minghao drops his hands from your shoulder. You miss the warmth, but you’re quite very embarrassed with yourself and don’t have the will to chase after his touch.

“Please don’t apologize,” Minghao replies softly, watching you with wide eyes. “That … was a lot and—”

“I’m sorry, look, I was just having a shitty day and it all piled up and you just—I don’t know I guess, let’s just pretend this never happened,” you beg with him. Minghao’s face looks like he wants to say more, but you really can’t tell with the way his eyes are clouded.

“Are you sure? You know you can talk to me.”

You gulp at the irony. No, you really can’t. You can’t tell Minghao anything, really, because even after crying and sobbing and wailing in his car he still looks at you with so much care and it has these stupid fucking butterflies erupting in your stomach like you’re fifiteen with a massive crush on your brother’s best friend.

“Can you just please drive me to my place?” you ask, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “I think I just really need to sleep.”

You can tell Minghao still has questions, but you don’t seem too willing to answer them so he doesn’t say anything when he nods and turns back to the road. The ride is silent, and when he finally parks he pats your shoulder.

You look out the window and furrow your eyebrows. “This isn’t my apartment complex …” you tell him, confused as you see a convenience store in front of you. The same one.

“C’mon, I know you love pop,” he says casually, unbuckling his seatbelt leaving you with no other choice to follow behind him. There’s an odd sense of deja vu that envelopes over you, shoving your pockets into your jacket shyly.

“Remember the last time we were here?” Minghao asks with a chuckle as you guys walk into the store.

“Don’t remind me,” you murmur. “That was a shitty day.”

Minghao gives you a nervous smile as he pulls out a can from the fridge and hands it to you, grabbing his own bottle as well. “Yeah, but Cola made it better, right?”

“I guess it did. Cola always makes things better,” you admit. “Hey, fuck you,” you say jokingly when Minghao pulls out his wallet. “You should’ve taken me here another time when I actually had my wallet—I need to pay you back for that day!” you whine with a pout. “Now I’m in debt to you twice! You’ve bought me two Colas!”

Minghao rolls his eyes playfully as he pays for the drinks. “Yeah well things are different now, and I’m pretty sure my wallet doesn’t care about the cost of two Colas.”

“Is Mr. Big and Famous too good for my money now?” you huff when you step back outside, opening your Cola. “I will pay you back, no matter how stupidly rich you get.”

“I’ll have to hold you to that,” Minghao laughs as you slip back into his car. The air is lighter as he drives you back to your place for real this time, and the lingering feeling of pop on your tongue is sweet and fun.

“Thank you for the ride. And the Cola,” you add when he’s in front of your building.

“You remember what I said?”

You nod as you step out of the car, picking up your brown bag. “Thank you so much for this. I’m sorry again.”

“Stop apologizing. Is there … is there anything else I can do? You want another Cola perhaps?”

“Very funny, but I don’t think I want to be jumping off the walls tonight …” you answer, closing the door but still peering through the open window. You think for a second as you chew your lip, nodding when you come up with something. “But do me a favor … don’t tell Jun.”

Jun takes you out to the lake house he booked three mornings after you met with Renjun and sobbed to Minghao in his car. It’s a refreshing turn of events, if you’re being honest, and you’re eager to sink into a relaxing weekend after a stressful exam season.

Your brother drives the three hours on the way with the promise of you driving on the way home hung over your head. When you reach the house—a medium sized cabin perched right by the lake and surrounded by trees and mountains—you’re greeted with the sight of Minghao sitting in his car and scrolling on his phone.

As you and Jun pile out of the car and grab your bags, Minghao comes out too, walking toward you with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Thought you guys would never come. If you were gonna be late you should’ve just given me the keys to this place,” he says with a huff.

“Don’t blame me,” Jun shrugs, locking the car after you’ve both taken out your stuff, walking up to the cabin’s entrance. “She’s the one who wanted to stop and buy some pop.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t want it either,” you retort, reaching into your tote bag to hand Minghao a can of Cola. “Here,” you offer with a smile which he returns gleefully.

“Okay actually, totally valid reason,” Minghao says, flicking open the can before taking a sip.

“Hey! Don’t be on her side,” Jun whines as he opens up the cabin. Minghao and you chuckle together, your heart warming at the sound as you three start to load your things into the house. Minghao doesn’t say anything about that night when he picked you up, and for that much you’re grateful. This much, you can manage.

By the time you all have settled your things into your respective rooms it’s noon and the sun pummels down with admirable strength. As you stick your head out of your room, you catch Jun making his way down the hallway toward the bathroom.

“You going for a swim?” you ask, gesturing down to your swimsuit that you’ve already eagerly put on.

“Nah, I’m gonna go later. I need to take a call right now,” he says with a sigh and you nod, about to retreat back to your room before Minghao walks out of his own room.

“I’ll go if you’re going,” Minghao tells you casually, and you don’t waste a second to nod. “Give me five so I can get changed and then we can go out.”

You jump down the hall excitedly after he closes the door behind him, making your way to the backyard porch which leads into a deck over the lake. As you place your towel on one of the chairs outside, you hear the sliding door open.

Minghao walks out shirtless, lower half only covered with his swim trunks as he runs a hand through his shaggy hair, shaking his head lightly as he makes his way towards you, placing his towel next to yours. “Thanks for waiting … shit, it’s hot as hell,” he murmurs, and you’re thankful that you’re facing away from him right now—you aren’t sure you’d be able to handle the proximity and the sight of his bare upper body.

“Yeah,” you agree, finally straightening your back and putting some distance between the two of you when you start walking towards the edge of the deck. “The water’s so clear,” you think out loud, looking down at the blue lake in front of you.

“It’s really pretty … you want a picture?” Minghao suggests, walking up behind you.

“I would, but I left my phone inside.”

“Let’s just take it on my phone,” he says casually, holding up his phone in front of you, waving at you to step back a little so he can take a picture. “A candid one would look pretty with this view—like you’re looking out at the lake and stuff,” he begins to say, placing a smooth hand on your shoulder so he can manually turn you around so that you’re facing away from him.

When he lets his hand drop, it brushes over the curve of your hip and you have to bite down on your lip to stop the pathetic whimper that threatens to escape your lips. Luckily, Minghao can’t see the pained expression that makes its way onto your face as he steps back holding up his phone.

“Okay ready …” he calls out from further behind. “Three … two … one!” You hear a faint tapping sound as you still, letting Minghao take the pictures as you wait patiently. It takes a few moments, and you’re about to ask him how much longer he’s going to go at it before you hear the sound of something being dropped, and then a few rattling thuds.

“Minghao, what—” you begin to question as you slowly turn on your heel but by then it’s too late. “WHAT THE F—”

Your scream is cut off short when Minghao runs forward and lunges at you, one arm wrapping itself around your waist as he jumps into the water, bringing you down with him. The cool water of the lake hits your body and the wind gets punched out of your lungs as you feel your limbs entangle with his. Instinctevely, your arms tighten around one of his as your eyes press closed tightly as you feel your warm body start to level with the temperature around you.

And so even as your legs kick around for a few panicked moments, you begin to feel oddly at peace when your head finally reaches the surface of the water, Minghao’s hand still steady over your hips as you gasp for air.

“You’re a bitch for that,” you say, a few choked giggles escaping your lips as you do. Minghao finally unwinds his arm from yours, and while you miss the contact, his body is still dangerously close to yours, and you figure that that is already more than you can manage.

Minghao smiles gleefully, pushing his face so close that it’s right up in front of you. “Mm maybe, but it was really funny. Got it on video too.”

“What?!” you screech, swimming backward so quickly that you hit  your head on the wooden platform of the deck. “Crap!” you exclaim, hand immediately flying up to press against the throbbing crown of your head. Minghao’s eyes widen with concern as he wades his way towards you, tall enough to still have his feet touch the lake bottom unlike you.

“Shit, I’m sorry, are you okay?” he asks worriedly, his own hand coming up to feel the back of your head. His eyes are big and brown as he looks down at you, and for this moment, you forget about the dull ache and bask in the way the sun hits his skin so perfectly he glows.

“I’m fine!” you squeak quickly, letting your hand drop so you can tread in the water lightly, slowly moving a safe distance away from the deck.

“A-are you sure?” he probes, making his way to you, and you have a moment to admire him from afar—the way his hair is matted against his forehead and water drops gather at his lashes, making his eyes look prettier than ever.

You chuckle at the way his lips are pursed together apologetically, and you splash some water at him to lighten the mood. “Yes, Minghao, I’m great. I hardly hit myself.” Minghao’s face looks uneasy, and you laugh again.

It takes a few more minutes of you trying to convince him that you’re totally fine before he finally lets it go. Eventually, you find yourself on a big inflated duck-shaped floaty, laying down with your face up and eyes closed. You lose track of time, enjoying the white noise of Minghao splashing around in the water around you, drifting off into a hazy state until you hear a loud yell and feel yourself being flipped over and off your floaty.

“Jun!” you whine, rubbing your eyes as you furiously push hair off your face when you resurface, glaring at both Jun and Minghao laugh side by side. “You guys have to stop doing this to me,” you groan, eyes finally adjusting to its normal state.

“What are you talking about?” Jun asks innocently as you make your way over to the two of them, not bothering to turn your duck floatie back up right. “It was just an accident I fell on you—hey!” he yells out when you lunge at him. Minghao steps back quickly as you and Jun waddle and fight in the water, splashing water at each other while you try and get your revenge.

“Okay! Okay! I’m sorry,” Jun admits with a pout. “You didn’t do this to Minghao after he dunked you in the water,” he complains as you release him.

You narrow your eyes. “How do you know about that?”

“He sent me the video.”

“Minghao!” you exclaim, turning to the boy who is now treading around a meter in front of you. He only shrugs and grins cheekily.

“It was really funny,” Jun tells you with a laugh. “I might just post it on my story.”

“Oh my god, don’t you dare.”

Jun only shakes his head and starts slowly swimming further into the lake. “Don’t worry—I wouldn’t do that. Minghao can’t have any dating rumors, now can he?”

You chew on your lip, not responding. Minghao doesn’t say anything either, only chuckling along with your brother as he follows after him. You aren’t sure what to say to that, and the comment leaves some uneasy feeling hanging in your stomach.

Fuck, maybe you did hit your head hard.

You three spend a good few hours out in the lake until it’s evening. It’s a slow day and you start to realize just how much you missed spending time with your brother and Minghao like this—it isn’t often they get the opportunity to do things like this, so you’re grateful that they decided to share some of their few days of peace with you.

The second day is even hotter than the first, and you wake from your sleep early in the morning when the sky is still blooming with purple and orange hues. Crawling out from your bed, you make your way downstairs. If it was just you and your brother, you wouldn’t be so mindful about keeping your noise levels down because god knows that Jun can sleep through just about anything, but, Minghao is with you guys now, and you’d hate to sour his experience even just a little by accidentally waking him up for being too loud.

So you can imagine your surprise when you walk into the kitchen to see Minghao already leaning against the counter as he scrolls through his phone. He hasn’t noticed you and you contemplate leaving it like that for a few moments.

He’s wearing a tight fit, black, sleeveless top that shows off the curve of his shoulders and lets the sparkle of his silver chain glint under the morning light. Minghao is attractive—you and the millions of people in his comments know that—and you feel an odd sense of pride well up in your stomach that you’re one of the few people who get to see him like this.

With his hair messy and brushing over his eyes, legs crossed over each other as he presses his body weight against the kitchen island, bare skin glowing from the natural light, he’s beautiful.

Your face heats up when you realize you’ve just been staring at him, so you quickly clear your throat. “Good morning,” you chirp, walking into the kitchen so he can finally see you.

Minghao looks up from his phone, tucking it into the pocket of his sweatpants to greet you with a smile. “Hey, I didn’t know you were up. How’s your head doing?” he asks shyly, walking over to casually run his hand over that same spot on the crown of your head.

It’s an oddly intimate gesture, and if you didn’t know any better, your heart might have given out from the way he was touching you. Still, you know he’s just checking to see if it’s swollen, but your heart flutters anyways.

“I-it’s fine,” you reply, opening the fridge to pull out some orange juice as his hand drops. “I didn’t know you were an early riser. Jun always sleeps in whenever he gets the chance.”

“Yeah, well that’s why he’s paged as a literal cat by everyone,” Minghao says with a chuckle as you place a jug on the counter. “Do you want some tea? I’m just boiling the water now so I can add some more if you want.”

“Sure, that’ll be nice.” You pour yourself some orange juice. “Do you want to eat something? I brought some cupcakes to have for breakfast,” you offer, reaching into one of the bags you didn’t unpack to pull out a box.

“Are they those cupcakes?”

“Yup—the one and only!” you exclaim, opening the lid to show him. Minghao grins, pulling two out.

“God, I missed these. Y’know, Jun actually gave your recipe to Mingyu too, but he just doesn’t make them the same,” Minghao tells you, and your eyes light up.

“Really? Poor Mingyu,” you say with a sigh.

“If you ever end up visiting us in Korea, you should really make some,” Minghao suggests as he goes to take care of the boiling water, dropping some tea leaves into it before moving the water into a pot. Then, pulling out two small cups and plates, he says, “Me and Jun have told the others about how good you make them, but they really need to try them.”

“I’d love to,” you say with a grin, giddy with the way Minghao is boosting your ego. As he pours out the tea into two mugs, you put the cupcakes on the small plates, looking out to the glass sliding door which leads to the porch by the lake. “You want to eat outside? The sky looks really beautiful now, and the weather looks like it’s nice too.”

Minghao nods, holding up the two mugs while you grab the plates and follow him outside and onto the little shaded porch where you sit by two of the chairs and the small, knee level coffee table. The sky is still deep in its changing colors, and you pull out your phone to take some pictures.

“Can you take some pictures of me? For my WeVerse and Instagram and stuff?” he asks when you’re done, holding out his phone in your direction.

“Yeah, of course.” Leaning back after you grab his phone, you position yourself as Minghao poses. “Lean back a little more so the background can—yeah, perfect …” You take a few photos, and Minghao nods happily when you show him.

“Can you take some more candid ones?”

“Sure, let’s switch spots. I think it’ll look nicer if it looks like you’re looking out to the lake from here,” you suggest, getting up from your seat. Minghao complies without protest and you spend a few more minutes taking some pictures before finally handing him the phone. “You like them?”

“Hell yeah I do,” he says, looking through his phone. “You’re great at this,” he compliments sincerely.

“I’m used to taking the kinda pictures you guys like now … Jun has trained me well,” you joke, sitting back in the seat and reaching for your own cup of tea. It’s quiet for a few moments as you both relax and watch the sky grow brighter by the minute.

Jun wakes up an hour later, trudging out his room with groggy eyes as you poke fun of him. The morning is slow for a short while after that before Minghao is reminding you all that you need to start heading back home. The two of them are leaving for Korea in two days, after all, and that leaves them with only today and tomorrow to completely bask in themselves and the rest of their family, so you pack your things and end your stay at the cabin before the clock hits noon.

That night, after you drive yourself and Jun home and you retreat to the comfort of your apartment, you flop down onto your couch and pull out your phone. You’re met with a few notifications from WeVerse and Instagram, casually scrolling through the apps when your eyes catch a few familiar pictures.

It’s on Instagram and you recognize the bright orange of the rising sky that sits behind Minghao who is smiling into the camera. The next picture is a candid one of him looking at the lake while he drinks some tea, and the third is a picture of the cupcake you made.

You grin at the picture—the rest of the world won’t know it, but you definitely do—it’s a little piece of you that Minghao is sharing with the world. Though, you aren’t sure if he put as much thought into it as you are right now.

Brushing it off as Minghao just wanting to share a pretty picture of a nice looking cupcake, you purse your lips together only for them to be parted when you read his caption.

i’m a weirdo

Scrolling through the comments, you come across people saying, many among the following:

ur not a weirdo >:c fellow radiohead fanatic i see is the8 a certified creep? o: i didn’t know minghao liked radiohead … another reason to stan!

As you ignore the increased palpitating of your heart at the idea that Minghao quoted a line from, in your opinion, “your guys’ song.” you sit and think for a moment about what to do. You consider just liking the post and scrolling past it before a funny thought crosses your mind, and so you start typing into the comments.

i wonder who took these pics lol

No one’s going to see it. Minghao is definitely not going to see it, but you giggle to yourself anyways. You’re about to put your phone down when you get a notification of a reply to your comment. Curious, you open it up, and see that it’s just a random person.

imagine it’s his gf

You laugh to yourself. You wish.

The last day or two with Jun goes as they always do when he’s here—slow, but all that you need. He spends his time at your parents house and you stop by for lunch and dinner the day after you both return from the lake house.

The afternoon, you both went down to the cafe and stocked up on chocolate buns—Jun’s request—and spent the rest of your time until evening going over your plans for the rest of the summer. You enjoy this part, always. Not Jun leaving—of course not—but spending these tame moments with him.

It makes you wonder what things would have been like if he never left. Maybe he’d move out for university someplace else, but you’d get to see him more, probably. Get to hang out with him every weekend, instead of every two months.

You shake yourself off the thought as you drive to your parents house. Having Jun around more often would be nice, but there isn’t any point in dreaming about the impossible.

As you pull up to the driveway and park your car, you notice Minghao standing out by the front door with his suitcase and a bag. “Hey, looking for Jun?”

“Well, yeah. Of course I wanna say bye to you both before you go … is the van here yet?”

“Nah, it’s still taking some time but Jun is on the other side of the house to see if the car is gonna come from that side,” he explains.

“I’m gonna miss you guys … you know when you’re both going to come next?” you ask, voice softer than you anticipated.

“I really don’t know—I’m sorry. You know how things are.”

“Yeah,” you mumble, shoulders deflating as you look down at the ground..

“I know—it’s not … it's not easy for Jun, either, I can tell. It isn’t easy for any of us to leave.” When Minghao finishes speaking you only nod, and as your eyes meet,you feel like there’s something he wants to say. “Hey,” he murmurs quietly.

A heavy hand is placed on your shoulder, and you feel you might as well sink to the ground and let the earth swallow you up. “If you’re going to talk about—”

“Hear me out, yeah?” Minghao cuts you off, and when you open your mouth in protest, he continues. “Don’t …” he inhales deeply before saying, “Don’t take what I’m about to say the wrong way, okay?”

You cross your arms over your chest. “That really depends on what you’re going to say.”

“Okay, just … just listen. Jun, and me, and Yiren, and Renjun—” God, why is he bringing this up? “—we aren’t trying to hurt you.”

“Of course I know that.” Your eyebrows knit together and Minghao sighs at your reaction, letting his hand fall from your shoulder. You miss the touch, but your mind is a little too preoccupied with trying to decipher Minghao’s words to dwell on it.

“I’m just saying … you shouldn’t try to depend on anyone.” You open your mouth and then close it, trying to figure out how the hell he expects you to respond to this.

“What d’you mean?”

“Well I mean,” he huffs before continuing, shoving his hands in his pockets, “you obviously have been … upset about people leaving you and you can’t expect everyone to stick around forever.”

“If you’re talking about Renjun, he was my boyfriend. I think it’s okay for me to expect someone who I’m dating to ‘stick around,’ even though it might not be forever.”

“I guess, but it’s not just Renjun, right? Jun … Yiren … me …” he voice trails off.

“I basically spent my whole middle and high school years around you and Yiren, and Jun is literally my brother. Do you think me wanting the people I quite literally grew up around to be here for me is being ‘dependant?’”

“I don’t know what to tell you. I mean we were all going to grow up eventually? Look, don’t take this the wrong way and—”

“Excuse me?” you blurt out harshly, taking a step back, scoffing before you continue. “I wouldn’t be taking this the wrong way if you obviously didn’t mean it the wrong way. You basically just said I’m not independent.”

Minghao frowns at your reaction before responding, “I didn’t say that. I just said you shouldn’t depend on anyone.”

“Which implies that I am depending on people unnecessarily!”

Minghao adjusts his backpack straps as he says, “I mean you did cry for quite a while about how people are leaving you. I just don’t want you to get more hurt by being dependent on others.”

“Thanks for the concern,” you shoot sarcastically, “but I’m not dependent on anyone. I was upset that night because all the people closest to me have moved away and if you ask any normal person, I’m pretty sure they’d agree that that’s a valid reason to cry a little. So sorry if that was too much for you.” You say the last part with disgust laced on your tongue, and you watch Minghao’s face grow increasingly sour as you go on.

“Okay, now you’re just twisting my words,” Minghao huffs, glancing around to make sure that no one is close by.

“What the hell Minghao,” you scoff, clenching your fists at your side. You don’t want to be the person to jump down his throat, but you can’t help but feel like you’re being talked down to. “Why—why are you acting like I’m still a little kid. I’m more than Jun’s little sister, you do know that right?”

“Oh my god, seriously?” Minghao retorts, eyebrows rising in a mix of disbelief and irritation. “You think that’s what this is about? For fuck’s sake I’m just looking out for you.”

“Exactly!” you exclaim, pointing an accusing finger at him. “There’s no reason for that! Like I said, I’m not some little girl anymore and I’ve been looking out for myself for years. You just happened to catch me in a moment where I let myself be sad about it which, again, is a totally valid thing to be sad about.”

“I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Well congratulations! You were unsuccessful,” you mumble out, feeling an ugly knot build up in your throat. “I trusted you,” you say softly, and Minghao looks at you with eyes so apologetic you almost think about forgiving him. “That night after I saw Renjun—I-I trusted you,” you add more harshly this time. “And I cried to you even though we haven’t properly spoken in fuck knows how long and you take all that and make me out to seem like some sort of defenseless kid—”

“Can you stop—you’re putting words into my mouth. I never said you were defenseless or not independent or anything like that—I don’t even know why you think I would think of you like that because you know that’s not true.”

“Minghao, I don’t know if you’ve realized but it’s been years since we've talked properly. Just because—” You take a deep breath before continuing your bitter words. “—just because you get to live your stupidly amazing life with my brother by your side doesn’t mean that you know me and that I know you, because clearly we don’t know each other at all!”

“I’m sorry?” he says exasperatedly. “Sorry I care about you or whatever, even though things have changed.”

You scowl, and in your right mind you wouldn’t let your next words slip out of your mouth. “Well don’t. I’ve been fine without your sympathy so far, I’m pretty sure I can go on a bit longer.”

Minghao is about to respond, you can tell from the way his hands fiddle at his sides, but then there’s a buzzing and you reach into your pocket to pull out your phone. “Hey Jun,” you say, answering the call without meeting Minghao’s gaze. “… Yeah, he’s with me, we’re just waiting for the car … okay I’ll tell him.”

Tucking the device back into your pocket, you look at Minghao. “Jun is asking for you on the other side of the house. You should go,” you say flatly and you can tell from the look on his face that he wants to say more, but holds back.

Grabbing his suitcase, he tears his eyes from you and doesn’t look back after saying, “See you,” walking away and around the corner of the street. There’s that similar chill that takes over your body when Minghao says the same words Renjun said just a few nights before, and you silently wonder if this is history repeating itself.

“So,” Yiren says as she plops down onto your couch, kicking her feet up onto your coffee table. “How’d meeting with Renjun go? He give you your shit back?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” you grumble as you walk over and nudge her legs to get her to put them down. “And you can’t just flop down and sit! Put your suitcase away so it’s not in the middle of the room,” you order, trying to be stern as Yiren sticks her tongue out at you.

“So bossy—your best friend is visiting your cute little abode and you can’t help her out with her stuff?” Yiren juts out her bottom lip into a pout as you sit next to her and wrap your arms around her waist, sinking into the couch. “Okay what’s going on. You’re being extra snappish …” she asks a bit more seriously, pulling away from your hold to get a better look at you. “Was it Renjun? Did he say something before he left?”

“No!” you say quickly, looking away bashfully, leaning back against the arm rest. You fucking wish you were in this sour mood because of Renjun because you could manage that. Renjun is gone, and it would hurt but you’d get over it.

You aren’t sure how long it’ll take to get over Minghao, if you ever do at all.

“Are you lying to me? You know I can tell when you’re not telling the truth.”

“I am telling the truth.” Just not all of it, you think to yourself.

Yiren sighs loudly, sitting up straight and facing you completely. “You are so bad at this. C’mon tell me—what’d he say? Or was it not Renjun—Jun? Which Jun was it? Did you and Jun fight?”

“I—”

“Like that one time two years ago and you didn’t talk to each other until he came back a month later and—”

You cringe at the memory, slapping a hand over her mouth. “Yiren don’t bring that up. I hated that.”

“Okay sorry,” she says sheepishly. “But seriously—what was it? Renjun? Jun? Which one? Or wait—Min—oh my gosh, don’t tell me it was Minghao!” When you take more than a second to respond, Yiren gasps. “Oh god, it was Minghao.”

She stands up quickly, looking down at your figure on the couch. Before you can say anything, she turns on her heel and walks towards your kitchen. “Hey, where are you going!” you call out to her, sitting upright.

Yiren doesn’t respond, only reaching into the fridge and pulling out two cans of pop. Walking back, she sits down in front of you and hands you a Cola, opening her own Sprite herself. “C’mon, you need to tell me about this. The pop is just here for emotional support.”

You narrow your eyes at her. You thought you were dealing with the effects of your argument with Minghao perfectly fine, but as you look down at the cold can in front of you, an uneasy feeling bubbles up in your stomach. Taking a deep breath, you set the can down on your coffee table, leaving it unopened.

Yiren gapes at you with wide eyes. “You’re not going to have it?” Neck hanging low, you shake your head, and you hear her gasp quietly. “Oh my gosh, you just turned down a Cola,” she mutters, grabbing a pillow and pushing it in your direction. “Okay now you need to tell me what’s going on.” She pauses, shuffling closer, adding softly, “It’s okay, you can cry.”

And just like that, the dam breaks and stray tears fall from your lashes as you clutch the pillow close to your chest, blubbering your mind away to your best friend.

“I don’t even get it—I thought I was over him?” you question aloud. “Like when I was with Renjun I was happy and I didn’t think about Minghao because Renjun was great and he was so nice but he just—” you choke back a sob and Yiren pats your back.

“But he left,” she murmurs softly and you want to cry harder because Yiren left too, but then you remind yourself of what Minghao said. Taking a deep breath, your wipe your face of your tears and although your lips still quiver, you start to speak.

“It’s okay,” you mutter, because it isn't like you haven’t cried over this before. “I just—I guess I haven’t really tried hard enough.”

“Tried to … what exactly?”

You huff, throwing your back onto the couch as you look up at the ceiling. “You know: get over him.”

Yiren chuckles a little, and even through your sniffles, you laugh with her. “What are you saying—you gonna fuck around now?”

“Maybe not fuck around,” you say, crossing your legs. “More like … have some fun.”

“So basically fuck around.”

“Yiren!”

“Oh c’mon—you need me to set you up with someone? My sister knows a lot of—”

You nudge her playfully. “What happened to ‘Ms. I Want Half of the Proceeds from your Wedding with Minghao?’”

“First of all,” Yiren waves a finger at you pointedly, “I only asked for 25%, but if you two can come back from this, I will be asking for at least 50% because I have been rooting for you two since day one.”

“Aren’t you the one who’s trying to set me up with other guys?”

“That’s only because you come first to me. Your relationship with Minghao—”

“The nonexistent one,” you correct and Yiren glares at you.

“Okay fine. Your nonexistent relationship with Minghao comes second. I want to see you happy. If you get to be happy with Minghao that’s just an added plus because, you know, 50% of all the gifts and—”

“You’re getting 25% max.”

“Don’t worry. There’s still time for plenty of negotiation and—”

“Yiren!”

You don’t live up to Yiren’s expectations—in her words, she wanted you to have a hot girl summer, but you couldn’t be bothered to go through with it. Well, sort of.

The next two months go along as your summers usually do. You take up a job near your apartment, working through the morning and afternoon, spending your evenings at home or occasionally out with Jianing.

Jianing doesn’t know much about anything when it comes to your (nonexistent) relationship with Minghao, and you figure she doesn’t need to. When you need a distraction, all it takes is a quick message asking her to accompany you for whatever endeavors you have going on for the night and she’s on board.

It’s a slow summer, but you don’t really mind. Not burdened with the stress of your classes and with Jun and Minghao gone for the next two months for their own performances and promotions, you have time to focus on yourself.

Occasional parties, indulging in hobbies, daily walks in the mornings, late nights of binge watching TV shows, outings with Jianing—it’s all a part of a simple routine that you’ve curated to do one thing, and one thing only: relax.

It’s only near the end of the summer, around three weeks before your classes are set to resume, that Jun calls you to let you know he’s coming home with Minghao. He seems pretty casual about it, and you’re reminded about how Minghao probably didn’t mention anything about your argument to your brother, which you’re thankful for.

It’s a passing thought that you’ll have to figure out how you want to act when you finally face him again. Whatever. That’s a problem for another time. Right now, you relax.

That problem for another time seems to have become a problem for now. Jun came home two days ago and things were alright—no run-ins to Minghao and you spend time with your brother like you usually do whenever he returns: with bickering and meals.

It’s only on the third day that things become a little … a little iffy. Your brother texts you in the evening to get ready quickly because he’s stopping by with Minghao for dinner at his place, and it’s all happening so quickly that you don’t have time to come up with an excuse.

So here you are, throwing on your sacred pink jacket because it’s the first thing in your vision, some old jeans, and waiting outside your apartment building much less enthusiastically than you’d like. It’s only a matter of minutes before your phone buzzes with a text from Jun letting you know he’s here and you see Minghao’s car pulling up in front of you.

Making your way to the back door where you usually sit with the two of them, you furrow your brows seeing Jun sitting in your usual spot.

“Sit in the front,” Jun orders when you go to open the back door, “I wanna lay down.” You shrug, making your way to the passenger seat as Jun settles into the back, resting his head on the window while kicking his legs up onto the other two seats.

“Hi,” you say quietly to Minghao who nods and speaks his own quick greeting, averting his attention to the wheel in front of him without much more than that.

“Please,” he huffs, watching Jun through the rear view mirror, “don’t put your shoes on the seats. I just had the car cleaned.” Jun clicks his tongue and kicks his shoes off, continuing to lay back in the seat as Minghao starts the car. The ride is silent as he drives toward the restaurant, both you and Jun on your phones while Minghao has his eyes trained on the road.

Once he parks in front of the place, you watch from the corner of your vision to see Minghao unbuckling his seatbelt before your brother speaks up.

“You guys can wait here, I’m gonna grab the food,” Jun says, slipping in his shoes and making his way to the restaurant, leaving you and Minghao in thickening silence. His hands are resting on his thighs and you press your head on the window, looking out as you try to focus on anything but this.

“Uh,” Minghao clears his throat, and you silently brace yourself for what he might say. “Nice jacket.”

Oh.

Glancing down at what you’re wearing, you twiddle with the hem of the familiar pink jacket. You wonder if this is Minghao’s way of holding out a figurative olive branch, and then you think harder about if you’re willing to accept it. “Thanks,” you reply, matting a hand over your hair before turning your attention to Jun who’s walking towards your car now.

Slipping into the back seat, he shakes the plastic bag in the air as he buckles himself in. “Takeout secured. Let’s go back to your place now,” Jun says, tapping on Minghao’s shoulder from behind. There’s an odd tension in the air, and you don’t doubt that Jun feels it, although he keeps his mouth shut about it.

No one says a word until Minghao is parking in his driveway and unlocking the front door. You follow behind the two of them, Jun grabbing the food as you enter Minghao’s house.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Jun asks, putting the takeout bag on the coffee table of the living room as you all begin to settle down.

You shrug off your coat as you say, “Uh, I have to go back to my place and go out for the afternoon and evening with Jianing. Me and her have this little monthly date day thing, and we’re going to the city.”

“Wha-a-a-t,” Jun drawls out, a frown etched onto his face. You narrow your eyes at him, shrugging.

“What? It’s not like you’re leaving right after tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but I’m not here for long. I wanted to do something tomorrow, since I might be doing stuff after that!” Jun whines, pointing at Minghao. “We might be going to this cool store and take some pictures and stuff.”

You huff, slightly annoyed as you flop down on a couch. “Okay well can’t you do that tomorrow then? I already have plans.”

Jun pouts, and if he wasn’t so on your nerves right now, you would poke some fun at him. “Why-y-y? You knew I was coming this week!”

“Well it’s not like I can clear my schedule for you. If you wanted to do something you should’ve told me earlier!”

“I let you know last week I was coming down!”

“Jun,” you say with a half laugh, noticing the way Minghao’s eyes have been flickering back and forth between you two through the whole conversation, “one week is not enough time to change some plans. I’ve been meeting with Jianing consistently at this time of month for over a year!”

“But still—”

“It’s not like if I showed up to Korea whenever the time’s convenient for me, you’d drop everything you’re doing to spend time with me!” you exclaim.

Jun’s fists ball at his side before he says, “That’s because my job is important and—”

“The stuff I do in my life might not seem important to you but it is very much important to me. Sorry I’ve made commitments to other people before I even knew you were coming, but I don’t know why you’d expect me to drop all my plans just for you. It’s not even like we aren’t going to see each other afterwards too.”

“Well I’d only hope that’s the case—I only ever see you once every few months so sorry for wanting to take some of your time.”

“Guys—” Minghao starts to say, standing between the two of you but when both you and Jun glare at him, he steps back.

“Do you think your time is worth more than mine or something?” you scoff at Jun, ignoring Minghao.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’m sorry, what exactly did you mean it like then?” you hiss.

Jun sucks in a breath between clenched teeth and runs a hand through his hair. “You know what I meant. Things are just—they’re different. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Right yeah. I won’t understand because I don’t have all these girls throwing themselves at me, making me think I’m entitled to everyone’s damn time.” Maybe you crossed a line with that one, but you’re too angry to care now. Hot tears well up in your lash line, threatening to fall any moment now.

“You were the one who was being a brat when you found out I was going to go to Korea in the first place!” Jun exclaims. “Fucking hell, why are you making such a big deal out of me wanting to spend some time with you now?”

Your face screws up into some kind of ugly frown at the words, and you clench your fists as your side. “A brat?” you repeat. “A brat? Is that seriously what you think of me?

“Well you did make a pretty damn big scene about me leaving, so yeah, maybe I do feel entitled to some of your time seeing that you were the one who was desperate for it in the first place.”

“Desperate? Are you kidding me—desperate? I was sixteen and you dumped the fact that you were moving away in like less than two months on me —of course I was upset but desperate? Well fuck you too I guess.” You punctuate the last word by turning on your heel, grabbing your coat off and marching past Minghao and over to the door.

You don’t hear Jun say anything after you do, and for that you are grateful because you don’t think you’ll be able to handle hearing his voice again. Walking out the foyer past the door, you stomp your way to your car, forcefully yanking the driver’s seat open and plopping yourself down with a heavy thud.

Without a word, you press your forehead against the steering and scream a loud and painful, “FUCK!” You can’t even remember a damn thing you or Jun said but all that throttles in your head is the word brat and you feel you might just pull the steering wheel off your stupid car and tear just about everything else apart too.

The prospect is pretty tempting, actually, and in your red, you continue to hit your head, albeit gently, against the wheel as you mutter incoherent curses to yourself. The thud of your skull against the smooth letter rings in your ears until it becomes all that you can hear, so loud that it almost drowns out the knocking sound that comes from outside.

“Holy shit!” you gasp, when you see Minghao from the corner of your vision, standing outside your car with his lips pressed into the thin line. Rolling down your windows, you grimace. “You fucking scared me so bad. Please never creep up on me like that again.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Don’t fucking storm out like that again then,” Minghao says, and your eyes widen slightly when you hear his voice. It’s harder, firmer, more serious than you’ve ever heard before.

“What are you—”

“You can’t drive when it’s night and you’re sobbing—”

“I am not sobbing,” you fruitlessly choke out, wiping some tears off your cheek as you straighten your back and glare at him.

“Look I get you’re mad at Jun and all but can you please calm down and talk to me so—”

You let out a humorless laugh as you begin to roll your windows back up. “Don’t even get me started on you.”

Minghao clicks his tongue as he sticks a hand into your window to stop it from going up any further, looking sideways for a second before turning back to you. “Okay well I don’t want you to drive yourself home like this. It’s not safe.”

“I am not staying here tonight.”

“Then let me drive you home,” Minghao suggests and you open up to object but no words come out. “You agree? C’mon, step out.” You let out nothing more than a huff as you open the door, slipping out quickly and shuffling to the other side where you sit with your arms crossed over your chest, bottom lip jutting out into a pout.

Minghao has already taken your spot, hands on the same steering wheel that you were planning on smashing with your head just minutes ago. He’s quiet for a few moments as he backs out of the driveway and starts driving down the street, the car echoing nothing but your soft sniffles that haven’t seemed to stop.

When Minghao opens his mouth again, you’re bracing yourself for a round of chiding, but all that comes out is a one-word question. “Pop?” He takes your silence as a confirmation, and soon enough Minghao is pulling up to that same convenience store. “Do you want me to get it for you?” he asks after he’s parked in front of the convenience store.

You purse your lips together, finally letting yourself turn to look at him. You really want to be mad at him but when you catch the way his fingers are shoved into his pockets, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip as he awaits your answer, you start to realize that Minghao might be just as apprehensive about this as you are.

“It’s fine,” you mutter, unbuckling your seatbelt so you can get out, Minghao following you quickly.

You’re the first to walk in this time, grabbing a Cola for yourself before looking at Minghao with a raised brow. When he nods, you toss him another can and he makes his way to the cash register. He’s about to pull out his wallet when you’re brushing past him and getting there first, holding up your card to the machine proudly.

“Just because I don’t want to be in any more debt to you,” you murmur, handing Minghao a can after you’ve paid for them both. You lead the way, walking out of the door and slotting yourself into the passenger seat of your car and Minghao gets into the seat next to you, turning on the engine.

You’re still quiet when he starts driving towards your apartment building, and you think that this is the perfect chance for you to drown in the silence. Maybe if you pretend you’re alone, you’ll be able to forget about all the thoughts running through your mind.

Pressing your eyes shut, you slump down into your seat and just as you’re about to let your mind drift into the silence, you hear a familiar rattle of the snare and guitar bridge and your eyes snap open, staring at Minghao directly. He faces forward, eyes trained on the road as he pulls closer to the curb in front of your complex, sighing deeply when the car starts to slow down.

“What are you trying to do Minghao?” you finally say weakly, burying your face in your hands. “You—you’re playing Creep and you took me to get Cola and all you were supposed to do was take me home so—”

“Can I not try to make you feel better? I don’t want you to be upset, so I’m sorry if I’m trying to do the things I know you enjoy,” Minghao responds with a heavy breath, parking in front of your building just like that night he did when he picked you up from the bus stop after you met with Renjun.

The deep strumming of guitar and vibrations of the bass bounce off the walls of your car, and you slip into your seat as the words of the song sink in.‘What the hell am I doing here?’ Glancing up at Minghao, your vision grows blurry. “Minghao …” your voice is quiet and strained when you call for him, and in that moment, you know.

All those years ago when you wanted to kiss him and hold him and pull him close, but you didn’t because you were scared. When you wanted to let your tongues collide and tug at his hair, but you didn’t because you had so much to lose.

You still have so much to lose, but you’re not scared anymore.

And it seems Minghao isn’t either.

Tonight, you get to taste the lingering drops of Cola on his tongue. You get to feel his arms fumbling over the armrest, slipping around your waist and yanking you onto his lap. You get to hold his neck and let your fingers sit in his hair. You get to indulge.

Minghao’s mouth is hot against yours, tongue lapping at your bottom lip when you take a sacred moment to breathe on top of him before your eyes are fluttering back shut and your lips mold into one once again. He hugs you so close you don’t know how you can still breathe, don’t know how your bones don’t melt into each other in this burning moment.

Your lips work fervently to slide against each other in a wet, calculated mess that has you whimpering into Minghao’s mouth when one of his hands cups your jaw. His thumb is soft against your cheekbone when he tilts your head to the side so that your noses brush against either and his lips delve deeper into the caverns of your mouth.

You don’t know how long you two go at it, fingers grappling at whatever skin you can, Minghao’s hand brushing under your shirt and stroking the plush of your hips. And when you feel like you can’t breathe anymore because your heart is so full, you pull away, letting the thin string of saliva connect your shiny lips.

Your brain is foggy and you and Minghao simply sit in the comfortable silence. Well, almost comfortable silence.

You shouldn’t try to depend on anyone.

“W-wait,” you stutter when Minghao leans forward in hopes to catch your lips in another fleeting kiss. “Oh my god,” you mutter to yourself, pushing his shoulders back against the seat as you try to shuffle off his lap.

Minghao holds your waist tightly, but you break free of the grasp. “What are you doi—hey, wait a sec!”

“You said you’re trying to make me feel better but you just did exactly the opposite,” you scoff, slipping on your coat as you push the car door open.

“What are you talking abo—” You cut him off by slamming the door, and Minghao quickly grabs your keys and follows after you. “Slow down.”

You whip around to face him, tears streaming down your face for what feels nth time tonight. “Look, you left like two months ago spewing all this stuff about how I should be independent but the second you come back you act like you’re trying so hard to make me feel better and stuff and then—” You take a deep breath, “—then we makeout and you—fuck I don’t know, I don’t know what you expect from me! Do you just expect me to forget about this and not get upset when you leave again?” you choke out. “Just keep my keys and drive yourself back to your place. I’ll pick up my car later,” you mutter.

“Can you stop doing this? It’s just like what happened last time, and I don’t want to have to leave if you’re—if we’re not okay.”

“What ‘we?’ Weren’t you the one who told me to not expect anyone to stay? I’m not going to do this ‘we’ and ‘us’ thing with someone who is just going to leave all over again. I’m not going to expect you to stay.”

“Look, I just don’t want this to be hanging over your head when I’m gone.”

Ironic, you think to yourself. You want to tell Minghao that he’s been hanging over your head ever since you met him all those years ago, but you bite back the words.

“Minghao,” you say, your voice strained and tired, “I’m already exhausted and my brain isn’t working so can you please just give me my space.”

And if Minghao is one thing, it’s not pushy, and you know that this is all it takes to get him to back off. Though, you don’t miss the way his face falls as he steps back quietly.

“See you,” he mutters through gritted teeth as he turns on his heel, and you can’t tell if you’re relieved or bothered by the way he leaves so silently.

You don’t see Minghao or Jun after that night. They’rewere  supposed to leave for Korea in the next four days, and so you spend those four days lodged up in your apartment, not leaving unless absolutely necessary—you’re scared that you might run into one of them, as pathetic as that sounds.

Jun doesn’t text you and you don’t text him. It’s a bit abnormal, you two communicate at least once every two days, if not more. It’s a bit of an unspoken rule, but now that you’re both hot-headed and very much not in the right mind, you figure some rules are meant to be broken.

It’s two days after Jun and Minghao were scheduled to leave, the only confirmation that you got that they actually did leave being the group picture at the airport your father sent to the family group chat.

Jianing comes to your apartment when you finally call her over, quickly picking up on your sullen state.

“I don’t get it,” she says with a shrug after you explain to her everything that happened between you and Jun and Minghao.

“Well yeah, I guess you don’t, but this has been going on for a while,” you reply begrudgingly, sinking into your couch as she stares at you blankly from your armchair.

“Just—I dunno—talk to them?”

You give her a funny look. “How?” you groan, throwing your head back. “They won’t be back for like a month at least, and I don’t want to call them.”

“I forget they’re famous sometimes” Jianing mutters, rolling her eyes, and you laugh at the comment.

“You and me both,” you say, straightening your back.

“But still, I don’t get it. I mean just visit them?” she suggests casually.

“I can’t just fly up to Korea unannounced!” you exclaim, bewildered.

Jianing rolls her eyes at you and you frown. “Why not? I mean you just said this might go on for a while if you don’t talk to them so I don’t get it. Just go see them.”

YOURS TRULY

you: chan i need ur help [8:13 AM] chan: this is ur first time texting me in three months [8:15 AM] chan: so i am going to assume this is pretty important [8:15 AM] you: i’m at incheon airport [8:16 AM] chan: what [8:17 AM] you: what [8:17 AM] chan: jun didn’t say anything about u coming??! [8:19 AM] you: DON’T TELL HIM [8:19 AM] chan: what … [8:20 AM] you: i’m surprising him [8:20 AM] chan: ????? [8:21 AM] chan: who knows [8:21 AM] you: um you do [8:21 AM] chan: thank u [8:22 AM] chan: so what do u need [8:22 AM] you: can u pick me up [8:23 AM] chan: i don’t have a choice do i [8:24 AM] you: nope :3 [8:24 AM]

When black SUV stops in front of you by the curb at the airport, you smile brightly, waving at the driver as the windows begin to roll down. You’re about to chirp a quick, “Hi Chan!” but the words get caught in your throat when you see who’s driving.

“Jeonghan?” you ask confusedly. He waves at you from the front seat, and Chan sticks his head in from the back to look at you through the window.

“I’m sorry!” he exclaims, opening the door to help you pull in your suitcase and get situated into the back seat. “Look, I tried to leave without anyone noticing but they saw me so I told them I was going to the gym, but he said he wanted to come and —” Chan glares at the man in the passenger seat, “— I don’t even know why since he hasn’t gone to the gym in ages—”

“Watch it Chan!” Jeonghan calls out from the front as the cat starts to move, pulling an eye roll out of the boy sitting next to you.

“Whatever. Basically, I had no choice but to bring him along and tell them I was actually picking you up.”

“You guys didn’t tell Jun, did you?” you ask worriedly.

“I—no,” Jeonghan says. “And even if we tried, he won’t be awake for another hour or whatever. That’s besides the point anyways—Chan is terrible at lying.”

“You caught me off guard! I wasn’t expecting to see anyone this morning, so I didn’t have any excuses prepared …” Chan huffs, sinking into his seat as you glance back and forth between them nervously.

“Thank you for trying anyways,” you say sincerely, adjusting in your seat. “I know this was all really sudden but I didn’t plan anything out and I kinda ended up here before I could even process anything,” you add.

“Hey, Minghao was telling us about these really good cupcakes you make—if you have time, can you bake them for us?” Chan asks, out of the blue.

You give him a funny look and then smile. “Sure, if I have the time. I’d like to—they told me Mingyu tries to make them for you guys.”

“Yeah! That would—”

“Thank you, but I’m going to assume that you are here for a reason other than making us your infamous cupcakes,” Jeonghan says, merging onto the freeway.

“As much as I’d love for that to be why I’m here, you’re right,” you mutter, resting your head against the headrest.

“Is everything alright?” Jeonghan asks.

As you’re about to respond, Chan chimes in. “This is about Jun, isn’t it?”

“Ai—Channie, don’t jump to conclusions,” Jeonghan reprimands but Chan shakes his head, holding his hand up as he turns to you with wide eyes.

“No, no, I’m not assuming anything. I’m right, aren’t I?” Partly. Chan continues. “Well it’s just—I can kinda tell. He’s being a little snappier. Jeonghan wouldn’t know but—“

Jeonghan gives Chan a warning look through the rear view mirror. “What do you mean I wouldn’t know?”

“Hannie, just listen to me. So me and Soonyoung and Minghao and Jun have been practicing at night right—for that next performance—and you know that Jun has a bit of a temper, especially in the night, but I don’t know—it’s just been different recently.”

You stifle a scoff when Chan mentions Jun having a short temper, looking out the window hoping no one heard. Jun does have a bit of a fiery streak, but the truth is that you’re just as sporadic as him.

Fire meets fire. Huh, wonder what that makes. More fire, probably. That’s what got you here, isn’t it? Unfortunately.

“Has, uh,” you pause wondering if you should ask this, but curiosity does kill the cat, after all. “Has Minghao seemed … off?”

Jeonghan narrows his eyes at you. “What’s Minghao got to do with this? Did something happen with him too?” Curse that emotionally intelligent man.

Chan eyes flicker between the ground and you. “It’s hard to tell when Minghao is upset. He seems normal even when he’s upset so I can’t really tell … why though?”

“Just—just a lot of stuff. I think I need to see them both. Separately.”

Jeonghan nods, pursing his lips together before responding, “Do you need our help?”

Jeonghan takes you to his apartment first so you have a moment to drop your suitcase off somewhere, and you get to say hi to Seungkwan who you’re pretty sure didn’t even recognize you in his drowsy state.

“Where’re we going?” you ask when you get back outside of the building heading towards the car.

“C’mon, let’s walk,” Chan says, pulling you away from the car.

“Jun’s apartment building is just down the street here,” Jeonghan explains. “He should be sleeping right now, so just wake him up.”

“Are you kidding me? He might kill me!” you complain with a frown.

Chan huffs, “Well you did come here unannounced and without a plan, so you don’t have much of a choice anyways.”

You chew on your lip as you fruitlessly try to come up with an answer, sighing in defeat when you come up with nothing.

“Exactly,” Jeonghan concludes, stopping in front of a building that’s built similar to his. “Anyways, his suite number is 345 on the third floor. You should know the code to his apartment right?”

You nod, but then shake your head. “I know it, but I think I’ll just knock until he wakes up. He might actually kill me if someone shows up inside his home unannounced.”

Chan laughs at that when the two of you lead you to the elevator of this new building. “That, he might.”

“So encouraging,” you mutter, sticking your tongue out at them as the elevator door opens. “Anyways, thank you for helping me, really. I’ll make cupcakes if I make it out of this alive,” you promise while you step in.

“You better!” Jeonghan calls out as the doors slide shut and the elevator begins to take you up.

It’s now, when you’re alone, that it all begins to sink in. You’re in Korea. You’re about to see Jun. You might die—okay maybe you’re being a little dramatic, but you aren’t sure what to do with yourself so your mind is jumping towards the worst possible scenario as you reach the third floor and make your way to his apartment.

You stand in front of room 345 for a few moments once you arrive, not even sure if you’ll manage to go through with this. What the fuck are you even going to say?

(Un?)fortunately, you have a tendency to not think before you act, and before you have a second of thought your knuckles are rapping against the door. It’s silent for a moment and you wonder if you should go again.

Taking a deep breath, you continue knocking on the door at a steady rate before you hear soft footsteps growing louder in volume until they stop at the door. You hold your breath and let your hand fall, fisting it at your sides in anticipation.

When you see the door crack open, a wave of relief washes over you. But when you see Jun’s blank face as he looks down on you, a new sense of uneasiness takes over.

“What are you doing in my apartment?” Ah, how nostalgic.

“So cold. You aren’t going to let me in?”

Jun rolls his eyes, and you grow more anxious because you can’t tell if he’s being playful or not. He steps to the side though, and you quickly slip through the door so he can close and lock it behind you.

“What are you doing here?” he reiterates and you feel your tongue go dry.

“Uh, Chan told me that you’re being—well—how do I put this?” you mutter to yourself, rocking back and forth on your feet.

“Difficult?” Jun guesses, bitterness laced in the word and you cringe at the tone.

“I guess.”

“I don’t think you came all the way to Korea just because Chan told you I was being difficult.”

“I, uh, I talked to Jianing about it when she visited and … I guess I felt I should come see you.”

“So if Jianing didn’t talk to you about this, then you just wouldn’t have talked about it?” Jun asks harshly and you glare at him.

“Well it’s not like you would’ve come talk to me about it either,” you retort, and Jun goes quiet at them. “And Jianing didn’t make this decision for me, by the way, I made it all by myself.”

“Okay well you’re here now. What is it?” An uncomfortable silence sits between you two. “If you only came here to just stand there and stare off into space then—”

“Jun, please shut your mouth for like one minute,” you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I-I wanted to apologize. That night I … I was on edge.” Jun watches you intently as you finally meet his gaze. “There was a lot running through my mind and I was just—just fucking annoyed at everything and I took everything you said the worst way.”

A feeling of worry climbs up your throat—you and Jun don’t often apologize, at least not like this. Apologies usually come in the form of figurative olive trees—you buy him a LEGO set, he buys you a gift card to your favorite cafe, or something among that. Then again, this isn’t your usual argument with Jun, and maybe sometimes resorting to more traditional methods are most effective.

Jun sighs softly, not looking at you, and you grow worried that he’s even more angry than you anticipated. You brace yourself for his next possible words. “I … I did say some mean stuff too. I’m sorry—I just—I have a shitty temper. You know that. Chan probably told you that too.” Jun is silent for a second before continuing. “Is … is everything okay?”

The question isn’t quite what you’re expecting and you press your lips together tightly because you want to cry. You want to let the tears stream down your cheeks and tell Jun that you have no idea but also the perfect idea of what you’re doing and it’s all jumbled up mess in your head.

“I guess—I mean, I hate fighting with you,” you admit. “But, that’s why I came here and we didn’t say goodbye the last time and I know that was partly my fault but also I missed you.”

“But are you okay?”

“Jun—”

“Because I know you’re stubborn—it really is annoying sometimes but I’m not one to complain,” he adds with a huff, “and I know you’re a little weird—”

You both laugh and you point a finger at him, “Watch it—you and me both.”

“Whatever,” he says lightly before turning to a more serious tone. “But I never thought we’d fight again like that one time two years ago and—”

“Why does everyone keep bringing that up!? Yiren said that too,” you sigh.

“To make a point. Which, by the way, is me going back to asking you if everything’s okay. I just … I know that you’re a little crazy but I never thought that you’d fly over here for something that we could probably sort out over the phone. Not that I’m not glad to see you here, I mean, I am, I’m just … worried.”

“I kissed Minghao,” you blurt out, immediately slapping a hand over your mouth after you do.

“What?!” Jun’s eyes go wide for a moment before he relaxes a little. “Is that what’s been up with you?”

“What do you mean ‘up with me?’”

“Moody. Cranky. Like you’re in high school again.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You chew on your lip as you try to read Jun’s expression. He doesn’t seem mad nor happy nor confused, and you’re running out of emotions to label him under.

“I knew you liked him in high school, you know. Thin walls, plus Yiren is loud as hell.”

“Ugh, I always told her to keep it down! She didn’t believe me!”

“Doesn’t matter now. What you or him do isn’t much of my business anyways,” Jun mutters, awkwardly stuffing his hands in the pockets of his hoodies. “I mean I guess it is, if it makes you all upset and not okay like this,” he continues.

You can tell he’s encouraging you to explain more, and you press your eyes together trying to figure what and what not you should say. “Has Minghao … has he seemed different?”

“I mean not really, but also it’s hard to tell with him because—” Your whole finger droops and Jun quickly places a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, what is this about? Did something happen? You know you can tell me.”

“It’s a lot,” you confess. “I don’t know, I-I came here to talk to the both of you but I haven’t even thought about what to say to him. I kind of booked my tickets last night.”

“Last night?!”Jun exclaims. “Are you stupid or what?”

“Maybe I am!” you murmur, slapping your palm against your forehead. Jun looks down at your pained expression and frowns.

“You’re not going to tell me what happened, are you?”

“What happened to, ‘I don’t care what you guys do it isn’t my business?’”

“Well it is my business if you’re upset! I’m the only person who’s allowed to be a bitch to you.”

“Well ditto to you too!” You follow with a sigh. “I think I just need to talk to him.”

“He’s at the gym right now. Do you want to get coffee instead?”

“Hogging me all to yourself? I know you missed me but don’t you think this is a little unfair—I’d like to at least say hi to the others first. Or maybe have some time to sleep. I kind of got here at like seven in the morning.”

“Be grateful! I’m actually looking out for you, because they’ll literally hound you, plus I want to make up for not spending time with you last time I visited.”

You grin at the words, rolling your eyes playfully. “Fine. But you’re paying.”

“When do I not pay for you?”

“Loads of times!”

“That’s because you insist on paying for yourself.”

“Irrelevant!” you exclaim triumphantly, waving a fist in the air before Jun locks his arm around your neck and traps you in a headlock. Good times.

“We have afternoon practice, then recording in the studio in the evening, but we should be done by like eight,” Jun explains, taking a picture of the coffee in front of him.

“Must you take a picture of everything?” you sigh, taking a sip of your own drink. Jun rolls his eyes, flicking your knee from under the table.

“I am a celebrity. I kinda need to keep records of everything I do.”

“Okay well I’m your sister and I kinda need you to help me talk to Minghao.”

“Just like—I dunno—find him and talk to him. Can’t be that hard.”

“You—ugh, you’re just like Jianing,” you groan. “No help!”

“Okay fine, fine. What do you want me to do? Corner him? Lock him into a closet and keep him there so you can talk to him? Force him to—”

“Junnie what the hell,” you mutter, slapping a hand to your forehead. “I think I’m just going to have to ask Jeonghan and Chan for help again because—”

“Okay no. I’ll help. What do you need me to do?”

“Have you been listening to me? Tell me when and where I can talk to him!”

“Well I already suggested the closet but you turned that down so—”

“Jun.”

“We can try the meeting room? He’s there a lot and it’s usually empty in the evenings. He responds to emails and shit there, I don’t know, so you won’t be interrupting much.”

“You sure it’ll work?”

Jun cocks an eyebrow up. “You don’t trust me?” You kick him under the table and he winces. “Okay yes, yes, it’ll work so would you stop kicking—hey! I said stop kicking!”

“We have afternoon practice, then recording in the studio in the evening, but we should be done by like eight,” Jun explains, taking a picture of the coffee in front of him.

“Must you take a picture of everything?” you sigh, taking a sip of your own drink. Jun rolls his eyes, flicking your knee from under the table.

“I am a celebrity. I kinda need to keep records of everything I do.”

“Okay well I’m your sister and I kinda need you to help me talk to Minghao.”

“Just like—I dunno—find him and talk to him. Can’t be that hard.”

“You—ugh, you’re just like Jianing,” you groan. “No help!”

“Okay fine, fine. What do you want me to do? Corner him? Lock him into a closet and keep him there so you can talk to him? Force him to—”

“Junnie what the hell,” you mutter, slapping a hand to your forehead. “I think I’m just going to have to ask Jeonghan and Chan for help again because—”

“Okay no. I’ll help. What do you need me to do?”

“Have you been listening to me? Tell me when and where I can talk to him!”

“Well I already suggested the closet but you turned that down so—”

“Jun.”

“We can try the meeting room? He’s there a lot and it’s usually empty in the evenings. He responds to emails and shit there, I don’t know, so you won’t be interrupting much.”

“You sure it’ll work?”

Jun cocks an eyebrow up. “You don’t trust me?” You kick him under the table and he winces. “Okay yes, yes, it’ll work so would you stop kicking—hey! I said stop kicking!”

You twiddle your thumbs nervously behind your back as you wait in the elevator with Jeonghan. Jun had to take care of something with one of the other members, so he sent you off with the older boy to take you to the meeting room.

“He’ll be there, don’t worry,” Jeonghan tells you as he pats your shoulder lightly. “I just checked his location and I’m positive he’s there right now.”

“Thanks,” you say with a sigh, shifting your weight from leg to leg, “but I’m more worried about what I’m going to say. I think you already know but I planned like zero percent of this.”

“It’s becoming increasingly evident, unfortunately,” Jeonghan admits when the elevator dings and the door opens onto a floor full of rooms. “You’ll figure it out, I’m sure, seeing as you’re just like Jun.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jeonghan chuckles and leads you to a door a few steps down the hallway, pointing to it. “Don’t worry about it. He’ll be in there. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be down on floor three making some ramen,” he says cheerily, waving at you before retreating to elevatory before you have even a moment to protest.

So now you’re left with nothing but yourself and yet another door. This time, instead of knocking your life away, your hand is pressed against the knob as you debate whether or not you should turn it or not.

Once again, your body acts without your mind and you’re quietly opening the door and poking your head through the crack. Inside is Minghao with headphones over his ears, sitting at the end of a long table with his head crooked down as he scrolls through his lap top.

He doesn’t hear you, but you aren’t sure if it’s for the better or the worse. In some ways, you still have a chance to run, but in others, you’ll have to call out to him if you want him to notice you. Gulping, you realize that you’ve been too scared for too long and so you clear your throat.

“Minghao,” you call out.

It only takes a second for his eyes to shoot up, hands flying to his headphones to take them off as he takes in the sight of you in front of him. You’re at opposite ends of the room right now, and you nervously shut the door behind you as you finally meet his gaze.

“What are you doing here?”

“I—” You inhale sharply. “—I don’t know. I just think we both needed to talk.”

You can see him visibly gulp as he stands up, and looks away as if trying to figure out what he should do with himself.

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath, dread washing over you.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, face burning. “I know I just showed up like this without warning and I know that’s not fair so if you don’t want to talk you know I totally get it and—” you start to blabber so fast you hardly notice him walking over and down the length of the table, “—I just really wanted to see you and talk to you but I couldn’t do it over the phone because—”

“Slow down,” Minghao says firmly, now standing in front of you as he gazes down with wide eyes. “Is everything okay? When did you come here—wait, did you come here just to talk to me?”

“Well yeah. And Jun.”

“Are you okay?” Minghao asks softly. “This doesn’t seem like you.”

You wince at the familiar words but shake it off. “I know, I just had so much to say and I’m sorry because you were right, and when you said you didn’t want this hanging over my head I was angry and I thought I could ignore this and ignore you but I was wrong and just really needed to sort things out. And the night you picked me up after Renjun and all—I know you told me to not depend anyone or anything—and I know I’m not listening to you right now and I don’t want you to be disappointed but—”

“Stop,” Minghao says, holding a hand up. “Disappointed? I—please don’t think that. The stuff I said that night was …” he sighs before continuing. “You were so upset that night because you didn’t have us around and I felt so bad but also, there wasn’t anything I could do about that.”

“I …” your eyebrows knit together as you try to find the right words. “… I know that. I didn’t mean to make it feel like you had to change anything, or that it was your fault.”

“I know and—”

“Wait, please hear me out. I don’t want to ever make you think that I blame you or Jun for leaving—I-I’m so happy for you guys you don’t understand. I was just … I was bitter,” you admit. “And I was jealous of you because you get to be around my own brother more than me and … I guess I was also jealous of Jun because he gets to be around you so often too.”

You finish your confession by burying your face in your hands, face heating up as you can only imagine the look on his face. He says your name softly, and you peek up at him through the gap between your fingers.

“Hey, no, I get it. I mean, I guess I don’t exactly understand how you’re feeling but I don’t blame you either.”

“I wrote you a letter,” you blurt out, a hand digging into your pocket as it toys around with the folded paper inside. Minghao raises a brow, and you pull it out and hold it in front of him. “Right after you guys left,” you explain as he takes the paper from your hand, carefully unfolding it. “Don’t open it now! That’s … embarrassing. Just read it when I’m not here or something because I might just die out of humiliation.”

When Minghao chuckles, you feel some of the tension in your shoulders dissolve. “Noted,” he murmurs, tucking it into the pocket of his sweats before turning his attention back to you with a more serious expression which has your stomach tying up in knots.

“You know how my job is. I can’t promise how often I’ll be home and when I’ll be able to make time and I know that people leaving hurt you so much and … I guess I just didn’t want to give you hope that I would be able to give you a ‘normal’ relationship, because I can’t, even though I want to. I think when I told you all that, I just—fuck—I hoped that you’d be able to focus on someone better for you.”

You want to cry and tell him that you don’t want someone ‘better,’ but choose to save those words for a different time. “T-then why’d you kiss me that night?” you ask quietly.

“I—” Minghao pauses, looking down as he searches for what he’s about to say. “I only have so much self control.”

You chew on your lip, debating if you should frown or grin at his statement. “So you—you wanted to kiss me?” Minghao responds in a heartbeat.

“Of course I did,” and then he clears his throat, “I wanted to for a while. I still do.”

Chuckling nervously, you start to say, “I don’t kn—”

The air is successfully sucked from your lungs when Minghao slides his hand around your neck, angling your jaw up with his gentle thumb. You think you might just go dizzy from the way he’s touching you until his warm mouth presses against yours, and this is the moment you feel every last muscle in your body let go.

He kisses you softer than the first time, his tongue running against your bottom lip for only a moment before you let your hand grip at his torso instinctively. “Sorry,” Minghao murmurs sheepishly when he breaks away. “Told you. Only so much self control.”

“I-I won’t complain,” you admit quickly, and though you let your hand drop to your side, Minghao keeps his where it is: cradling your cheek. He’s quiet for a moment before whispering again, and the words make your face burn and your heart fly around in circles.

“Can I kiss you again?”

link to smut!

“You have everything? Your tickets?” you ask as you lean against the doorframe. You’re both standing outside your parents house right now, waiting for Jun to finish his last bit of packing (why he was so insistent on you two coming quickly when even he wasn’t ready is still a mystery to you) so you can call over the van to take them to the airport.

Minghao shrugs at you, pulling out his wallet to look through the pockets to double check. As he’s shuffling through them, a familiar piece of paper sticks out and grabs your attention. “You keep my letter in your wallet?”

Minghao nods, seemingly unbothered by your surprise. “Yeah. Where else would I keep it?”

“Well, I don’t know but—”

“It’s a cute letter!” Minghao reasons. “And I like having it with me. Like a little good luck charm.”

You press a kiss to his cheek when he says that, but continue to say, “I don’t get what’s so cute about me getting drunk and writing to you.”

“Okay that part, I don’t like. Seriously. Underage drinking is not cool,” Minghao mutters. “But the rest of the letter is pretty nice I guess,” he teases, tucking his wallet back into his pocket.

“Pretty nice?” you scoff, trying to snatch the wallet back from him to grab your letter. He swipes it away too quickly though, and you’re left pawing at his chest to try and get it back. “You don’t deserve that letter! I put my heart and soul into it!”

“Heart and soul? I think you mean you poured five shots of vodka into it.” You frown deeply, and Minghao relaxes his shoulders. “Okay I’m sorry—you know I love the letter.”

“Do I?” you huff stubbornly, looking at the ground.

Minghao traces a hand down your face and tilts your chin upwards. “C’mon look at me,” he murmurs, and you begrudgingly meet his gaze. “I love the letter.” He pecks you on the lips. “Do you believe me now?”

“You might have to kiss me one more time for that.”

Minghao grins and presses his lips on yours again, a little harder this time. “Good now?”

“Yes—you got lucky.”

“Okay good … but just for extra measures, I have something that might sweeten the deal,” Minghao tells you, pulling a folded paper out of his pocket and handing it to you. Carefully, you take it and unravel it, glancing over the words.

There’s a lot—like a lot—and Minghao’s face flushes as you skim over the paragraphs he wrote, slapping a hand over the paper. “Okay don’t read it in front of me!” he whines, and you beam because history has a tendency to repeat itself.

“Fine, fine,” you sigh, looking down at it one more time when your eyes catch a little note at the bottom.

Pursing your lips, you glance up and find Minghao watching you with wide eyes and a bright smile, and you can’t help but fling yourself into his arms. Your heart swells when you feel him wrap his hands around you rightly pulling him close as the words cast their imprint into your mind.

You’re happy. So, so, so happy.

Yours truly, Xu Minghao (weirdo)

P.S. I love you.

a/n. okay wow i can't believe this is done ... genuinely put so much into this fic i hope u all enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! i definitely might be writing more about these two bc i loved them so much😭 i had like 2 more ideas for a smut in mind but decided not to add them but if you'd be interested in reading them, i might post them as a oneshot/bonus, so lmk what you're interested in! please reblog if u did, and let me know ur thoughts—it would mean a lot to me :3

tags. @synthetickitsune @ixayjun @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @blinkjunhui @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @ming-h0e @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @junhui-recs @ichorjeon (strikethrough could not be tagged)

[eddiesxangel]

Im gonna need u to elaborate on that post abt Eddie holding ur vibrator 'what kinda microphone is this'

You say elaborate… I say I’ll write a whole fic about it 😅😅

But You Don’t Even Like Karaoke? | virgin!eddiemunson x bestfriend!reader

WC 3.3K

CONTENTS WARNING: SMUT

You invited Eddie up for the weekend to your shabby student apartment. You've been away at Indiana State while Eddie was still stuck at Hawkins High complaining about how life in Hawkins has been so shit without you and needed to get away, coming to see you would be the perfect getaway.

Eddie and you had always been close, so when you told your roomies that he was coming to stay they were okay with it, as long as he slept in your room. They didn't want to wake up in the middle of the night to get something and have a random guy on the couch, which was reasonable because they hadn't met him before. They were excited to finally meet your best friend and you planned to go out to the bars tonight after a very long week of midterms.

Eddie arrived late afternoon, you introduced him to your roommates and he settled in.

"It's so sweet you have your own space, we can finally hang out without worrying about Wayne or your parents judging us" Eddie laughed while plopping on your double bed.

"Do you wanna shower before we head out?" You ask.

"Nah I did this morning, I'm okay." He tells you.

"Ok I'm going to pop in, You can entertain yourself until I'm back" You give him a wink and leave him to his devices.

Eddie scanned your new collage room, it reminded him of your old room at your parent's house. You had pictures of you and him framed along with other friends he didn't recognize. He was always a little nosey when it came to you, there weren't any boundaries in place when it came to privacy around Eddie. You had been friends since the 7th grade, growing up together in your awkward years really bonded the both of you.

You'd told Eddie earlier that you had gotten a new strain of pot from one of the guys you're friends with and that he could light up whenever. You'd left out the baggie and your grinder but Eddie left his bong at home and didn't see yours lying around so he searched for some rolling papers. Rifling through your bedside table is where he looked first. He shuffled through your hair ties, random articles, condoms...

Eddie had known you were no longer a virgin like he still was, he has had zero experience, not even a handjob. Needless to say, Eddie doesn’t get any…. Like ever. Poor thing tries his best but most of the girls he’s surrounded by are in high school and he wants nothing to do with them. He wants a grown woman. He really wants you if he is being honest but he never thinks that would happen in a million years.

He still was riffling deep in the drawer now, he felt something soft but firm, round and long. He picks it up to move it out of the way. He looks at what is your black vibrator. Why would she have a microphone? Eddie moved on quickly because he spots what he is looking for buried under all your crap.

Hours go by and you’re stumbling into your apartment laughing around 1:00am. You offered your room for Eddie to get ready for bed while you took the bathroom. Once you're finished you walk back into your room to see Eddie tucked into his side of the bed.

"I meant to ask you earlier but I forgot because we got too high" He laughed.

"Ask away" You crawled into your fresh sheets and snuggled into bed with Eddie.

"Why do you have a microphone?" He asked. You look at him quizzically because you have no idea what he's talking about.

"Are you sure that weed didn't alter your brain?" You laugh as your head hits the pillow.

"What do you mean? I saw it" He laughs.

"Dude I have no idea what you're talking about? Why would I have a microphone? I hate karaok- oof" Eddie cuts you off by leaning all his body weight over you to reach into your nightstand and pulls out your vibrator.

You start laughing uncontrollably, partly because you're a bit embarrassed, and partly from the alcohol.

"What?" Eddie questions inspecting it, once more. you grab it from his hands and turn it on. The object comes to life and a low buzz fills the room.

"Why is it buzzing?" Oh, your sweet innocent Eddie.

"Ummmm think of it more like a massager..." you turn it off and place it back on the nightstand you turn back to Eddie and can see the wheels in his head turning but no gas.

"Ugh, Eddie don't make me say it out loud" You bury your face in your hands and pillows not wanting to look at him when you say it.

"I don't get it, you're going to have to spell it out for me, Ms.University" he nudges your arm with his elbow.

"It's a vibrator Eddie, you know... like for sex"

The room was still dimly lit, enough for you to see Eddie's eyes go wide.

"It’s… it’s a sex toy?" he reaches over you once again to grab it off the nightstand.

“Eddie!” you shout then cover your mouth remembering the time of night.

“Give me that!” You try and grab it out of his hands. This whole situation was weird. You guys never spoke about sex, it just wasn’t that kind of friendship.

Yes, you liked Eddie, you’ve been crushing on him for years but you would never act on it, or at least you don’t think you would? Like a child, Eddie reached his arm up over so you couldn’t get it.

“No come on I’ve never seen one before” he pouts.

“Ok you’ve seen it now give it back!” You weren’t afraid to crawl over him to get it, you straddled his chest, enclosing him between your bare legs.

Your tiny sleep shorts were barely covering your cunt that was practically pressed into Eddie’s face.

“Ah ha!” You say victoriously grabbing it from Eddie’s grip.

Eddie can feel the blood rush from his face and into his cock. He shifts and clears his throat.

“Oh shit, sorry!” You hike your leg over him accident exposing your pussy even more to him.

Eddie’s eyes don’t break from your core. You’re blissfully unaware you just flashed your best friend.

“Sorry Ed’s didn’t realize” you joke.

“Uh yeah, it’s fine” You see Eddie shifting under the covers.

“So you always sleep without panties or is that just because I’m in your bed.” Eddie asks.

“Eddddddddddie oh my god” you burry your head in the pillows debating on sleeping on the couch at this point.

“I love when you moan for me baby” Eddie laughs, you try and hurry yourself further into the bed but Eddie grabs your waist and pulls you into him.

“You know babe, out of the two of us I should be the one mortified. I’m the twenty-year-old virgin not knowing what a sex toy looks like.” He grips into you tighter and you bury your face into his neck.

The alcohol is slowly leaving your system but you still blame it for what happens next.

“You don’t have to be” You timidly kiss into the hollow of where his neck and collarbone meet.

“What are you-oh that feels good” Eddie sighs into your touch, his chest raging and falling at a quicker pace.

“Will you let me take care of you Eddie?” You graze your hand lower down his bare chest, across his stomach down the the waistband of his boxers.

“Yes,” he nods frantically.

You shuffle back over him so you’re once again straddling him. You look down at your best friend, taking in his features, he is so pretty. You lean in timidly to kiss his lips for the first time. His plush lips felt so soft when they connected to yours.

It quickly heats up, you ground your hips into Eddie, you could feel his hard length pressing into your slit and you wiggled your hips on him. You hear a wine come from Eddie’s throat as you disconnect and start to kiss down from his neck to his happy trail.

“I’ve been dying to know what’s under here for years” You graze your hand lightly tracing Eddie’s tented boxers.

Eddie’s hips shoot up at the connection. “Eager aren’t we?” you giggle slowly revealing his length.

“Well you would be too if you’ve waited this long for you.” He sighed.

He was waiting for you.

You’re stomach flops, at his words and your eyes bulge out of your skull at the size of him.

“You’ve been hiding that you have a horse penis from me this whole time?!” You don’t really give Eddie time to answer because you latch your mouth into his tip, not sure how much more you’ll be able to fit into your mouth.

Eddie is in heaven, he isn’t sure what karma he is getting but he knows he must have done something right to have your head between his legs at this very moment.

It’s a feeling that he’s never felt before, the warmth of your mouth, the wetness of your lips mixed with the softness of your tongue was all-encompassing. You felt his hand rest on the back of your head, you looked up at him through your lashes, his face blissed out. Your core was dripping already at the feeling of Eddie in your mouth.

The way you were making him feel good was only making you wetter. You reached up to cup his hand on your head, coxing him to push you down.

“Oh fuck baby, please” he whimpered.

You took in more of him opening your throat for him. You bobbed your head up and down his shaft while using the other hand to move in tandem. You had Eddie whimpering “Oh my god just like that! Fuck you’re taking me so well”

For someone with no experience he sure wasn’t shy about praising you. It only made you want to pleasure him more. You were the first one to ever touch him like this. You were the first one to ever make him feel this euphoric.

“Fuck I’m not going to last long fuckfuckfuck” You were enjoying yourself too much that you didn’t care about what Eddie was telling you, you wanted him to cum, he deserved to cum.

“Wait wait I wanna…shit, I want you to be my first” he gently pushed you off him.

“Really?” You asked.

“Yea… I mean.. if you wanna?” he pants.

“I do Ed’s” but I gotta get myself ready, will you help me? Eddie nods enthusiastically as you lay beside him and he climbs on top of you.

You walked him through what to do, he was a quick learner. He kissed you down your neck like you did to him earlier. He touched you over your shirt at first, a bit shy. You told him he could touch you, and begged him to touch you as you lifted the big sleep shirt over your head. Eddie’s hands immediately latched on to your breasts kneeling them like stress balls.

“Softer please, you’re pinching me” You place your hands on the backs of his to guide him. You tell him that you like it when your nipples are touched.

He bowed his head lower, and tenderly he kissed the swell of your breast

“Is this ok?” He asks.

“Yes Eddie, more of that” he brought his warm mouth around your perked nipple.

“Oh yes,” you arched your back making your breast squish into Eddie’s nose.

Your head spun as he hummed into you, the vibration jolting to your core.

“I uh, don’t know what to do with my hands.” He admitted.

You took his right hand in yours and guided it past your waistband and overtop of your mound.

“Feel me Eddie I’ll tell you what feels good” Eddie’s thick fingers explored your pussy lips, slipping his fingers through your folds he grazes your clit and you jerk at the touch.

One thing about Eddie is that he is very receptive. He does it again to test the waters “oh fuck” you moan.

“You like that baby” his confidence was showing.

“Yes Eddie, fuck keep going”

“So this is what that little toy is for? This spot right here?” You nodded your head not able to speak.

Why was he so good at this?

“Can I try?” He sheepishly asks you.

“Yes, Eddie please” he reaches over to get the vibrator you had left resting on the bed.

“Hold down on the button to turn it on”

“Which one there are three? Why are there three?” He turns it finding the buttons.

“The bottom one, the others are to change the pattern and the speed” You point to the power button.

“Oh,” Eddie smirks.

“Ok playboy let’s not get ahead of ourselves, we will start on level one” The low buzzing filled the room once again.

“I should take off my shorts…” you awkwardly suggested.

You hook your fingers into the waistband and wiggle your hips up and out.

“Ok so, just put it where you put your fingers before” you guide him by the wrist.

The vibrator makes contact with your swollen clit. “Oh god yes!” You arch your back in pleasure.

The feeling of the buzzing on your clit shot waves of euphoria through you. Eddie couldn’t wipe the Cheshire Cat smile off of his face. Having you at his mercy could have him busting a nut here and now.

Eddie kissed you while holding down the vibrator like his life depended on it. You were starting to get squirmy, your hips gyrated into him

“More Eddie, you moaned into his mouth.

“What do you want?” He asks

“Your fingers, please” you wine.

He stops kissing you, you can see the nervous look in his eyes.

“It’s okay Eddie you won’t hurt me.” You brush a piece of hair behind his ear.

A shaky hand grazed your slick folds and pushed up slowly and back out again, he repeated that until you showed him what to do next.

“That’s it Eds” you sighed into his mouth.

“Now go like this” You wiggled your index and middle finger in a come hither motion.

The coil in your lower stomach was getting tighter with each pump of his fingers you were being wound up until it snapped, Eddie feels your walls clench down in him and the thought of you doing that with his cock inside you only got him even more excited.

“Oh fuck yes Eddie!” You cried out with pleasure. Your heavy breaths and the low buzz of the vibrations filled the room.

“Woah” Edd breaks the silence,

“It’s-too much Eds” You push his hand away that was still holding the toy to your sensitive clit.

“oh shit sorry” he throws it to the side of the bed and captures your lips into another kiss.

You break the kiss to reach over to the nightstand and grab your condoms.

“Holly shit this is really happening,” Eddie says under his breath but you hear him.

“If you still want to yeah” You sit up on your knees and tell Eddie to get on his back.

“I’ll be on top to start you off ok, Then if you want to switch let me know.”

He nods his head like a kid who was asked if they wanted their favourite ice cream. You push Eddie’s shoulder back so he is propped up just a little on the pillows you straddle him again getting yourself situated.

“You wanna put it on or do you want me to?” You raise your brows at him.

“I’ll uh-I’ll do it” he clears his throat. You pass him the blue foiled pack and he expertly slips it over himself.

“You practice this before?” You giggle, he tells you to shut up and you raise up to your knees you grip his solid length in your hand.

You slowly sink down onto him, and Eddie lets out a guttural moan. You cup a hand over his mouth, you don’t want to wake up your roomies.

“Shhhhhhh” you sink down slowly, the way he is stretching you out makes you feel so full. You finally make it all the way to the hilt.

“You okay” you ask Eddie. That was a silly question, of course, he is okay. You start by grinding your hips releasing your hand from his mouth.

“Yea, more than ok baby.” You started to bounce on his cock, the way he was stretching you felt otherworldly.

“Fuck that’s it, so good f’me” he grits out.

He really had confidence for someone’s first time, but that was because he was with you.

“Fuck Eddie you’re so big” You let your head fall back.

The sight in front of Eddie only brought him closer to the brink. Your tight, hot cunt swallowing him, your tits bouncing in his face, he was so close.

Eddie remembered what you said about your nipples being sensitive, he leans forward and latches on. Your eyes roll back in your head at the sensation. The room is filled with the sound of pants and skin slapping skin.

“Yes! Eddie yes yes yes” You grab the back of his head and tug on his hair.

He lets out a moan, so you do it again. Eddie loves it when you tug on his locks.

“Fuck baby I’m not gonna last much longer.” He tilts his head up to kiss you, he slips his tongue in your mouth.

You are all-encompassed by Eddie, no one else on earth matters but him in this moment.

You let out a small yelp when Eddie unexpectedly flips you on your back. He was feral, he never had felt this before in his life he had to hold on a bit longer, needing to savour this feeling forever.

The new position forced his cock to hit your walls at a better angle. He bends your legs so they are by your ears. The look in his eyes has you swimming, he is consumed by you, and he watches his cock disappear in and out of your walls.

“Fuck Eddie I’m close, touch me please” Eddie didn’t think twice about grabbing the vibrator.

The memory of your velvety walls clench his fingers and drove him to make sure you were the first to cum. He needed you to cum on his cock like he needs air in his lungs.

Eddie hammered into you at a pace much faster than you were capable of while riding him. The tingling of the vibrations shook through your core, in less than a minute you were cumming on his cock.

You open your mouth to scream with pleasure but nothing comes out, your body shakes with pleasure as your second orgasm consumes you.

The second you clenched down on Eddie he was cumming with you. An animalistic groan leaves Eddie’s throat as his hot ropes of cum spill into the condom.

Eddie collapses onto you with a breathy laugh.

“Oh my god why did I wait so long to do this” he giggled into the crook of your neck.

“Because you never made a move!” You joke back. Eddie pecks your face with a million and one kisses.

“Fuck, sweetheart can we do that again?” He rests his head on your chest, looking at you with those baby cow eyes.

He grabs your hand and brings it to his chin.

“Sure Eds we can do that as many times as you want” Eddie didn’t give you a chance to to recover before he pounced on you for round two….

Master list

[hobies-princealbert]

The way im still thinking about plug!fontaine 😵‍💫😵‍💫. Now i cant help but think about Hobie and the reader getting high together for the first time (it would be her first mostly). The way u described that shotgun part in that fic was so good. And it’d hit even more different if Hobie is usually the one getting you all flustered and now you’re high off ur ass and sum purring so now u just start teasing him and saying things he likes AHH I LOVE HOBIE 🤭🤭🤭

Me toooooooo ( ^-^)ノ∠※。.:*:・'°☆ I hope I didn't stray tooooo far from the request lol

☆

high! hobie brown x high! reader | ( obvi nsfw 18+)

▪︎•▪︎●▪︎•▪︎●▪︎•▪︎●▪︎•▪︎●▪︎•▪︎●▪︎•▪︎●▪︎•▪︎●▪︎•▪︎●▪︎•▪︎●▪︎•▪︎●▪︎•▪︎●▪︎•▪︎●▪︎•▪︎●▪︎•▪︎●▪︎•▪︎●▪︎•▪︎●

▪︎• you couldn't really give an explanation for why you haven't smoked weed, eaten an edible, done mushrooms or at least gotten high off your shit at least once. you weren't against them, in fact, you knew a lot about them and their medical purposes and benefits. but you still haven't try em.

▪︎• which is surprising cause most of the people you hang around consumed weed. some on a regular basis. and that includes your boyfriend. hell, you met hobie while he was smoking a joint on the balcony of some random house party.

▪︎• you remembered how when he asked if you wanted a hit, you broke into a stutter trying to explain why you declined. he just gave an understanding nod, then pulled his spliff back to rest in between his lips.

▪︎• you felt sorta insecure about it. even though it wasn't that big of a deal to anyone around you. it was to you. you felt like you were missing out on something. this feeling hit you most whenever you watched hobie smoke.

▪︎• you sat on the opposite end of the couch watching as hobie made a joint. his nimble fingers wrapped the paper so easily. like it was second nature. with a quick lick to seal, he had the blunt ready. it rested perfectly between his pretty lips as he searched his vest for a lighter. you wanted it.

"can I get a hit hobie?" he paused his search to turn his attention to you. he looked at you for a bit before he gave you a slight smirk.

▪︎• once he found where that lighter was, he motioned for you to sit closer. you did. you watched intensely as the orange glow of the fire made this all too real. you actually gonna taste your first blunt. and with your boyfriend no less.

▪︎• you felt the familiar feeling of his warm, coarse hands cupping your chin. and the other around your waist, tugging you closer to him. hobie pulled till you were seated on his lap.

▪︎• you were practically pressed to him. you felt the warmth of the blunt, sat between his lips, on the side of your face. you could tell how the blunt would taste from the second hand smoke alone.

"nothin' to be scared of doll. this shi' gonna make you feel real good, trust." he returned your quick nod, then you watched as he inhaled and pulled the blunt from his lips.

▪︎• hobie blew a cloud of smoke in your face, you quickly gathered your senses and inhaled what he gave you. you felt your breath stifle, then the coughs came. you wanted to move back, but his hold on you chin kept you in place.

▪︎• he wanted you to hold still. no running. just taking what he gives no complaints. he knows it's overwhelming, but let him do this. in no time he's gonna have you taking shotguns while he's giving you backshots.

▪︎• he did this multiple times, each time giving you a kiss each time you did better. once he was satisfied, he moved the spliff to your lips. you eagerly took a sharp inhale of smoke. you burst into a fit of coughs. it was embarrassing. you were doing so good. probably you inhaled too hard.

hobie was patting and soothing your back. once the coughs died down, he coached your breaths till they were steady again. "got a little excited huh luv?"

▪︎• he made you get a second inhale this time, he pulled it back once you had enough. you took a couple more with barely a reaction, except for the little stings in your eyes.

▪︎• he was right you do feel so much more relaxed. you rested your head in the crook of his shoulder, tracing little shapes in his jaw. he hummed whenever you would suck a little too hard at his neck, or moved your hips about too much on his lap. even a couple whispered ' you're pretty baby' and 'my gorgeous 'obie'. you giggled at how bashful he looked. he never got shy.

▪︎• you don't know where your sudden urge for sex, or confidence came from. but you loved it. and so did hobie, especially since he was pushing your hips to rutt against his bulge even more.

" 's the weed makin' you act up huh darlin'. I kno'. it's 'ight, I feel it too. mhmm fuck- should do this more often huh? yea?"

▪︎• despite you teasing earlier, you could barely answer him verbally. you were too preoccupied trying to soothe your ache. you knew he could feel your cunt even through the layers of fabric. and you surely felt him too. if it wasn't for the clothes his tip would be pressed into you by now.

▪︎• soon you two became too impatient for the frivolous grinding. and that's how you found yourself with your back against his chest, legs splayed, your panties pulled to the side and hobie's cock slapping against your slit.

▪︎• you two were absolutely spent, just from the sensations alone. 'why wasn't he in you yet fuck. this shit hurts, it's just working you more.' sure the slapping was hot, but it wasn't gonna cut it.

"b-baby?"

"yea darlin'? what's wrong? too much?" you gave a let out a frustrated whine, he soon realized what his baby wanted. and he was more than happy to oblige.

▪︎• you watched as he dangled the blunt in front of you. once you took it between you lips. he gave you once last kiss on the cheek, and told you that he'll stop when the blunt goes out.

▪︎• you felt your entire body seize up as his full was slammed into you. you've taken him unprepped before, but not from his angle. the stretch was different it was like his length was pushing down in you. it felt so good.

▪︎• he kept his promise and didn't stop till the blunt finished. no matter how the ash was knocked onto your tits, he pulled out your bra just so he could grope them. no matter how you whined at how sore you were, or that his couch was messy from how much slick he forced out of you. no matter how much you babbled to him in words not even you could understand. he'd just nod along like he understood you.

▪︎• once the blunt flickered once last time, you let out a groan once you felt his length ease out. sure you were just crying that you couldn't take anymore but you also couldn't help but squeeze one last time.

▪︎• you knew you were both still high as a kite. you lazily lounged on his couch, till the high sensation ceased. once it did you made him swear to smoke with you again tomorrow, you're lucky that's the day his plug was gonna hit him up.

[redsrooftopprincess]

I love absolutely everything you've posted for Raph, and I was reading through your disability HC again, and if you have time. Could you do a small fic or headcanons of Raphael getting a massage from his beautiful to help relieve some of his pain?

I'M SO SORRY I tried to write this THREE TIMES THREE DIFFERENT WAYS and make it sweet and heartfelt....

But the boy wanted smut.

Where There's Smoke

Fem reader x Raphael

🌶️🌶️🌶️

Warnings: marijuana, smut

If you're a minor *makes a shooing motion* go'way.

The cloud you exhale hangs in the air, curling around the lamplight. You sit in the warm comfort of your apartment, sat sideways, legs draped over Raphael's lap on the loveseat. He reaches over and plucks the joint from your outstretched hand.

"mmm..." you say, smiling, as he takes a long drag. You lean your head against the back of the couch, and close your eyes with a sigh, as the indica flows through your system and washes away a truly shitty week.

When you open them, he is exhaling nearly half the joint. You laugh and wave the smoke out of your face. It look a lot to get the turtles high. Mike and Donnie were still working on a strain powerful enough to do the job, but it was slow going and more of a fun pet project than a priority.

However, you know better than to take more than one *small* hit of the boys' weed. You only had to make that mistake once.

You love nights like this. His very rare nights off, when it's just the two of you hanging out in your apartment. When you could convince him to smoke with you it was even better, because, for a few hours, his pain was a little more manageable.

You swing your legs off of him and he groans quietly when you push off of his thigh to stand up. "Shit! I'm sorry! Are you okay?"

He laughs gently, "Yeah. No, it's fine. Felt good, actually." He sighs, "Rough week."

You tilt your head to the side and look down at him for a moment before your eyes narrow the corner of your mouth turns up slowly. He knows that look. You have an idea.

He's a little more than slightly worried as he watches you dash out of the living room and down the hall into the bathroom. There is a reason you and Donnie are best friends. This could go in literally any direction. You return a few moments later with a bottle in hand.

You walk around to the front of the couch and, tug on his jeans, "Lose 'em," you say. It wasn't weird for him to get comfortable at your house. You'd patched him up enough times that seeing him in his underwear was pretty normal.

You set down the bottle of lotion on the coffee table, and walk away to grab a towel. He squeezes his eyes shut and rubs his forehead when the realization hits him. "(Y/N), you really don't have to do this."

You ignore him, and return, setting the towel on the table.

He sighs, sitting up, "Seriously, (Y/N) you don't have to do this -"

"Shut up." You say firmly, but not unkindly, looking up from what you're doing. His beak snaps shut. You didn't get firm with him often, so when you did, he paid attention. "You do everything for everyone else, let someone take care of you for once." The gaze you held had no room for argument, and he sighs and stands up, removing his jeans. He gives you an exasperated look during the entire process.

You can't help but steal a glance at his thighs as he sits back down. The way the muscles move beneath his scarred scales makes your mouth water.

To say you are holding a torch for the terrapin would be a lie. It's more like a barely controlled forest fire. He was beautiful in so many ways, and if it didn't make him so uncomfortable you would compliment his body more often.

You instruct him to rest one foot on the coffee table and you straddle his leg, knowing that making any kind of difference was going to require a lot more strength than was in your hands.

"Y/N..."

You reach forward and flick the middle of his forehead without looking, while you snatch the bottle off of the coffee table with your other hand.

"Ow! Hey! What the hell was that for?!" He exclaims, rubbing his head.

"I heard you the first time," you say casually, not looking up from pouring the lotion into your palm.

You rub lotion between your hands to warm it up, before pressing your hands down just above his knee and using nearly your entire weight to push along his quad.

"mmm fuck..." He groans, sinking back further in the couch, no longer interested in protesting as his eyes fall closed. You press your lips together, trying to ignore how hot that was and failing miserably.

In your intoxicated state, you may not have thought this whole thing through.

You had been growing closer. You're not sure when it happened, but touches have become softer, hugs longer. You drift to each other's side, even if you start out on opposite ends of a room. It was something both of you noticed, and neither of you acknowledged.

Your friendship has continued as if nothing has changed, but mundane moments are becoming more intimate, and intimate moments more frequent, and right now you were straddling his thigh and the soft groans and sighs you were pulling from him with every ministration were doing nothing for your composure.

Between the weed and the massage, this is the most relaxed he's felt in a while. He thinks to himself that he's going to have to do something really nice for you later.

You, however, are experiencing the exact opposite effect. The drug has made your body more sensitive, and with every brush of his leg between yours as you move along his thigh, ripples of sensation move up and out. You really hope he's too high to notice you shiver.

He shifts his weight, raising his leg, and accidentally brushing against your core. The small sound that escapes you makes both of you freeze.

That tiny sound, barely louder than a whisper had gone off like a gun shot in his head, shutting down every other one of his senses that wasn't completely honed in on you. There was no way that actually just happened, right?

He looks down at you, while you look away, face burning. There's no way he doesn't know your into him now, and now you've made things weird and awkward. You try to come up with a way to brush off what just happened, terrified of what he must think of you.

The only thing he's thinking is that whatever he has to do to get you to make that sound again, he's gonna to do it. And then he's gonna do it again.

Taking your chin in his hand, he turns you to face him as he places the other on your waist. Holding your gaze with a curious expression, your heart pounds as he pulls his leg off the table so that his foot is on the floor.

He flexes, his thigh pressing into you, and you shut your eyes, drawing a shuddering breath as you feel a flood of warmth at your core. You scent blooms upward into him and his grip around your waist tightens, while his other hand also falls to your waist. When you open your eyes, he is looking down at you with a dark smirk. That was all the validation he needed.

He pulls you up and then back against his thigh, watching your eyes fall closed and your mouth fall open. Your breathing stutters as your hips involuntarily rock against him. When he presses up harder against you, a moan is torn from your throat and you have to brace yourself on his leg.

He grabs the leg in between his own and pulls you up and it over, so that you're straddling his waist. He crashes his lips to yours, the weed making everything hazy and dream-like, and you open to him gladly, tangling his tongue with your own.

His hands slide up your waist, and you only separate for a moment, to help him remove your shirt, before crashing back into him like a wave. When you rock your hips against the growing bulge in his boxer briefs, his mouth is ripped from yours in a groan.

You reach for him, almost desperately, to bring his mouth back to yours, but he removes his hands from your waist and places them on your shoulders to stop you, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Wait... Sweetheart..." He's panting and trembling and it's taking all his restraint to not buck his hips into you, "If we keep going, this is gonna happen... And I need to know it's not just the weed. That this is really what you want..."

He looks at you and everything in him was screaming to just take you. You've wanted her since the day you met. She's ready. She's *more* than willing... but he's not an animal. And if it's not what you actually want it would ruin your friendship.

You look up at him in disbelief, also trembling. Sliding a hand to the back of his neck, you pull him down to you, brushing your lips against his with a whispered, "It is."

You're not sure when or how you ended up against the wall, with him grinding his thigh against your cunt, but you are not complaining. In fact, the only intelligible thought screaming through your veins at the moment is

MORE.

You grind hard against him, clenching around nothing, and in a moment it feels like you might drown in the emptiness. You whimper into his mouth. "Raph... Please..."

He doesn't need to be asked twice. He carries you to your bedroom, his mouth never leaving yours, and lays you on the bed. Detaching your legs from him he grabs the waistband of your cotton shorts and and removes them and your soaked panties in one motion

He looks at you, for just a moment, naked and trembling and wanting HIM, and he commits the sight to memory, before smirking like the devil and diving in like a man starved.

"Fuck! " you cry, arching, as he licks a stripe up your cunt, drinking your arousal like wine, savoring you on his tongue. You're already so sensitive. His tongue swirls around your clit and you shudder as pleasure ripples through your body.

He licks up your slit again and again, before pulling your thighs further apart and fucking you with his tongue. The soft feeling of his tongue curling inside you lights up your nervous system like a Christmas tree, and soon you're a trembling, whimpering mess.

You almost protest as his tongue leaves you, but it's quickly replaced by an oversized digit pushing into you slowly. His tongue returns to your clit, swirling and sucking, devouring you as the cord inside your center winds tighter.

Curling his finger up, and finding that secret spot inside of you, you feel as though you'd fall apart if he wasn't holding you together.

The cord pulls tight, and with a gasp, snaps. You come undone. With your hand on the back of his head, your moans ricocheting off the walls, you ride out your release.

You come back to consciousness as he's crawling up your body, having removed the last barrier between you. He attacks your throat, licking and scenting, giving you no time to recover, his instincts screaming for him to mark you as HIS.

His lips return to yours as he slides his own arousal against your folds, coating himself in your slick. He moans softly at your warmth and finally starts pushing into you slowly.

The way he stretches you fills you completely, and every inch feels like embers scattering through your body. You wrap your arms around his neck and press your forehead to his, whimpering and shuddering as he bottoms out.

He stills for a moment, trembling, attempting to control this breathing, not wanting this to be over before it starts.

With a shuddering breath he moves so slowly, pulling all the way out before returning to sheathe himself inside of you. He gradually finds his rhythm, and you move together pushing and pulling like a bellows, feeding the scattered sparks inside you.

He slides a hand under your thigh, hitching it up to go deeper.

As his speed increases, the embers catch inside your skin and set you alight. It almost feels like you can't breath for the fire in your veins, but you are somehow able to moan his name, so you're probably okay.

Keening moans escape you, and he swallows them greedily, kissing you with everything he has and everything he's ever wanted. Kissing you as if by doing so he could convince you to stay like this forever.

You feel your release building, and by the stuttering groans and whispers of your name, you can tell his isnt far behind.

You reach up and touch his face, and he lifts his head to look at you, never slowing. You wanted him to see, to know that you were there with him, that you were his.

You gasp, and with a cry you arch into him as the fire consumes you. He wraps an arm around you, holding you against him as he follows suit, moaning your name into your shoulder as he spills himself into you.

After a moment to catch your breath, you shiver as he pulls himself from you. Lying on his side to face you, he reaches out and pulls you to him holding you, breathless, as you both come down from your high.

Foreheads touching, eyes closed, you just breath each other in, both of you in kind-of-but-not-really disbelief.

He lifts his head and looks down at you. You open your eyes to meet his, and they shine with affection and gratitude and maybe something deeper, but that was a conversion for a different day.

"So..." he says softly, "when are we gonna do the other leg?" He grins as you laugh and slap him half-heartedly on the chest.

"You're a dick."

"You love it."

.....

He's not wrong.

.....

Tag list:

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll

[itsonlydana]

where snow falls and conversation strikes | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader 👑

Your train gets caught in a snowstorm and when the first class gets moved into the normal compartments, a beautiful man asks to sit with you

warnings/tags: modern(ish)!AU, First Meetings, Fluff

wordcount: 3,7k

an: wrote this mostly on the train on my way to work every morning so it took a while and suddenly its 25° c and not 0°c anymore... oops? and lets ignore that my layout for fics is not even close to uniformly

+ masterlist + rules + read the fic on ao3 +

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

The view outside the train window was white in its purest form. The mush of white flakes went from gently landing on the glass to completely covering it, obscuring everything behind an opaque wall. 

A few hours ago it had been a wonderful sight of frost-tipped mountains, sloping meadows, and high-risen forests that made the long journey not only bearable but quite enjoyable. The hours had flown by just like the landscape, yet – as the newspapers had predicted it would happen – the gray clouds coming in from the seaside had caught up with the train weaving through the country and now, ever so slowly, it lost its speed. 

It couldn't have been long to the city. The last stop had been a while ago and if it weren't for the clouds hanging so low, coloring the sky ashen and the snow that just wouldn't stop falling, you could have probably seen the first small villages that dotted the outside of the city.

The train slowing down had been inevitable, you had known as much when you had boarded earlier this morning, though you had hoped to arrive at the destination fast enough that you would have outrun this weather.

Back in the city, back home, the weather would have been a small inconvenience but nothing that would hold you back.

The old speakers crackled just as you adjusted your seat, bringing forth another storm though this one ravaged through the inside: 

"We're mighty sorry 'bout this bother, but we kindly ask for yer patience. We've been movin' at a snail's pace 'cause of this darn weather, and now we're told we gotta face this blasted snowstorm 'fore we can carry on."

Even through the walls of your compartment, you heard the groaning and moaning of the other passengers. 

It wasn't surprising, the decision to travel onward would be foolish – everyone on this train knew – but the times you did travel like this you found that people seemed to bond over these expressions of annoyance toward something no one could be blamed for. The annoyed grunts that were passed along the rows with an eye roll made up for hours of silence daring the others to interrupt their own peaceful silence.

Your sigh fogged up the window, and you let your head fall back against the cushions, fixating your gaze on the white haze outside when the scruffy voice continued speaking after clearing his throat: 

"As it's damn impossible to know how long this weather's gonna last or whether it'll get worse, we kindly ask our first-class guests in the rear carriages to come through to the front. Heating there could be gone any minute. Make room for 'em. You'll of course be helped with your luggage."

Knowing that there is not much else to do than to sit back and wait, you picked up the book you had been reading, a collection of short stories by your favorite author that you knew by heart yet the familiar words provided comfort and you were quickly far away in those lands described.

Before you could finish the story you had left on though, a noise startled you and pulled you right back. The door of your compartment slid open by a tall man peeping his head in. 

"Good evening, forgive the intrusion, but might I trouble you for a moment? I was told I could find a seat here. Would that be alright?" The man raised his shoulder to stop the bag he was carrying from sliding down, it wouldn't do what he wanted and slipped to his elbow.

He was beautiful, despite the distressed look on his face that was covered by his long blonde hair falling into it as he glared at the bag; on its way down his arm, it had taken the coat he had hung over it with it so that it dangled close to the carpet floor of the train. 

You stared at him long enough that he arched a thick dark eyebrow and you flinched. 

"Oh, yes.. yes of course!" You prayed that your cheeks weren't as red as you feared they might be as you nodded.

There was enough space inside the compartment, your suitcase was pushed under your seat and the bench across from you had been free, but you felt the need to look like you would make room for him.

Since there was nothing in the way, really, all you did was pull the bag next to you closer and kick away a piece of lint that stuck to the carpet. 

"Thank you," the man slipped inside, coat, bag, and another suitcase dangling from his long arms.

You tried to look busy and lifted your book high up to your face while he stowed his suitcase away, a sleek dark blue leather one that unlike yours had no stickers on it or clothes sticking out. Then he entangled the coat from the bag to hang it on the door before he turned and stared at you. 

"Can… can I help you?" you asked when he remained silently scrutinizing you.

His eyes were an icy hue of blue and you would have compared them to the snowy weather outside, cold and unmoving, if there weren't the slightest hints of nervousness in them. 

"I don't want to inconvenience you any further but" – he swallowed and lifted a hand to brush some hair away, revealing the faintest of blushes on his high cheekbones– "I fear that I can't stomach traveling backward very well. Would you mind switching places or I could sit beside-"

"It's fine!" you interrupted him. Just him standing there seemed to affect the man quite a bit, he was swaying even though there was no movement, and what harm would it cause you to switch places?

You quickly gathered your back, closing the book with your thumb in between to mark the page you had left on and smiled at him as you sat down on the other side. "It's no problem at all, I have no preferences where I like to sit."

The upholstery was chilly under you and your legs groaned as you moved them for those few steps for the first time in hours instead of just folding them over each other

The man sat down, mumbling a soft "Thank you". His legs were long enough to brush against yours before he angled them toward the window, his slender hands resting on his lap. 

Silence fell just like the snow, with the man growing as still as a statue, his eyes hefted outside the window, and you finding a comfortable position to get back to your book.

Despite your best efforts to concentrate on the poetry, your mind couldn't stop straying to the man.

He must be one of the first-class-traveler, you would have noticed him on your short walks through the train whenever you got bored or had grown restless. 

His hair stood out, worn long enough to brush past his shoulders and over the cream-knitted sweater he wore, and then there were his eyebrows, the only dark spot of color in a face that could have been cut out of marble. He certainly looked expensive. He made the impression of a man who owned his own – equally perfect – bust.

He suddenly turned his head, not by much but he caught you looking at him nonetheless. Like a deer in headlights, your mouth simply fell open in a forgotten lie to excuse yourself for staring.

Thankfully he didn't comment on it, instead, his rosé lips curved into a smile.

"I'm Thranduil, by the way. I think I should tell you so that you have a name to complain about the stranger who not only stormed into your compartment but took your seat as well" He held out his hand. 

You took it after a relieved breath. His fingers were cold, his grip firm.  "Nice to meet you Thranduil," you introduced yourself and noted how his fingers flitted over your racing pulse point at your wrist, "Don't worry, I'd be a fool to moan about having a conversation partner, you've done nothing but turn this boring journey interesting"

"Ah, but you haven't realized how awful I am at small talk. I make a dreadful conversationalist," he admitted with a laugh and let go of your hand.

"We could simply skip that part then," you offered boldly and finally closed your book in your lap. "Tell me, what stop did you get on?"

He arched an eyebrow at you and rested his elbows on the table between you, placing his chin on the intertwined fingers. "What? You want to know where I came from and not were I'm going?" 

You shook your head, "No, I'll see where you have to get off, this is much more interesting."

Thranduil looked at you for a moment, his eyes taking you in like he wanted to figure you out. Then he huffed, giving in. "I got on right at the first stop," –you smiled, encouraging him to continue talking, which he did, his lips twitching to a smirk– "I stayed in Laketown with a friend over the holidays, but I didn't want to impose on him any longer."

"So you brought this weather with you?" You grinned.

"Oh, one hundred percent," he said, sounding so serious that you nearly giggled, "I had so much fun shoveling snow every morning for ten days that I simply wanted to continue at home." Thranduil tipped his head to the side, examining you once again. "And you?"

"God no, I don't get to pick up any tools while I'm on vacation," you said, knowing full well that's not what the question was about.

"No?" 

"No," you sighed, "Try being the youngest at the family reunion. I'm glad my parents let me shower and dress myself. Gosh, I think they would've cried if I even thought about helping with the snow."

Amusement lit up his face, lifting all his sharp features. "Tell that to my friend's little one. She's a fierce thing; knocking at my door at sunrise all dressed up and threatening me with her shovel that I better be outside before she had to come again."

"Oh my! Say, whatever was she threatening to do instead?"

Thranduil chuckled and shook his head, "I didn't stay long enough in bed to find out." 

A knock sounded from the door, interrupting the conversation as an older woman opened your compartment. "Hiya, loves. May I offer you some tea? Dreadful weather outside and with the heating back there gone completely, we don't want ya to catch a cold," she said.

"Ye–"

"We'll take two cups," Thranduil's directive voice overshadowed yours, there was an authority in it that even you wouldn't want to cross. He was already pulling a fancy black wallet out of his pockets, which produced a fresh note that gave no room to argue or chip in. "Keep the change," he said while the train service employee shuffled inside and placed a tablet on the table between you.

"Thank you, Sir Oropherion!" She beamed at him and slipped the note through the buttons of her blouse, "You're always too kind!" Then she turned to you and lowered her voice in a faux-whisper: "He's just as handsome as he's single. But you didn't hear that from ol' me." 

Thranduil scoffed, though you could see a faint blush on his cheeks. "You are a horrible gossip, Hilda! Go bother some of the other passengers or they'll freeze to death."

A little bit louder and glaring toward Thranduil, she added: "A shame his attitude is like the weather; he could use a sweetheart like you.

With a last wink, she turned and left you to stare after her, wondering what just happened.

"Impossible, that woman." 

Thranduil's low rumble pulled you back to him, leaving that poor – now again shut – door alone before your eyes drilled a hole through the wood in search of an explanation.  

The man across from you didn't offer you one either, instead, he was reaching for one of the silver spoons that the woman, Hilda, had given to you as well as a cup filled with milk and a small tower of cookies. 

Somehow you had the feeling this wasn't what the other customers would get but rather a gesture of whatever fondness the woman pledged to the blonde, who used the tiny tongs to drop two cubes of sugar into his cup.

"So," you said and cleared your throat. Thranduil looked up, nearly killing you on the spot with the daggers in his eyes daring you to speak on the matter. Of course, who would you be if you shied away because of that? "She seemed lovely. A friend of yours?"

"No. No, she's not," Thranduil said. He pushed the other cub toward you, encouraging you to take from the all-paid-for beverage. 

You wrapped both hands around it, marveling how beautifully and frail the cup looked and felt, and after taking a small sip, you smiled benevolently and waited for Thranduil to continue. 

He rolled his eyes, admitting defeat in his thickheadedness of remaining aloof. "I travel this route to Laketown quite a lot. Once a month, sometimes two or three times, or whenever my schedule allows me to actually. That woman made it her personal mission to get on my last nerve; chatting to me and leaving me sweets and tea without me asking for it. After a while, I could at least get her to accept my money for it. She's keen on finding me my soulmate so I no longer travel this much alone."

"Aw, but that's cute," you said and drank another sip of the hot tea. You didn't know what burned more, the tea or Thranduil's hardened eyes, "What? She looks out for you; the journey is long and she just doesn't want to be lonely." 

"Whyever you feel the need to defend her is unfathomable," he scoffed as if you taking Hilda's side was the most outrageous thing he'd ever heard, "You don't even know if her accusations are true– if I'm lonely. Maybe I like traveling alone!" Thranduil placed the cup back onto the tray with such an energetic movement, that it clinked. His lips twitched.

"That…" you started and nodded toward the cup, "was far too defensive. Why, Thranduil, it's no shame to admit to something, especially not to a stranger." His expression was still unreadable though the sharp line of his jaw protruded even more like he was biting down on his teeth. You made sure to keep your tone lighthearted: "Dare I say this is even the perfect chance to get it off your chest? Who knows if we will see each other again. Time to spill all your deep, dark and dirty secrets."

He fixated you with his cold blue eyes. Your words had left an impression on him, that much was clear and you would even go so far to say he was considering them. 

Thranduil made a sound close to a "Humpf!" and you smiled and nodded, pushing him evidently over the edge for he rolled his eyes, clasped his hands together and leaned back into the cushions.

"Very well," he sighed though clicked his tongue as he saw your satisfied smirk, "You are right, traveling alone can–" lifting one finger, he punctuated the word "get a bit lonely. Not to say it's like that every time but I find that this conversation, despite the uncalled-for nosiness on behalf of my private life, makes it a lot more enjoyable than the hours I spent in the first class."

"Aww," you waved off in false modesty, "that's such a sweet way of saying I basically rescued you from a death of boredom."

"Bit of an overstatement"

"Okay, first-class, no need to knock my ego down like that." 

"Anyone ever tells you how cheeky you are?"

You smiled brightly, "All the poor, single, and handsome men I chat up on these travels."

Thranduil laughed out and shook his head more for himself than anything else. He extended his hand towards his cup once more, coinciding with the moment you brought your tea to your lips.

As your gazes met over the rising steam of porcelain, the black tea seemed to carry a subtle sweetness reminiscent of the shared smile between you, if only for a fleeting moment.

Or maybe it was the sugar, combined with the subtle loneliness that was your own travel companion nowadays, a constant bitterness coating your tongue. 

No matter what, another sip of tea flushed it down. 

"Now," Thranduil cleared his throat and dabbed the sleeve of his sweater at the corner of his mouth where a small drop of tea rested next to a shy smile. The tea disappeared – the smile stayed. "Do you want to tell me where you are going?" 

The answer was simple, you just had to tell him the name of your station, but you hesitated. 

This felt too good to be true, and maybe, if you disappeared without giving him any real information, there wouldn't be the urge to keep your eyes open when you arrived home, hoping he would be looking for that mystery woman he met on the train. 

Before the moment passed for far too long to be deemed anything but awkward, the train jolted. First, there was this one tug, then another one, and then, right when you looked up at Thranduil and understanding passed across his face like a ghost, appearing and disappearing right again, the wheels set in motion.

"Seems like we're off again," Thranduil said quietly, turning his face to the window.

He cleared his throat and you watched him swallow, not breaking away from the fuzziness outside that mirrored what you felt in your stomach right now. He was beautiful, even with that sadness settling heavy on his shoulders.

Why you couldn't just offer a piece of yourself now that he has given you some of him, that you didn't understand yourself because this trip had been the loveliest in a long time, the conversation quick and easy and nothing like the pestering questions about your romantic life that your brothers and your mother had poured over you, and while yes, you just met him, there was a connection between you. 

More than strangers on a train.

And you wanted it, so so much.

To have someone by your side wherever you go. 

"Thranduil–" you spoke so suddenly you not only startled Thranduil; the sound of your own voice frightened you as well.

"Yes?"

"This thing working again? Ah yes, now yer can hear me 'gain. Darn line cut off for a moment there. Next stop, Mirkwood Central Station, arriving in 'bout five minutes. We apologize for the delay 'n hope y'all get to your destination safely. To all those leavin' us: Remember to grab all your things before ya go. Hope to see y'all again real soon." 

The rest of the sentence died on your lips as you listened to the announcement. How they managed to be on time when you needed another delay, another moment to sort out your thoughts was an unwanted miracle.

Right when you wanted to panic and quickly pack up the book you hadn't opened up again, Thranduil got to it first.

"Five… five minutes?" he gasped and jumped out of his seat, knocking his long legs into the table resulting in you both reaching for the rattling cups trying to stop them from crashing down, hands brushing just enough for you to nearly smash the pot of sugar away as well.

"Wait. This is your stop?" 

Thranduil nodded, already throwing his coat on. "Yes, oh it's such a shame! I had hoped we had more time to finish our tea." He threw a sad glance at the half-empty cups; although the switch to look at you spoke of a far greater regret than simply leaving two cups of tea behind.

A laugh burst out of you, taking both of you by such surprise that you wondered if it had come off as discouraging or far worse: like you were making fun of him.

You hastened to explain: "This is my stop as well!" – the wide smile that shot to his eyes turned into a smirk – "This is me, Mirkwood Central. So if you want–" you interrupted yourself by standing up and grabbing your jacket, "we could get a tea later?"

"Yes!" Thranduil said quickly, "Yes, I would love to. Do you have any plans for the rest of the evening?" 

You copied his smile. "The rest of the evening? Bit eager, aren't we?" You were teasing, mostly, because that seemed to affect that glimmer of playfulness in Thranduil's eyes that made them look like molten silver, but you couldn't deny that you wouldn't have canceled all your plans if you'd had any to begin with, to stay in Thranduil's company. 

"I will gladly take every bit of time you can offer me," Thranduil said, "Any man would be this eager to get to know you."

You were still blushing when you stepped into the narrow corridor of the train, the tight space and crowding of passengers waiting to exit as well making it impossible to stand anywhere else but close together, Thranduils taller body a warm presence in your back and whenever you swayed his large hand found your shoulder to steady you and his amused chuckling reverberated in your stomach.

The train finally made its way into the bustling train station, the smoke of other trains clouding up the window and excitement like only arriving at a special destination could evoke in one filled the air inside the train, the hushed talking growing as other passengers saw relatives or friends or lovers waving to them, children pressing their faces against the glass or tried to run past you with their parents following close behind.

One particular stormy child knocked you straight into Thranduil as the doors opened and cold air greeted you while your face lightened up with a blush. 

"I hope I won't lose you," you said, jokingly but the air was stolen right out of your lungs as Thranduils gloved hand grabbed yours.

"Don't worry," he said and helped you step onto the metal platform, watching carefully as you hopped onto the platform. He looked beautiful in the evening lights of Mirkwood Station, white snowflakes landing gently on his long lashes. "I won't let that happen!"

©itsonlydana 2024

[facewithoutheart]

Five plus One, fic recs

A post is going around about fics you consider classics in the Snowbaz fandom. I’d like to take it a step further by asking …

What are five fics you consider your inspiration/influences for writing, plus one of your fics which you think best represents what you want to bring to the fandom?

5. Hang the Moon by @captain-aralias

@captain-aralias is, to me, the snowbaz fandom fic writer of our time. Her commitment to detail, to nailing Rainbow’s voice, while infusing every fic with a heart and purpose that will leave you changed. Every fic of hers is chef’s-kiss-perfection but I’m highlighting Hang the Moon specifically as a fic I often think about (Baz, wet tennis clothes, helping Simon fight the merwolves), and a fic that was my introduction to what fanfics could be/do. I think I finished this fic and just stared at the wall for an hour because I was just like, oh. Oh.

4. The Pitch by basic-bathsheba

Local Hero is one of my favorite fanfics but I wanted to highlight this fic because it’s just such a powerful and understated story. It’s love in the details. This Simon is the model for all of my Simon’s, just a complete simp for Baz haha but also a man who is comfortable and confident being the man who loves Baz even if he doesn’t get to claim it publicly.

3. Stay Up With Me by @sharkmartini

Not sure what to say about this that hasn’t been said a million times. It’ll break your heart; it’ll put you back together. The concept is brilliant and the exploration of two Simon’s will definitely put your emotions through a wringer. Time travel/what-if fics will always grab my attention but this one in particular makes the same case Rainbow posed in Carry On: what if the villain isn’t the villain? And takes it a step further, because Simon realizes he could be the villain, too. Absolutely beautiful.

2. Can’t Find My Way Home by @carryonsimoncarryonbaz

This is one of those fics that just has so much heart and sweetness. I love a good second chance AU, and this one has such Hallmark vibes in the best way. I just love the slow burn of it, and the amazing ending. A perfect holiday fic to snuggle up with. Reading this feels like being cozy up by the fire with someone you love. Actually writing this makes me wanna reread this so much; now that I live with actual Fall I wanna feel cozy like this again.

1. Basil Pitch’s Diary by @bookish-bogwitch

I know it’s a bit weird to rec a WIP as an influence, especially one that’s being written as we speak, but working with/beta-ing Em’s works have made me a sharper, smarter writer. I know this fic is a classic in the works and it’s something I think about on a weekly basis. The Baz Em gives us, to me, feels like canon Baz taken to the next level. What if Baz was the villain … but only to himself? Em’s writing really is just economical in the best way; every line hits, every paragraph teaches me something. And then the heart. It’s genuinely so hard to do what she does and I’m so lucky to get to see her work in realtime.

+1 This Will All Go Down In Flames

I think, at the end of my fandom career, I want this to be the snowbaz fic people associate with me (Spadey being a close second hahaha). But I do feel like it’s got a lot of fandom in-jokes, humor, and sweetness, plus the fun high-stakes of them being in the spotlight. I got to celebrate the Austin I love and miss, as well as poke fun at my own hipster upbringing. I put a lot of Me™ in this fic and it always feels so lovely when people like it. Besides, I got to work with the amazing @tea-brigade and their art just takes this fic to the next level. A dream collab.

(Throwing in the caveat that I started reading long before I got an ao3 account so it’s very likely I’ve missed some amazing fics from before 2021; I’m so sorry!)

Tagging everyone listed above and six more peeps to start: @cutestkilla, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @larkral, @ileadacharmedlife, @thewholelemon & @aristocratic-otter

[auroralwriting]

if you feel it, chase it

spencer reid x fem!reader (twisters! au)

storm chasing was the intent, falling in love was not.

word count: 4.0k

warnings: do not read if you don't want twisters spoilers, it's the whole fic so beware, spencer is tyler and reader is kate basically, spencer is still himself with a touch of tyler, sort of enemies/strangers to lovers, this has more romance than the movie and it has the kiss we all wanted, no use of y/n

You promised yourself long ago you’d never storm chase again.

After the losses of Elle, Jason, and Haley, it was too much to bare. You’d been the sole survivor of the tornado. Of course, your friend Derek had also survived, but he didn’t experience what you did. He could never understand.

You’d moved from Oklahoma to New York in hopes of moving on, but when Derek came to you five years later, asking you to help his team, you found yourself on a flight back home before you could even reconsider. Going back home after all this time sort of scared you, but Derek and his fifteen missed calls, twenty messages, and one voice message really seemed to convince you.

Derek’s team was for a company run by an investor named Erin Strauss. You’d only overheard her name, but she was using the data collected by Derek’s team to help predict storms before they happened. It seemed like the best idea. It could help save a lot of lives.

The team was small, but included Derek and storm chasers David Rossi, Emily Prentiss, Mateo Cruz, and Jennifer Jareau. Now, it also included you. For the week, you reminded yourself.

You stood with the team as Derek introduced you. Suddenly, a loud stream of music approached quickly. You all watched as a truck and van pulled up. JJ scoffed, “Ignore them. They’re just some famous youtube storm chasers. They’re just in this for the trill of the storm.”

It was inevitable that you continued to stare. The group looked interesting, especially their leader, as you’d guessed. He was tall, curly dark hair, and was yelling something the crowd chanted back. If you feel it, chase it.

"They call themselves the BAU. Boundary Advection Units."

Deciding to ignore them, you walked out to the empty field to stare at the sky. Where would the best storm be…

“West looks good,” A voice said behind you. You turned to see the man from minutes ago, now staring at the sky. “East looks like it could be something.. maybe. High risk, high reward."

“Air’s thicker east, looks like a lot of empty space for a storms to grow.” You commented. “You’ll get a nice show that way for your fans. West is fine, but don't be surprised if they choke each other out, though."

The man stepped closer as you two looked at each other. “I’m, uh, Spencer Reid.” He introduced.

“I have a job to get to,” You scoffed, walking passed him. “East’s got the best chances, take ‘em!”

Approaching your somewhat team, you turned to Derek. “West, we have to go west.”

Rossi scrunched his eyebrows together, “But west has the best air quality for tornados. It looks like there could be several-"

"We go west. Come on, let's get in the vans." Derek said quickly.

Fireworks. They lit off fucking fireworks into the tornado. That had to be some kind of hazard, right? You were a little pissed at yourself for becoming so scared of the tornado. It was simple, an E2. It wouldn't have hurt you. You should have let Derek place the device down to get data.

Derek walked along the path with you to the hotel. He'd asked you to hang out, but you declined. It was too much, too soon. Actually, it wasn't too soon. It reminded you too much of the past. It could never happen. You weren't back. It was just one week.

As you walked up the stairs to your room, you were stopped by Spencer.

"Hey," He called. "The cells to the west will choke each other out, she said. The one in the east will put on a show."

You shrugged, "It didn't throw you off the scent."

"That's what makes Spencer so famous," A woman beside Spencer said. "Hi, I'm Penelope."

Eyebrow raised, you leaned on the railing. "You mean on YouTube?"

"On- Yeah, yeah. We have a million followers!" Penelope cheered with the rest of the crowd. "You know Spencer, but that's Tara, Luke, Alex, and Kate." They all waved and you gave a forced smile. "You made a good call earlier. On my devices, the other cell looked stronger but the cap never broke."

"Where did you all meet? Did you study meteorology in college together?" You asked.

They all laughed, "Nah, only Spencer has a degree, a whole ass PhD in meteorology." Luke laughed. "We all just like to go with the flow. Or, his flow, I guess."

"Our crew isn't quite like your crew. We don't need PhDs and fancy gadgets to do what we do." Spencer said. "I guarantee that these guys," Spencer pointed to the clearly homemade windcatchers, "have seen more tornadoes than anyone here."

"Is that right?" You asked sarcastically.

Spencer turned to you once more, but this time, it was awkwardly. "If you want, uh, maybe we can put you in one of our episodes."

You feigned a clearly fake awe, "Wow. I guess you can always trust a guy who puts his crew on a tee-shirt."

"Hey, I did that!" Penelope called as the rest of the group ooh'd at your comment about Spencer.

You began to walk up to your room as Spencer was quick to follow. "Hey, it wasn't my idea to start the channel." He frowned as you grabbed the key. "I just do it to get my knowledge out there."

"What knowledge?" You ask.

"I have an eidetic memory," Spencer awkwardly said. "That and my PhD. I, uh, know a lot about tornadoes. I want to inform people. Knowledge is power."

With a shake of your head, you open the door. "But knowledge isn't everything, right?" You asked, going inside and shutting the door behind you.

Spencer stood outside for a moment, reeling from your comment. Maybe his friends had been influencing him too much.

It was twins, a whole set of twin tornadoes. Luckily, you'd picked the right one, and Spencer didn't. Unluckily, the tornado almost flipped the truck you and Derek shared. Even worse, it damaged a nearby town.

Everything had been destroyed. Derek and the team were handing out cards to the people as you looked around, helping people find their belongings and returning them.

You knew what it felt like to have everything taken from you, just like that. It was horrible. This was the first tornado you'd been caught in since the last, and you truly thought you were going to die, too. You remembered the looks on your friends faces as the wind swept them up and away. You were truly scared.

Of course, the BAU showed up, too. They set up a merch table. It made you sick to see them selling their merchandise minutes after a life-changing event took place. It made you even angrier to know these people were being taken advantage of.

"Nice play on the left twin." Spencer said as he walked up to you.

"Yeah, well it didn't help these people any." You sighed, looking around.

Spencer watched as Strauss gave her business card to a man. "I wasn't aware that Storm Par was in the helping business." Spencer bitterly stated.

"Well, from what I see they're trying to make a difference." Slowly, you approached Spencer. His well-fitted shirt looked good on him. You took notice of his different-colored converse. It was oddly charming.

"That's one way of putting it." Spencer replied.

"What?"

Spencer paused, "Do you even know who you're chasing for?"

What did he mean? You knew of Strauss, and it was for Derek. "What are you talking about?"

"How much more do these people have to lose?" Spencer angrily asked, walking closer to you. "Is this what you call making a difference?"

"Sorry," You chuckled bitterly, "Says the guy setting up shop selling tee-shirts and mugs after the storms hit."

Spencer ran a hand through his hair, "I have a dog to find." With that, he walked away leaving you more confused than you had been.

What did he mean? Was there something he knew that you didn't? Even if you didn't know anything, you knew you didn't like Spencer getting angry with you. It didn't suit him, the anger. He looked too sweet to be so upset. Maybe you needed to do some digging and find out what he knew.

Right as you walked back to your truck, Kate ran up to you calling your name. "Hey, take some food."

"Oh, don't have any cash." You replied, looking at the girls outstretched arm.

Kate gave you a confused look, "It's free. That's why we're always selling those tee-shirts."

It hit you that maybe you were being the ass. You looked back to the stand to see people getting food and water. You felt your stomach churn. You turned back to Kate. "Oh. Well, save it in case you run low."

"Okay," Kate softly agreed, "At least take some water, stay hydrated."

"Thanks," You replied softly.

"Yeah, see ya." Kate ran back over to her group as you watched. Something wasn't right. You were misinformed. Yeah, it was definitely research time.

WE BUY LAND.

The slogan of the website made you feel like you'd betrayed the whole world as you stared at Strauss' figure standing over a pile of rubble. That's what this was for. It wasn't to help people, it was to buy their land after the tornado came through. It wasn't to stop the tornado, it was just to track it.

Derek knew that wasn't what you were about. It never used to be what he was about. He had to know, so the real question was why would he lie to you?

A knock at your motel door interrupted your thoughts. You shut your laptop and stood up to walk to the door. You opened it to see Spencer standing awkwardly with a box of pizza. His hair was messy and he gave you a crooked smile.

"Thought you might be hungry." He offered. Hesitantly, you took the pizza. You ended up shutting the door without a word and walking back over to your bed.

You opened it, suddenly feeling the urge to see if maybe he wanted some. You needed to tell him you weren't like them. Why his opinion of you mattered so highly, you didn't quite understand.

Opening the door, he was still standing there. "You find that dog?"

"Of course," Spencer nodded. "I wouldn't have left until I did. How you doing after all that?"

You tsked, "It doesn't matter. It's those people who matter."

"Well, you've seen the worst of this place." Spencer hesitated. "I thought that, uh, maybe it would be nice to show you something good. That's if you want to go, of course. It's late and tornado chasing can make you tired-"

"I'll go." You nodded, cutting him off. "Let me get my shoes."

Spencer ended up taking you to a rodeo. You sat in the stands watching. "This isn't, uh, really my speed to be honest." He admitted, awkwardly smiling at you.

"What is your speed then?" You asked, now interested in getting to know him better.

"I like museums. Books, uh, research. That's what I wanted to do. But my mom got sick, so I came back here to help her. Got into chasing." Spencer answered. "I still want to do research. Maybe at a college, somewhere. And I can still chase."

You nodded, "You'd like it. It seems up your alley. Use those smarts to inform the people about tornados and shit."

Spencer chuckled, "Yeah, and shit." After a moment, he asked "Is this your speed?"

"I grew up out here, this isn't my first rodeo." You joked. Spencer chuckled too. It warmed you to know you two had connected.

"Look at that, we're learning things about each other." Spencer commented.

"I didn't know she was buying land," You admitted to him. "I looked it up. Derek just asked me to help his team, we've been friends for years so I just said yes."

Spencer nodded. He looked compassionate. "You didn't strike me as the type to do something like that."

"I'm not," You agreed.

All of a sudden, the wind picked up strongly. It made you shiver. Wait, the weather man didn't predict strong winds. Your heart stopped as you turned to Spencer, who was already looking at you with the same look you adorned. "Were you tracking cells out this way?" Spencer didn't reply, he just slowly turned to the sky. You did the same, staring up. "Air feels heavy, this isn't good."

The same alarm blared from the stands. It was your phones. You opened it to see the bold letters, Tornado Warning. The sirens began to echo throughout the vast space and your heart rate increased.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I've just received word a tornado has touched down near the area! Please evacuate this arena right now!"

Spencer quickly grabbed your hand to help lead you out through the crowd of people. "Come on," He muttered your name a few times. "Hold on, come on." As the crowed began to run, so did you both. A woman fell in front of you and you both helped her up quickly. "Hurry, come on!" Spencer said with more urgency.

It was a disaster. People were scrambling, cars were hitting each other. Spencer held your hand tightly and pulled you closer to him. The lightning lit up the sky, and you could see the tornado.

"Spencer, we have no time!" You yelled.

Right as you went to cross the street, cars almost hit you. Spencer jumped out in front of them, yelling for them to stop as the two of you ran across. You ran into some ranky motel where the front counter worker was arguing with some customers. You'd managed to grab their attention and run outside. After a small scan, you realized there was really nowhere safe to go.

You had to think outside the box, where would be the safest?

Once your eyes fell on the pool, you knew. "The pool! Come on!" You yelled as everyone ran.

The three from the motel ended up running to car. You couldn't stop them. So, you focused on the mom and child you came across, helping them down. Spencer was the last, and right as he made it down, a large chunk of metal hit the ladder and you yanked his arm, pulling him close to you. Quickly, you ran to the end of the pool and held onto the metal pipes as the tornado finally made its way to you.

Please, don't let me die. Not here, not now.

Spencer held on above you, shielding you with his own body.

The moment it was over, you made your way up the ladder to see that everything was utterly destroyed. The Storm Par van you recognized as Derek's drove up. A moment later, he was sprinting out of the car and to you.

"God," He muttered your name as he pulled you into a tight hug. "I thought I lost you."

"Derek," You pulled back. "Why didn't you tell me about Strauss?" You looked over his shoulder to see her speaking with a couple, probably the owners of the land. "She's profiting off their loss."

Derek furrowed his brows, "The way I see it, she's helping them restart."

"By taking all they have left?" You questioned. "That's not helping."

"Yeah?" Derek challenged, anger taking over his features. "How would you know what losing everything you have is?" The moment the words left his mouth, he froze. "I didn't.. I didn't mean--"

You shook your head, "No, Derek. I understand perfectly fine." Slowly, you began to back away. You took the keys from his hand quickly and ran to the van, Derek yelling behind you.

Without a second thought, you started the vehicle and began to drive away. You could still hear Derek yelling apologizes, but what caught your eye was Spencer watching you drive away with a look on his face you couldn't quite understand.

Back at home, your mother welcomed you with open arms. She even left your science experiments in the barn, exactly how you left it all five years ago. It was comforting to be back at home, but at the same time it brought back those painful memories you tried so hard to bury deep, deep down.

The next morning, your mom came to let you know a scrawny, handsome man was here to see you. You simply sighed, telling her to let him come to you.

You stared at your tornado machine from middle school, remembering how happy you were when you'd won first place. Footsteps echoed behind you, and you knew it was Spencer.

"A tornado machine," He stepped close, leaning over to observe it. "The hydraulics on this thing are amazing. Plus, the art is really good too."

"It was my middle school science fair project," You hummed, watching as he carefully picked up one of the small houses, setting it back up.

Spencer turned back around with a geeky smile, "Did you win?"

"What do you think?" You replied with a small smile matching his.

"It's definitely no volcano," Spencer joked as he walked back over to you. "It was Penelope who recognized your name from the news a few years back. I'm sorry about your friends." Spencer said as he eyes a photo that was tacked to the barn's walls. It was one with you, Derek, and your friends. He looked back to you with a look you hadn't seen him give you before. If you would've thought about it, you would've known it was adoration.

You shrugged, shoving your hands in your pockets. "It was my fault. There's nothing to be sorry for."

"It wasn't your fault," Spencer shook his head, walking closer to you.

"It wasn't supposed to be an E5. It was supposed to be smaller, easier to manipulate and be around. I convinced them all to do it." You argued.

Spencer took one of your notebooks and began looking through it, "You theorized you could stop a tornado with polymers that would suck up the moisture." Spencer said as he flipped through the pages.

"It didn't work." You casually replied.

"Well, maybe it could." Spencer looked up, "Maybe you just need a new model. This has a genuine chance of working if you just--"

You held out a hand, closing your eyes as you sucked in a breath. "Spencer, no. That's in the past. I can't-- I just can't."

"You should try," Spencer encouraged. "Imagine the difference you could make with this."

Spencer's words struck a chord with you. That had been your goal, and it was his, too. Even so, it was too risky. It was too painful after what had happened. There was no way you could do it again, let alone rope in Spencer to help you. "I just can't." You finally said after a moment. "It won't." After another moment, you swallowed the lump in your throat. "Stay for dinner, and stay the night. You shouldn't be driving so late during tornado season by yourself."

"I don't want to intrude--"

"Please?"

Spencer looked to you, his eyes wider than normal at your plead. "Okay," He nodded. "Yeah, I'll stay."

You couldn't let anything happen to Spencer, too, you decided.

El Reno was about to be hit with the biggest fucking tornado you'd ever seen. Not only did it just hit a power plant and set on fire, but it was headed to small town with no warnings.

Spencer and you sped to the town, Luke's RV trailing right behind you. The second you got there, it was about finding shelter for people. His team and you all directed people to the storm shelters, but there was just so many people.

"Hey, the shelters are all full." Luke ran up to inform you and Spencer. "We gotta direct them to the theater."

"That won't be any better than standing outside," You shook your head. "There has to be another way."

Luke called Penelope over who typed into her phone at rapid speed, "There's nowhere else without windows." Penelope informed. "Theater is the best place we can take them."

You looked to Spencer, nervously biting your lip. He nodded at you as you took a deep breath, "Okay, let's move them fast. Keep them in the middle, hold onto seats when the walls cave."

The theater became so full, it felt like you were moving through a mosh crowd. This wasn't safe, with the number of people and size of tornado, it was bound to kill everyone. You ran to one side of the building, checking to see if there was shelter.

To your surprise, Derek met up with you and Spencer. "Other side has nothing." Derek said quickly. You knew he'd choose the right way.

"Okay, we gotta get these people in safer positions." Spencer said quickly. As the two ran off, you couldn't help but stare at the tornado.

Maybe Spencer was right. Maybe you could make a difference. After all, this tornado was bound to kill you all. Might as well die trying, right? You took a look at his truck that still had the barrels of your concoction loaded on the back. Quickly, you ran to it, trying your best to not get swept up by the wind. The second you got inside, you knew there was no going back from this.

Spencer began to look for you, asking Derek if he'd seen you. When he saw his truck out in the field, driving right for the tornado, his heart nearly stopped beating right then and there. He yelled your name, desperately trying to get to you. Derek and Luke had to hold him back to keep him inside and safe.

He didn't even realize until that moment how infatuated he'd become with you. You were his dream girl, the one he'd been chasing. And now, you were going to be gone.

You, on the other hand, tried your best not to think about Spencer. It was hard enough leaving him. You felt a connection with him you didn't quite understand, but now was not the time to decode it.

Time felt like it passed by so quickly. The next thing you knew, you were clawing your way outside of the flipped truck. If you were alive, that was a good thing, right? Unless you were dead and you were about to see tornado Jesus right in front of your eyes.

The sunlight hurt, you definitely had some sort of head injury. You reached your hand outside and felt someone grab it. They began to pull you out, another hand grabbing your other arm once your torso was out of the truck.

"Oh my god," You heard Spencer's lovely voice mumble as you finally were freed.

"Is one of you tornado Jesus?" You muttered, blinking back the pain.

A laugh came from Alex, "I thought you were a goner for sure,"

"You did it," Spencer said as he knelt down next to you. "It worked. You fucking did it." His words echoed in your mind as he pulled you into a hug. You didn't even realize you were already hugging back by the time you thought you should. Quickly, you grabbed Spencer's face and pulled him into a kiss.

A howl came from Luke as Spencer pulled back with his gorgeous wide eyes. "We did it."

At your words, Spencer smiled and, this time, pulled you into a kiss. "Okay, back off, let me see my best friend after she almost died." You chucked at Derek's words as he came to hug you, nearly pushing Spencer away. "Never do that again."

"Can't promise that," You chuckled, staring at Spencer over Derek's shoulder as his cheeks warmed at your stare. "Because I think we may just have ourselves a new storm chasing crew." As the group whooped at the victory, you pulled back from Derek and turned to Spencer. "If you feel it..."

"Chase it." Spencer smiled back as he gently set a hand on your face, causing you to smile even wider at your storm-chasing boy.

[mxltifxnd0m]

heaven knows ❥ i. lahey

summary: social media/ college au with the pack [can be read as a non supernatural au, but its implied]

pairings: established isaac lahey x reader, isaac lahey x fem! reader

warnings: none really, no use of 'y/n', fluff, slice of life, some cursing

a/n: made this instead of my homework bc i wanted to make a smau for isaac :) also emmyparker is an oc based on my friend loll

reblog and comment! i love to see your thoughts on my fics (even if this isn’t technically a fic lol)

𝘪𝘴𝘢𝘢𝘤 𝘭𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

yourusername

liked by mccallmescott, emmyparker, and 2023 others

yourusername a lil photo dump of college so far ;P (not included: mental breakdowns)

tagged: kirakitsune, lyds.martin, silverallison, isaaclahey14 + 3 more

view all 823 comments

lyds.martin you wouldn't have the breakdowns if you didn't procrastinate ↳ yourusername you know what lydia stfu ↳ emmyparker @/yourusername shes not wrong ↳ yourusername WTH IS WITH THIS DOGPILING 😭😭

mccallmescott why do i have the feeling that your study sessions don't end up being study sessions ↳ yourusername what makes you think that scotty? ↳ kirakitsune @/mccallmescott they usually devolve into yap sessions ↳ silverallison SHHH kira!! they aren't supposed to know ↳ 24stiles is that why we aren't invited?? ↳ emmyparker that's a secret we'll never tell 🤫 xoxo gossip girl 😘 ↳ 24stiles 😐😑😐

* * *

lyds.martin

liked by stilesss, kirakitsune, and 1923 others

lyds.martin girls night in! 🥂

tagged: yourusername, emmyparker, silverallison, + 2 more

view all 1002 comments

yourusername wheres my pic creds 🤨 ↳ lyds.martin you're tagged, isn't that enough ↳ yourusername no 🥰 ↳ lyds.martin 🙄

24stiles i see my invite was lost in the mail ↳ emmyparker it can't be lost if it wasn't sent 😊 ↳ lyds.martin you weren't invited bc you aren't a girl, hence why it's called a girls night

silverallison we need to do this more often, it was so fun !! ↳ kirakitsune 100% agree, especially with finals kicking our asses rn 😭 ↳ lyds.martin heard, but @/yourusername has to host next time ↳ yourusername thanks for volunteering me lyds 🙃

* * *

24stiles

liked by yourusername, isaaclahey14, and 1120 others

24stiles boyz night 😤💪💯 (and theo is here too ig)

tagged: mccallmescott, isaaclahey14, liam.dunbar + 2 more

view all 782 comments

lyds.martin wow someone was bitter about us hanging out with out them ↳ 24stiles whatever do you mean? ↳ lyds.martin you're an idiot

yourusername i know damn well you didn't use my apartment as a fire hazard ↳ 24stiles ...its technically not just your apartment, it's isaac's... ↳ isaaclahey14 @/24stiles are you trying to get me killed?! ↳ yourusername @/24stiles @/isaaclahey14 stilinksi you're first on my list, lahey you'll be next ↳ 24stiles what about scott??? ↳ mccallmescott DUDE??

* * *

yourusername

liked by kirakitsune, silverallison, and 2009 others

yourusername love you wolf boy 🥰 🩵

tagged: isaaclahey14

view all 1014 comments

24stiles ew i didn't need to see this first thing in the morning ↳ yourusername you jealous i nabbed him in high school when you had the chance? ↳ 24stiles pffhh absolutely not, besides im in a happy relationship with em ↳ yourusername that's what you think :) ↳ 24stiles EM?? EXPLAIN NOW @/emmyparker

silverallison this is disgustingly cute ughh ↳ yourusername feel free to join us if you want ;) ↳ silverallison don't tempt a girl with a good time 😏

kirakitsune for research purposes, i need to know where isaac's shirt is from ↳ emmyparker same... for research purposes ↳ yourusername i sent you guys the link 🤭

isaaclahey14 love you lots babe ↳ yourusername love you more 🫶

* * *

isaaclahey14

liked by emmyparker, 24stiles, and 1923 others

isaaclahey14 love you sweetheart ❤️

tagged: yourusername

view all 863 comments

emmyparker wait are these candids of her actually good? ↳ issaclahey14 do you doubt my abilities? ↳ emmyparker yes 😁 also @/24stiles take notes ↳ 24stiles how do i keep getting attacked in posts that aren't even mine 😭

silverallison @/isaaclahey14 im gonna steal your girl ↳ isaaclahey i'd like to see you try ↳ yourusername guys noo don't fight over me (please do it does wonders for my ego) ↳ silverallison nevermind you can keep her

yourusername this is actually so cute, love you so much honey <33 ↳ isaaclahey14 i swear you always underestimate me ↳ yourusername aren’t you forgetting something 🤨 ↳ isaaclahey14 i love you too ❤️

[lovebugism]

I would love to request a drabble for punchy x Steve where maybe they're hanging out together with the group for the first time and punchys a little nervous to see how they'll react to see seeing as her whole vibe is so different from every other of Steves exes basically lol

i had so much fun with this request!! hope you like it, anon! from the punchy x steve universe — the one where steve comforts you when you're too scared to tell his friends about your relationship (1.2k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

Steve’s been waiting all night to kiss you.

He knew inviting the whole gang over for a swim would put a wrench in his plans to love on you all night, but he didn’t think it would be this hard. Not holding you feels a little like a knife in his side. It hurts worse than every beating he’s ever taken, combined.

So he doesn’t waste a second to sneak out behind you when you leave for a smoke break. He waits exactly five minutes before following you out through the front gate. He finds you sitting on the hood of your car — a pretty little thing in all black sat upon a rusted tin can. 

You’re wearing a knit coverup over a one-piece bathing suit. It's about three sizes too big for you. The puffy sleeve falls to your elbow when you take a drag of your cigarette, then crawls back up to your wrist when you flick the end of it. The staunch smell of nicotine contrasts with the warmer scent of a dewy summer night.

“Think I can bum a smoke from you… buddy?” Steve asks when he climbs the hood to sit next to you.

The nickname is so obviously pointed. You laugh, high and airy. Smoke billows from your lips as you giggle. 

Dustin asked if you were dating earlier that night — deep blue eyes twinkling with hopeful embers you hated to snuff out. “Sorry, kid, but we’re not dating,” you fibbed in response, patting Steve on his shoulder. “We’re just a couple of best buds, aren’t we, bab— I mean, Steve?”

It wasn’t your best work by any means, but it got everyone off your back. That was all you really wanted to do, anyway.

“Always, Stevie,” you singsong as you pass him the lit cigarette between your fingers.

“Think it would be too much to ask for a kiss, too?” the boy wonders with raised brows and sparkling honey eyes.

You melt. 

“Never,” you hum with a shake of your head, already gravitating towards him. You had a tendency to do that a lot — to drift his way like he was a magnet compared to the metal of you. He welcomes you just the same, pressing his mouth to yours like his lips were made to do it.

The kiss is chaste and innocuous, gentle with the makings of a man who’s wanted to kiss you for several agonizing hours.

Your lips click in protest when they part. He smiles as he watches your heavy eyes flutter slowly open. You’re met with his pretty pink lopsided smile. “Think we should tell ‘em tonight?”

You lean away from him, pursing your lips to the side of your mouth as you ponder his question. 

You’d love to tell everyone about Steve, more than just your core group of friends. You want to shout your adoration for him from the rooftops, let it sing across the universe and back. But love was more complex than simple words, and the implication of that terrified you.

After a few moments, you shake your head — lazily and with your nose scrunched.

“What do you mean?” Steve laughs. The sound is bright enough to illuminate the starry evening. It’s bright yellow compared to the velvet blue sky. The boy rests his weight on one of his arms and gestures with the other. “We’ve gotta tell ‘em sometime, babe. ‘Cause if they find out on their own, I’m gonna be the one dealing with the bitching.”

“I just like not having to talk about it,” you confess with a quiet shrug. Your chin turns to your shoulder when you look over at him, meeting his glittering gaze with a meeker one. “I like just being with you and not having to talk about the… gross, icky, lovey stuff.”

“The gross icky lovey stuff?” Steve echoes with jettisoned brows.

“Yeah.”

“Like what?” he deadpans, bringing the lit cigarette to his mouth. “How in love with you I am?”

“Exactly,” you joke back with a feigned disgust.

Steve scoffs out a laugh as he hands the stick back to you. Smoke leaves his mouth in a wispy grey cloud. 

You hold the thing between your thumb and forefinger, but don’t move to take a hit of it. He knows it’s something deeper, then — something more you want to say. You keep it inside and get all in your head about it, though. Your eyes glaze over as you look off into the distance. Steve can read you like a damn book.

“What else?” the boy blurts.

Your eyes go wide as they flit back to his. “Huh?”

“You look like you wanna say something else.”

You blink at him for a moment, then shake your head innocently.

Steve reaches out a hand to nudge your shoulder. A soft smile tugs at the corner of his pink lips. “Come on. Just say it,” he urges gently. “Lay it on me, babe. I can take it.”

You laugh in response. It’s halfhearted, though, and your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“I don’t know,” you sigh with the same barely-there grin. Your eyes turn away from his, gaze going glassy as your stare turns to the darkening sky. “It’s just… The last person your friends saw you with was Nancy. And I know Robin is well up to date with all your other flings, ‘cause she said, and I quote, ‘he certainly has a type.’”

“Well, that’s just Robin,” the boy shrugs with pinched brows. “She’s an idiot. Sometimes she just kinda says stuff.”

“I’m just saying that… I’m not your type, you know?” you confess sheepishly, like it’s some deeply hidden secret. You have no idea it’s why Steve loves you so much — not despite how different you are, but because of it.

“I know,” the boy nods, meeting your timid glance with a bright grin.

“And I’m just scared that… that they’ll think it’s weird. You know, that we’re… together.”

“It is weird,” Steve affirms with a chuckle. “That’s why it’s so cool!” 

Your brows pinch. “…Really?”

“Yeah! I fucking love being your boyfriend, babe! And they’re gonna love you being my girlfriend!”

He says it all with wide eyes and pink smiles, so confident like it’s all obvious to him. He makes it sound so simple, smoothing out all your buzzing, complex insecurities with ease.

You scrunch your nose in response. “You think so?”

“Definitely,” he scoffs with a firm nod, then tilts his head to his shoulder. “Well... Robin will be a little jealous, probably. Dustin, too. And Eddie’s already got a whole complex about it, so…”

“So they’ll hate it,” you summarize with a smile.

“They'll hate all the gooey, icky, lovey stuff, sure. But they’ll love you— I mean, they already do. Way more than they love me.”

“You sound very sure about all this, Harrington.”

“It’s impossible not to love you, Punchy,” Steve confesses, growing suddenly very tender. “Everything you do— it’s like you’re made of, fucking— flowers or something.”

“Flowers?” you giggle.

The boy huffs. “I’m just saying that you’re too perfect not to fall in love with, okay? They’re gonna love you because it’s against human nature not to, you know?”

You don’t believe him. 

You know he’s not lying, but you don’t believe him. 

But rather than arguing, you reach out a hand for the one propping up his weight. You rest your palm along his knuckles and smile. Your skin buzzes when you touch him — Love? Euphoria? A schoolgirl giddiness? You’re not sure.

You just know happiness when you see him, touch him. 

Steve Harrington is a happily ever after.

Yours, hopefully.

[shastafirecracker]

good news/bad news, the good news is the next installment will definitely be Wolfwood’s perspective, the bad news is the next installment will definitely be Wolfwood’s perspective

@ anyone who’s read my vashliviowolfwood fics, question: are there any particular prompts or requests you have for that AU? i really want to keep noodling around in it but i’m struggling with specific scenarios. particularly if you have anything you want to see razlo involved in, like any conversations, decisions, confrontations, particular character interactions, etc. literally anything from talking about trauma to arguing with livio about cutting their hair, idk.

[moralesmilesanhour]

okay okay, i have had this one thought in my head about a platonic gender-neutral (or male/masc-leaning) reader fic. this is for either miles (more so 42 than 1610 bc i can imagine his face of exasperation). imagine just being his dumbass friend, like yeah your smart enough to be in visions, but goddamn!! you leave your braincells in your school locker once the final bell rings. your self preservation instincts are questionable at best and the only reason you're not dead yet bc you're proving that quote "you can't kill stupid" as a true fact. at least you bring homemade food over everytime you visit his home and his mom likes you, so you're not completely hopeless in life. (i've had this rotating in my brain for days and still haven't written it myself) -☁

a/n: I went the masc route with this one with a sprinkle of gender envy if u squint

You thought doing homework on a rooftop would be a nice change of scenery.

Dangling off of the rooftop? Not so much.

A tiny group of pigeons had been hanging out near the edge, and you had the idea to try and feed them with the bag of sunflower seeds you'd brought with you. Carefully, you step forward toward the flock, until some unknown force of nature causes you to trip over your own feet and sends you careening over the edge.

Somehow, you manage to grab hold of the railing of the fire escape just below, but your palms are sweaty. You heave as you use all of your upper body strength to hold yourself up while desperately trying not to look down.

It's not enough.

Just as you lose your grip, a strong arm catches you. It's covered in purple leather, ending in a familiar clawed hand.

"Again?" Asks an amused modulated voice as wind rushes past your ears.

"You make it sound like a daily occurrence."

You feel a jolt as the masked figure swings and lands in front of an alleyway before putting you down. As you adjust your crooked glasses, the mask whirs and splits in two before receding, revealing the smirking, deep brown face of your friend, Miles.

"What happened this time?"

His voice is low and nearly too soft to hear, a stark contrast to the tinny high pitch of your own. No amount of lowering your larynx or whispering could ever get it like that. Part of you wishes you could steal it sometimes, or borrow his voice modulator, at least.

If only.

"Tripped," you answer, rubbing your upper arm as a side effect of the claws' tight grip. "Dunno how you always manage to catch me."

"Easy," Miles explains as he unzips his black duffel bag. "I see that ratty ass gray hoodie you always got on and swing right over."

With a whir and a clank, he removes the claw on his right hand, then his left, tossing them into the bag.

"How does carryin' those around like that not damage them?" you blurt out suddenly. Miles snorts.

"You gonna fix 'em for me, genius?"

"No."

"Thought so."

Finally, he removed the grappling hook strapped to his back and tied his jacket around his waist.

You say his catchphrase before he does: "Let's bounce!"

This earns you a burst of laughter from Miles as you make your way out of the alley.

"What, I say it wrong?"

"No, it's just..." he catches his breath and claps you on the shoulder as he passes by. "You make it sound so friendly."

"Whatever, man."

-

"Yo, pay attention, dude!"

You feel Miles' hand yank you backwards by your hoodie as a car horn blares past you. Once you look up from your phone, your eyes widen.

"Oh, shit."

The car had barely missed you.

The streetlight across from you finally turned white, and the two of you crossed. Miles keeps glancing back at you until the short journey to the opposite sidewalk is completed.

He stops, crossing his arms. "How many times are you gonna almost-die today? Lemme know so I can adjust my schedule."

"Until someone finally finishes the job," you joke before remembering something. "Ah fuck, I hope the brownies survived."

You swing your book bag off of your shoulder and kneel to open it, revealing a small Tupperware container filled with home-made brownies stacked on top of your textbooks. Thankfully, there is only a bit of chocolate smudged on the sides; the pastries themselves remain (mostly) intact.

Miles raised an eyebrow. "You know taking the textbooks home is optional, right?"

Zipping your bag closed, you reply with a shrug,"I like re-writing my notes. I need to access the source material."

"I need to access the source material," Miles mimics you in a nasally voice before strolling past you. "If I were a worse person, I'd shove yo' ass in a locker."

You laugh, breaking into a jog to catch up to him with your 'source material' weighing you down.

"Just for that, I'm telling your mom the brownies are just for her-shit!"

A piece of cracked and lifted cement trips you up and scuffs your sneakers. Your hands shoot out to break your fall, planting themselves onto the ground. Your glasses aren't so lucky.

"Aw, man, I just got these!" You frowned as you dusted off your khaki shorts with one hand, holding your glasses in the other.

One of the frames now has a crack right down the middle.

"That's tough, buddy," Miles remarks.

He had spun around as soon as he heard you yell in case of another near-death experience, but was now trying desperately to hold back laughter that escaped through his nose as he walked backwards towards his destination.

"It's not funny!"

"It's a little funny. You're like a Looney Tunes character."

You laugh, "If an anvil falls on my head, it's your fault."

[chasedbyatlantic]

puppy love, joel miller

summary: IN WHICH — when joel is upset, you do anything and everything in your power to cheer him up. this means showing him your new guitar skills, while singing one of his favourite songs to him.

warnings: post outbreak!joel, jackson!joel, implied relationship, gender!neutral reader, sub!joel, lovey dovey joel and reader, ellie being a little shit once again, swearing, literally all fluff because i can, brief mention of death/killing (very very brief! shows up like two times), bad descs of guitar playing since i haven't played in like 10 years LOL, lmk if i missed anything!

wordcount: 2.3k

a/n: my second fic!!!!! i sort of love this one?? also tysm for the love on my first! looking for moots too! hmu if you wanna <3 make sure to reblog, like, and comment on this plz and thank u! if u have any requests for a fic lmk (dms r open for it!) more to come soon xoxo

—

God only knew what time it was. You had an infuriating day at work, training all new people on how to successfully patrol Jackson's surrounding areas, and how to not- well, die. This was always your least favourite time of year, to say the least. All the "fresh meat" had been selected to be potential patrolers, and they had to go through extensive training to make sure they were one hundred percent qualified and committed to the role.

Both you and Joel were practically put into this role by Maria (Joel's sister-in-law), not by force, but more of a "you would be doing the entire Jackson community a whole favour if you did this" sort of thing - guilt, most would say. Maria had even tried to get Ellie to help train people, but Joel almost killed Maria by his glare when she brought it up to the two of you.

Even though you hated this role in the community, you think Joel liked it. He had a bit too much fun getting to put kids in check, and humble them big time. At least it was only for a few months, you had kept reminding yourself. The few months were from early June until late September, though - the hottest months of the year. The before dawn wake up calls, and after dusk ends would only last for another month, since it was sometime in the middle of August right now.

After getting home extremely late, around an hour or two ago, you had already taken a shower and changed into more comfortable clothes before you went and sat on your back porch. Even though you didn't want to be outside anymore than you had to right now, Ellie had one of her friends over and wanted privacy. You love the kid, so you gave her the privacy (not much privacy, only hanging out in the living room of your home).

You were able to tell Joel was finished with his shower when you heard high-pitched and muffled screams coming from inside the house behind you. Just as you went to turn your head around to see what exactly the commotion he was causing inside was, the familiar figure of Joel Miller left the glass door, with the door slamming shut behind him. "Everything alright in there, cowboy?" You hummed to him as the nickname rolled off your tongue, scooching over on the step you were seated on to give the man some room to sit.

"Fucking Christ," He started as he took a seat next to you, "they were paintin' their nails, or somethin'. Said I wasn't allowed anywhere near 'em in that room, or they'd be off with me." Joel had grunted once he was completely lowered on this step, his bones weren't as good as they used to he would say.

This earned a snort from you, "No way- Ellie's paintin' her nails? Your girl's really growin' up, Joel." You couldn't believe she was doing this, to be honest. Ellie had stated to both you and Joel that she was not girly whatsoever, and would rather turn into a clicker than wear a dress or do her makeup. After you had said this to Joel, he looked to be upset. He didn't want Ellie growing up, his girl growing up. "Joking, joking."

He took his eyes off of you, and moved them forward. "Nah, you're right," Joel had sighed, "she won't need me soon. Soon she'll-" He had trailed off, quiet now. Fuck- why did you bring this up, you had thought to yourself. You could only place your hand on Joel's thigh. "She'll always need you, Joel. Shit, she'd be death without ya'. Lighten up a bit baby, she ain't going anywhere."

Joel knew it was true, he was just having a really emotional moment right now, it was most likely from being up since five in the morning. "Dunno 'bout that." He had only muttered, placing his hand over yours. You tsked, putting some pressure on his thigh as you got up in an awkward fashion. "Where are ya'-"

"I have an idea, hold on." You had cut him off, making your way back inside. You were engulfed by the sounds of laughter as soon as you stepped foot through the patio door. You were silent about it, not wanting to bother Ellie or her friend. You had silently moved to the house's spare room, where the three of you put anything and everything. You had grabbed what you were looking for almost instantly (it had a distinct shape) and made your way back outside.

Joel turned his head once you had stepped outside again, his eyes moving down to what you had in hand, then gaining eye contact. "Is that my-" he couldn't even finish his sentence. You grinned as you pulled the lawn chair over, placing the case on the floor and unlatching the sides. You had picked up the piece of polished wood and string and placed the curved part on top of your knee.

"Okay so," You had started as Joel turned around to give you his full attention. He looked handsome like this- more than handsome, actually. The way the dull light from inside of your home highlighted his face almost perfectly- ugh, you couldn't get enough of it. "From all of the, sort of, free time I have had in the last few months, I decided to sort of, really badly, learn a few songs?" It came out more of a question than it did a statement, and Joel took notice of this with only a laugh in return.

"Anything ya' play'll be gorgeous, baby." Joel could only look at you in complete awe; if he didn't love you one hundred percent before, he sure as fuck did now. Instead of sitting down, Joel stood up and was now leaning against the wooden beam behind him. He towered over you, only inches away- this got you on even more of an edge.

"Okay, please don't kill me if I don't get the chords right- I don't think I read the notes properly." You awkwardly chuckle as you avoid eye contact with Joel at the current second. Joel knows a guitar from the inside-out, but even if you messed up, he would not care at all. You took the time to learn his favourite instrument, and this only put him in an ecstatic mood.

"Pick a number one through three." You told him as you move your left hand up the neck, and your right arm drooped over the body. "Three." He replied almost too fast, he was just so eager to hear you play.

You brought your fingers through the strings before you started, making sure it was in tune. You glance up towards Joel, "It's in tune, right?" You ask him. A chuckle escapes his lips as he nods, "Don't worry baby, it is."

You (unfortunately) tore your eyes apart from Joel's as you focus on both your left and right hands now. Multitasking was hard for you before this, so you struggled a bit to play. You inhale slowly, placing your fingers on the top three strings on the fingerboard. You strum from both left and right, meeting to the middle string as the first chord.

"And they called it puppy love," your voice was quiet and sounded more hoarse than relaxed, which you mentally slapped yourself for. Before hounding yourself about it even more, you had to focus on changing the chords another four times as you repeated the strumming rhythm.

"Oh, I guess they'll never know," There wasn't any moving, or talking, or breathing (from the sound of it) from Joel. He was just- mesmerized, mesmerized by what you had been doing with your fingers, with your voice, with everything. If the world hadn't gone to shit, you most definitely would've had a big breakout as an up-and-coming music star, he had thought to himself.

"How a young heart, how it really feels, and why I love him so," You had changed the lyrics, and Joel noticed - you changed "her" to "him". Honestly, Joel only noticed because it was you singing it (and he loved you deeply), and that whenever he would spend time with his grandfather when he was little, this song was played a million times. Had he ever told you about his love for this song, or was it just a coincidence?

"And they called it puppy love," You repeated yourself, emotion starting to seep through your voice. "Just because we're seventeen," If you weren't so lost in your train of thought, of remembering where to put your fingers for the next chord, and the correct strumming pattern, and the lyrics, you would've noticed Ellie and her friend silently sneak out onto the porch.

"Tell them all, it isn't fair. To take away my only dream," You had paused strumming for a single second, it sounded like a dramatic pause in Joel's eyes. You had just completely lost your breath from a combination of singing and nerves. After the (painfully long, you thought) second was over, you started once again.

"I cry each night, my tears for you. My tears are all in vain," The chord pattern you had going changed for the last time, and your strums started to sound quiet, your voice dying out while all of this happened. Joel took notice of this, standing up completely now (from leaning against the wooden beam behind). The two girls behind you were still so silent, almost just as mesmerized with you as Joel was.

"Oh, I'll hope and pray, that maybe someday," You inhale as your thumb starts to brush down from the highest string to the lowest string, "You'll be back in my arms once again." A loud exhale falls through your mouth, followed by the two girls bursting out with clapping and compliments. This does nothing short than scaring the absolute fuck out of you, causing the guitar to slip out of your grip.

Luckily, with Joel being completely focused on you, he had came to the rescue and snatched the guitar before it had fell on the ground. You shoot him an apologetic look before turning around to the two girls, he just looks at you with understanding eyes. "You guys almost made me drop the fuckin' thing- how long were you there for?" You question them, eyeing between the two. Their clapping hands were now silent and playing with their thumbs, almost nervous from you.

"Ya' know what, it doesn't matter. Inside- go, it's bedtime." You had scolded the two, as if you were their mother. Ellie's friend had opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off by Ellie gripping her hand and yanking her back inside. You start to turn back to face Joel, after snapping. "Fuck, we can never have a minute of fuckin' sile-".

He cut you off by smashing his lips into yours. He was acting as if though he was touch deprived, if he hadn't seen you for years. You two just move in sync for what feels like forever (not that you're complaining, though), before you pull away.

Before you have the chance to say anything, Joel brings you to your feet and sets the guitar down on your previous seat, embracing you in a tight hug. You can feel his rough facial hair on the exposed parts of your neck as he exhales, you definitely don't mind. "I needed that more than anythin', darlin'." He admits to you.

"Anythin' for my favourite person." You remind him, bringing your hand to the back of his head. It was true, you would do anything for this man. You would steal for him, kill for him, anything he wanted.

The sun was threatening to peak through the moonlit skies, you knew you two had to be up and about soon enough, but that didn't stop you. You were laying in bed together, tangled between each other's arms. The covers were kicked off your shared bed, and a small breeze cruising the room every so often from the open windows.

"I think it's true." You had broken the comfortable silence that filled the room. Joel didn't move from his position (half of his body on you), just hummed with his eyes staying shut. "What is, baby?"

"The song- fuck, I don't want to sound cheesy or nothin'." You admit, before continuing, "You just, ya' know, I love you's all." You send a small squeeze through Joel's hand, that vibrates his entire body. This results in him dropping your hand and lifting it to wrap around your chest. "Nothin' cheesy 'bout that." His voice was even more hoarse than when you had lost your fears of singing in front of someone, in front of Joel. You now went silent, just loving his embrace.

"Darlin'?" He now broke the silence after a minute or two, eyes still shut and not moving whatsoever. You gave a hum in response, just like he did earlier. "Ya' said to pick a number between three before ya' played earlier, were the other options real?" This was your favourite, vulnerable Joel.

"It was, and before you ask-" you pause, bringing your hand to the back of his head, just like earlier. You ran your fingers through his restless curls. "-I'll play the rest for ya'. Promise." Joel had obviously liked this answer, as he responded with a sloppy kiss to your collarbone.

You would learn every lyric in the world, every chord in the world, every strum in the world, just for Joel to be happy. You didn't want anything more in this world than for him to be happy. If he was happy, so were you.

-

puppy love, paul anka

[arlowthenacho]

꧁༺ 𝓱𝔂𝓭𝓻𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓸𝓻 𝓭𝓲𝓮-𝓭𝓻𝓪𝓽𝓮 ༻꧂

(spencer reid x reader/platonic!bau x reader)

summary: spencer isn’t drinking enough water when you’re away on a case. you call him, the team hears, chaos ensues.

warnings: fluffy! set in early s5, mention of getting shot, use of y/n, some cursing, pet names (baby, babe, sweetheart), intended lowercase. if i missed any, please let me know!

a/n: hi there! this is my first fic, so rlly any interaction/feedback is appreciated! this is also extremely self indulgent, but enjoy! the ending is kinda shit, apologies 🙇‍♀️

the soft rustling of paper and the quiet buzz of chatter is all that can be heard on the plane. the team had been presented a new case and have been flying for about an hour. they had been filling the silence by going over the details of the case, chatting with each other, or in your case, trying to convince your boyfriend to take a goddamn sip of water.

“spencer, for the love of god, i’m not asking you to throw your coffee machine out the window! please, take but a sip of water, i beg of you!” you’re practically hissing into the phone, trying to keep your voice down and failing miserably.

“y/n, im fine, i swear! i’ll just drink some later, i’m just really busy-” spencer’s reply comes out slightly crackly through the phone. he had been shot in the leg on a recent case and was not cleared to travel, therefore being left in penelope’s care, and only being able to communicate through phone calls.

“i left you a bottle of water on pen’s desk, it’s literally right in front of you!” you can hear emily snickering in the background and give her a half-hearted glare.

“yeah, pretty boy, why don’t you drink your water?” derek decides to chime in, a smug look plastered on his face. you shoot him a glare and whack his arm. “ow!”

you roll your eyes at derek’s whining and go back to your conversation with spencer.

“spence, please. just finish one bottle of water and then i’ll let you off the hook.” your tone is teetering on begging him and demanding him. at this point, the entire team can hear your conversation and are all snickering not-so-discreetly.

“spencer, please just listen to y/n. i don’t want to listen to this for another 4 hours.” this time, it’s rossi who interrupts you. his tone is so serious it’s funny.

spencer blushes a bright red on the other end and you can hear penelope teasing him relentlessly.

“ok, ok, fine! i’ll finish the water. happy?” his reply comes out in a high-pitched voice, clearly showing his embarrassment.

“very. thank you, spence,” he can hear the smile in your voice as you say your goodbyes and hang up the phone.

pretty much immediately after the fact, emily pipes up.

“you guys are so adorable it makes me ill,” she feigns annoyance by rubbing at her temples, concealing her smile quite terribly. you roll your eyes and go back to the file in front of you.

“that’s really unfortunate, em. feel better!” you teased, huffing out a chuckle.

“okay, the case?” hotch’s stern reply earns a groan from the rest of the team as your eyes drift back down to the folder in front of you.

you’re now a couple days into the case, and everything’s going to shit. you’re no closer to finding the scumbag of the month and the team is losing hope.

after a few seconds of thinking, you’re suddenly pulled out of your thoughts when your phone rings, spencer’s name lighting up the screen. you answer near immediately, holding the phone to your ear.

“spence? baby? you got some good news f’me?” a smile touches you’re lips as soon as you answer, standing up and walking to the evidence board.

“yes and no, which do you wanna hear first?” spencer’s biting his lip in excitement and vibrating in his chair.

“lets hear the bad news first, baby,” you deflate at his words, leaning your back against the nearest wall.

“well, the trail we though we had on the unsub went cold,” spencer winces when he hears you sigh. “but we found a relative, penelope’s sending the address right now,” your smile soon returns as you kiss the phone, making an obnoxious sound in the speaker.

“im kissing your lovely little brains spence, thank you!” you make a few more kissing noises before spencer talks again.

“um-thank you, y/n,” his cheeks are flushed and he stutters through his sentences, biting his lip and smiling. “i-uhm…i also…finished my water…” you can barely make out what he’s saying, his whispered words slurring together.

“what was that, sweetheart?”

“i-i finished…i finished the water you gave me,” he speaks a bit louder, enunciating his words slightly better. you light up at his confession, smiling so wide your cheeks ache.

“thats great, spence! im very proud of you,” you gush, positively beaming.

“th-thank you, y/n, really,” he’s blushing even more now, his stammering worsening by the second.

”of course, babe. now, i gotta go, but i’ll call you when i’m back at the hotel, ‘kay? love you spence, bye!” you wait until spencer says goodbye to hang up the phone, smiling like a kid on christmas day.

after a couple more days, the case was finally over. the criminal being caught and locked away.

the jet ride home was uneventful, other than some light chatter and a well-deserved nap.

***

you’re soon stepping off the jet, along with the rest of the team, and hailing a cab to take you back home. soon, someone pulls over and you hop into the backseat. you give the driver your address and pull out your phone to text spencer.

spencie poo 💌

im omw home right now, see you soon :)

his reply comes back almost immediately.

okay, see you then!

you snap your flip phone shut and wait the remaining few minutes to get to your house.

***

after about 10 minutes, the ride is finally over. you pay the cab driver and thank him for driving you before speeding over to the door of your apartment building. you open it and buzz yourself in, walking to the elevator and pressing the button to get to your floor.

after getting off the elevator, you pull out your keys and unlock your apartment, dropping your things and toeing off your shoes.

“spence? you in here?” you call out into the seemingly empty apartment, plopping down on the couch and feeling around for the remote.

“here, y/n! just a minute,”

after a few seconds, spencer comes out and sits down in the spot next to you. you immediately curl into his side and sigh in contentment and exhaustion.

“‘m so tired, spence…” your words slur together, the drowsiness in your voice highlighted.

“i know…this case was a rough one.” he wraps his arm around you, drawing lazy circles on your shoulder. you let out a soft groan and cuddle closer to him.

“y’know, you really need to drink more water,” you giggle, limp in his arms.

“yeah…i know…” he has a guilty look on his face as he leans down to kiss your hairline. “i did finish that bottle of water you left me though,” he laughs breathlessly.

“hmm, thats good. ‘m very proud, spencer.” you can barely process what he’s saying, even though your words are sincere.

“okay baby, lets get you to bed,” spencer effortlessly picks you up and makes the short walk to your bedroom, laying you down on the plush bed.

after making sure you’re comfortable, he climbs in next to you and turns off the light.

“i love you, spence.”

”i love you too, y/n.”

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

Aight here’s a few of my favorite SP fics that no one asked for

I’m generally more of a one shot kinda lad but since getting into South Park I’ve read SO MANY GREAT longer ones so here’s just some highlights: (all on ao3)

Ship In A Bottle FayOfTheForest. One of the first sp AU’s I read, we got PIRATES. HOMOEROTIC SWORD FIGHTING. WLW CREEK. SLOW BURN STYLE. (Injured stan my beloved) KENNY. BUNNY. The parents SUCK. Literally such a kickass story!

This House of Mine by OrcaTimes. VIOLENCE. GANG ACTIVITY. CREEK. I really love the characterization of everyone in this fic, especially Craig. Seriously man. Also THE K2 IN THIS SLAYS (we got some PRIME Kyle injury too god I love him) THE ENDING IS SO SATISFYING TOO!!!

Peppermint by boxwinebaddie. Bro. Literally my all time favorite style fic. I’m so serious. The writing and story are BEAUTIFUL LIKE SO FUCKING AMAZING The PINING. THE HEADCANONS. I COULD GO ON FOR HOURS. Pls if you check out any of my Recs READ THIS ONE.

Maybe For Real This Time & The Kids Are Alright by WeirdBBQDad. Dude. I have no words other than KENNY FUCKIN MCCORMICK. Also Style. Also families. Just- just check it out.

Hang ‘Em High by littledeathsinmusicalbeds. Cowboy au. Creek. Established Style. Bounty hunter Kenny. Massive slay.

The Thief Trilogy by wintergrew. WHEN I SAY IT LIVES IN MY HEAD RENT FREE. The world building is PHENOMENAL literally my favorite SOT AU OF ALL. Long as hell, but SO worth the read holy fuck. I adore Stick Of Truth.

You’re The Prettiest Boy I’ve Ever Seen by burnt_pancakes. CREEK. STYLE. MISCOMMUNICATION. BUNNY. KENNY IN GENERAL. the friendships in this are PERFECT.

Your name written upon mine by sooduhnim. SOT STYLE. Soulmate au that’s INCREDIBLE seriously I love this one and can’t wait for an update.

How We Began by PastorCraigEnjoyer. Ok yes I’m cringy as shit for the self promo but this is my favorite long fic that I’ve written. Slow burn SOT STYLE, no war just fantasy gays falling in love, injury, sickfic, all my favorite bullshit and I loved writing it ok.

N1SM by kiritila. A classic in the fandom. Style. A masterpiece.

Between the Sinners and the Saints by KaiterTot. Oh. My. God. When I say this one altered my brain chemistry… THE ENDING DUDE HOLY-

A Few Last Wolves by Jwink85. Yes, I am a resident of the State Of Style by way of Creek Nation but this is Cryle. And it’s a slay. If y’all liked Frank and Bills episode in TLOU, it’s kind of an au of that. It works man.

Winter Butterfly ALSO by Jwink85 and ALSO Cryle. What can I say it’s incredible. The Style in the beginning is CUTE until shit hits the fan, too, and I thought this fic was a really interesting take on all the characters and relationships. I adore Tweek in this one too.

Something Sweet Like Honey by bluebryy. Ok this one is unsettling and creepy Craig makes me feel icky but I cannot WAIT for an update on that fic, I got my fingers crossed for Style endgame. Also CHECK OUT THEIR ART ON HERE they converted me to a short king Kyle truther and it’s a slay tbh.

Ladies and Gentleman We Are Floating In Space by gremlinteeth. A classic. The first sp multi chapter I read. THE LORE BRO. CREEK. STYLE. STANS CHARACTERIZATION GOES SO HARD HES MY BOIIIII

Ok. That’s all my recs for now. Sry for being insane.

[lostloveletters]

Little Wing (John Brady x OC)

Summary: Kate "Woody" Woodward and John Brady have it bad for each other, except Woody's convinced he doesn't care for her and Brady's convinced he messed up his shot with her. They prove each other wrong.

Note: Woody and Brady’s first kiss fic yay🤭 Title comes from the Jimi Hendrix song (which is on Woody’s playlist).  I know I keep saying this, but I’m so overwhelmed with the response to Woody/Brady, I didn’t expect it at all, and it means so much to me🖤 Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Inevitable historical and technical inaccuracies. Suggestive to a point, but not explicit. Light miscommunication plotline.

Darla had been the one who pointed it out. The Texan wasn’t one for biting her tongue, and expressed earlier that day while they were eating lunch with Meg that John Brady wasn’t making himself scarce around the hardstand, or the hangar. Wherever that downed plane of his was while they were working on it, he’d inevitably show up at some point. 

“‘S like he don’t think we can fix a damn plane,” Darla said through a mouthful of toast, stale from that morning’s breakfast. The guys in the kitchen knew the three of them weren’t ones to pass up food just because it was a few hours old.

“I got the same thing at my pop’s shop back home. These fellas would bring in their cars and tell ‘im they didn’t want me workin’ on them. Half of ‘em didn’t even know how to change a tire,” Meg agreed, her thick Boston accent making Woody have to strain to understand what she was saying sometimes.

Darla shook her head. “Some ‘a these flyboys, I swear to god they got more swagger than sense.”

Woody didn’t want to tell them that Brady’s frequenting their work area might have coincided with the one day he showed up to check on how things were going, and she apparently struck a nerve by trying to be nice—something she was rusty at despite her best efforts. So he’d hang around and watch, sometimes not saying very much at all while puffing away at his pipe. Made her feel tantalizingly scrutinized beneath his stormy gaze.

His crew were all nice enough guys. A little rowdy sometimes, but nothing she couldn’t handle. Still, their pilot’s recent behavior made it tough for her to shake the feeling that he wasn’t all that fond of her. A damn shame, because she had it bad for him. Figured it was the first time she was into a guy who was decent.

Earlier that week, Hambone waited out the English rain in the hangar with her, telling her what he and the rest of them did before the war. Mostly recent high school graduates or everyday working guys. She didn’t find it surprising that the pilot had a degree, but almost couldn’t believe her ears when Hambone told her that Brady was a musician before the war. If anyone deserved to walk around with the swagger most of the pilots did, it was Brady, in her opinion, yet to her, he seemed level-headed and reserved. 

She had left lunch with Darla and Meg that afternoon with a newfound resolve to win Brady over somehow. If not for her own sake, then to at least not make her own faux pas the other girls’ problem.

Her quip to Holly about John Brady and his cockpit was mostly for her best friend’s amusement. Anything in her past she’d remotely consider a relationship boiled down to little more than sex. Never exclusive, and never all that satisfying, either. 

Woody nearly scoffed at herself. As if he’d want anything to do with a woman like her.

“Evening, Lieutenant,” she said as he walked up.

He sighed, taking his pipe out of his mouth. “You don’t have to be so formal, Woody. It’s just us out here.”

“Bucky and Holly are listening to the Yankees at the Nationals.” She nodded in the direction of the jeep in the distance. “They made some bet on it.”

“I hardly think that counts considering how far they are.”

She hesitated. “If you say so.” Stopped herself from adding ‘sir’ at the end. 

The following ten or so minutes were all hers. Pointed out every inch of the plane that’d been worked on since he last came by. Had an answer for all of his questions or concerns. She didn’t miss a single detail, wanting him to know yes, she was serious, and yes, she could fix a damn plane. Got the same thrill she did when she’d tell people how she souped up their cars to race, watching the appreciation and at times disbelief for her work on their face.

“Still got some kinks to work out, but it should be coming along a lot quicker now,” she said.

“You did all of that since yesterday?”

“I can’t take all the credit. Darla and Meg helped out, too.”

He cracked a grin, his pipe between his teeth. “You’re pretty damn good, Woody.”

She smiled. Her heart might’ve skipped a beat or two. “Thank you.”

“You must’ve been a mechanic before this, huh?”

“Here and there,” she said. Eager to steer the conversation away from herself, she quickly added, “You’re a musician, aren’t you?”

“I am. I got my degree in music, too.”

“Let me guess what you play…” She folded her arms across her chest. “You don’t strike me as a tuba man.”

The slightest smile worked its way onto his face. “No, I’m not.”

“Way too smart to be playing the triangle.”

“Hey, don’t count out the triangle.”

“You’re pulling my leg!” She laughed, silently proud of herself for not saying 'You're fucking with me' which otherwise would've been her reflexive response. “Alright, I’m gonna make my real guess now.” She pursed her lips as she considered her options. “Clarinet?”

He nodded. “And saxophone.”

“Both? Oh, I’d love to hear you play sometime,” she said. “Either. Whichever one you like best.”

“I play with the band in the officer’s club once in a while. You should come by. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you there.”

“I’m not an officer.”

“I’ll make sure no one kicks you out.”

“Are you offering to be my personal muscle?” she half-joked. 

He shook his head, smiling. “I don’t think you need it, but sure.”

“Thanks, John,” she said. “Unless you prefer Jack? Or just John?”

“What do you think suits me?” he asked.

“Well, I like Johnny, if you’re really asking.” She smiled like she was letting him in on a secret, like she knew all along he’d be Johnny to her. 

It was her eyes that got him, though. The same green he saw when someone else made her laugh or how just about everyone seemed to have some anecdote about Woody—how she helped them out or told a joke that was just the thing to lift their spirits.  But for all of the stories about Woody, the undertones of admiration or outright expressions of desire within them, nobody had one like his. Kissed his cheek without hesitation. Looked at him with those forest green eyes he could lose a hundred years in. Just when he was sure he had his chance and missed it, he was Johnny, and instead of getting lost in that forest, he knew exactly where he was going, how to push his way through and find her.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” she muttered, staring above them and shaking her head. 

Woody grabbed a screwdriver and kicked over a wooden milk crate that had seen better days. She tentatively placed her boot on it, pressing down a moment before stepping up.

“What are you doing?”

“I can’t reach otherwise.”

“That thing’s about as flimsy as cardboard,” he said, setting his pipe aside. “You’ll break your neck.” His strong hands were on her hips before he finished speaking. Held her steady as she stood on top of the crate.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said. 

She worked in silence until she stood on her toes, and the crate wobbled ominously beneath her. “I can’t see. Can you get me a flashlight and—”

He squeezed her hips in frustration. “Woody, just do it tomorrow. It’s not worth getting hurt over.”

“Help me down, Johnny?” she asked, turning slightly in his hold, her eyes flashed an unmistakable desire that nearly sent him to his knees.

He kept one hand on her waist, the other holding her free hand as she stepped down from the crate. A flash of red spread across her cheeks, and he was drawn in closer like a moth to flame, following her to the nearby toolbox where she put the screwdriver back in place, double-checking the contents before locking it up for the night.

“You got something…” His thumb brushed just below her lip. They stared at each other in silence, voice caught in his throat before he closed the gap between them, cradling her chin in his hand as he kissed her. 

A shock to her system, there was something uniquely vulgar in his tenderness. Past lips on her own had been rough and selfish, part of a song and dance she grew tired of by the time she was nineteen. To be kissed with such care at twenty-three made her skin burn for more. 

She grabbed his collar, pulling him closer. Threatened to lose herself in the embrace, almost unsure of where Woody ended and John began. 

He caught her bottom lip between his teeth for a moment. She shuddered when he released it and pressed a hungry kiss to his lips, her want betraying her with a soft whimper. 

She felt him pulling away and thought her heart was going to beat out of her chest. “Johnny, don’t go. Not yet,” she whispered pleadingly, raking her fingers through his hair.

It didn’t take much else for him to give in, losing himself in that forest in her eyes. “Is there anything you’re not good at?”

“Being good,” she answered, “and I was getting better at that until you got here not even an hour ago.”

He smiled, eyes glistening almost mischievously. “Well, I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“Am I your sweetheart?”

“If you want to be.”

She smiled. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Good, I wouldn’t want you to be anyone else’s,” he said, kissing her forehead.

“Me either.”

[streamafterlaughter]

Fundamental Differing

Chapter XXV: Just Once, He Talked Back

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev

tags: this fic is rated 18+ MDNI | eddie x gn!reader, slight angst, time jump, slight rpf (nothing explicit or weird just for backstory reasons<3) slow burn, fluff (finally?!)

a/n: this is a shorter chapter!! a lil angsty a lil cutesy. a lotta lore! maybe i’m drawing this out bc i’m not entirely ready to say goodbye to fd yet. idk. don’t look at me!

DISCLAIMER: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. Unless otherwise stated, this is the only account that features and contains this work, and any replication was done without my consent. Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. Reblog to support the author!

—

Your POV

You throw your phone to the floor, effectively disconnecting your line. Before long, though, you hear it downstairs. “Honey, the phone’s for you! Can you pick it up there?” Your mom calls for you again, and you groan.

“I’m not here!”

“It’s Eddie!” Your mom really isn’t getting it. You reach for your phone, begrudgingly plugging it back into the wall. It starts ringing immediately.

“What could you possibly have to say right now?”

His voice cracks over the receiver. “Baby, please. That picture was taken forever ago. I promise-“

You sigh. “When.”

“What?”

“When was the picture taken, Eddie?”

Pause. Silence. You chew on your bottom lip, regretting your question.

“February.”

“Of this year?!”

It’s Eddie’s turn to yell. “Why does it matter? We hadn’t talked for so long, she’s a friend-“

“There is no fucking way you’re just friends with Kathleen fuckin’ Hanna, Eddie! Did you sleep with her?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me!”

-

Eddie’s POV

There is no right answer to this question, he knows that. The truth is yeah, he did. Of course he did! He was high, and very drunk, and she was so beautiful, so nice to him. And he was so, so lonely. If he recalls correctly, though, he thought about you the whole time. Not that that information would help his case.

He doesn’t want to tell you, but he’s decided against lying to you ever again.

“Yeah, I did.” The line goes dead, dial tone buzzing in his ears. “Fuck!” He slams the phone back into its cradle. “I’m Sorry Wayne, I gotta go.”

“You sure you don’t wanna stick around, let ‘em cool off?” Wayne calls to Eddie from the kitchen table.

“No.” He surprises himself with how easily it comes out. “I can’t lose ‘em again. I’ll come back, I promise.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waves dismissively at his nephew. “Go fix it. And quit doin’ stupid shit, would ya?”

Eddie chuckles despite himself. “Yessir.”

-

The flight to Boston only takes three hours, but they’re the longest of Eddie’s life, and he’s gone through alcohol withdrawal. Logan airport bustles with tourists and townies. “Whe’d we pahk the cah?” A dad turns to his flustered wife, who’s got one kid on her hip, another yanking on her hand.

Eddie hails a cab outside before remembering he doesn’t know your address. “Shit.” He mumbles, crawling back out of the taxi and jogging to the pay phone outside.

The operator connects him to Steve. “Hello?”

“Steve, man, hey. Where does Y/n live?”

“In Boston, dude. You know that.”

“No! Their address, I need their address.”

“Why would you need their address? Wouldn’t they tell you- Oh no. The magazine?”

“Yeah, the fuckin’ magazine, man! Now please, where do they live?” Steve recites an address for Eddie to scribble on his forearm. “Thank you. Lifesaver, seriously.”

“Yeah, a few times now.” Eddie laughs with him before hanging up.

-

Your POV

“Coming, jeez!” You wrap your blanket around your shoulders before answering the door, the figure before you ripping every thought from your head. Eddie stands there in a too big sweatshirt and gym shorts, a duffle bag on his arm. Your parents are out to dinner but you were too sad to go, so you’re in your pajamas with a burrito and your second drink of the evening. “What the fuck?”

“Can I explain? Please?”

“Eddie, what—“

He pushes past you into the hallway, closing the door behind him. “Please.” Is all he says, and you resign, nodding as you crawl back into your spot on the couch. He sits at the other end, too much space between you for your liking. No. Stay mad. But how can you, when he’s here? When he came here, supposedly, to make things right?

Eddie huffs a breath, and you focus your attention. “Okay. Explain.”

—

February 1992

Eddie’s POV

Seattle makes him sad now. Last time he was here, it was with you, and you were still his. The Limelight bar is dim tonight, a few locals nestled into corner booths. Eddie sits in one with colleagues, not friends. He’s not sure he has friends anymore, but these people are important, financially. According to Steve, at least.

He takes another swig of his drink, a double jack and coke, hold the coke. It’s been a dark day, still reeling from the news this morning.

As if to torture him, the screen of the tiny bar TV seems to glow, summoning him to watch. MTV returns to the air, the perky host droning on. Until he’s not, when he starts in on “The underground riotgrrl movement.” He growls the word like a confused dog, but then adds. “We have a new single from Death Dance Approximately. This is Choke On It!”

The MTV logo flickers, and then you’re on the screen, right in front of him. You and your band are dressed in suits, spread out behind a pulpit in front of pews full of stuffy adults. The camera closes up on you, in dark eyeshadow and blood red lipstick, glaring into the lense as you sing.

Left for dead to save yourself / Asked for help but got drowned out. / That fire still lives inside of me, / I just hope one day I’ll get to see…” The scene changes, and Eddie sits up straighter. The video portrays a flashback, where the character you’re playing is wearing much brighter clothing, and holding hands with a handsome actor Eddie’s probably met eight different times without realizing it. He’s got an average face, nothing remarkable about him. That is until he turns around, and his cheap costume vest has the words Corrupted Cadaver painted across the back. The logo is eerily similar to the old Corroded Coffin scrawl, from way before the band got big. It isn’t meant to let everyone know, only him. And it hits exactly where he’s sure you meant it, chest stinging from the realization.

The scene changes again, portraying the couple fighting angrily, Mr. Every Man pointing and exclaiming at your character while you cry and scream back. At some point, you throw a plate, and Eddie less than fondly recalls the time you’d almost knocked him out with a coffee mug.

“Drinkin’ alone?” A voice behind him snaps Eddie from his pity party, and he feels its owner take a seat on the booth. He didn’t think so, but when he looks around the booth he realizes all of his company has disappeared into the dark of the bar.

“Yeah, guess I am.”

“Why is that?” She leans in, resting her cheek in her hand as she stares dreamily into his eyes. He’s trying to focus on her face, her voice, the woman in front of him, but he keeps glancing at the television over her shoulder. She takes notice, and follows his eyes to the screen, where you’re burning a pile of what he can assume is your ex’s belongings, makeup bleeding down your cheeks, far more exaggerated than he’d seen on your face before, but not entirely unlikely.

“You like ‘em?”

“What?” His eyes snap back to where Kathleen observed him.

“Death Dance? You like ‘em?” He doesn’t have an answer to that. “I think they’re cool,” she muses. “Y/n is a rockstar.”

He scoffs despite himself. “Yeah, you could say that.”

She cocks an eyebrow at him. “What’s that mean?”

“Nothin’, long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

-

present day

He stops, finally looking to where you sit to find you’ve stood up. You stare over him, arms crossed over your chest. “What did you tell her?” You sound almost nervous.

“I told her about us. I don’t know why she listened, or why she agreed to leave with me. She let me talk the whole time, and I don’t know if she cared or if she just pitied me, but it was nice. It felt good to talk. I hadn’t talked to anyone about it in so long.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers. “This is so fucking stupid.”

“Look, I’m sorry, I had no-“

“No, stop. I’m not mad at you. Most of those pictures are me anyway, Eddie. These assholes can’t just mind their own business.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to be quizzical. “What do you suppose we do about that, then?”

-

Your POV

You bite your bottom lip in thought. “We could, I dunno, ignore it?”

Eddie snorts, but his smile fades when he sees you’re serious. “Baby, I don’t think that’s possible. I don’t even remember them taking that picture.”

“That doesn’t really mean much, Eds. You were wasted.”

“Touché.” He grumbles. “But still, I think we should just. Ugh,” He doesn’t want to tell you what he’s thinking, but you wait. You have an idea of what he’s going to suggest. “I think we should embrace it. We’re together, right? In any other scenario, I’d be showin’ you off to anyone that would let me. Why should it be any different now?”

You look at him, study his expression with an unwavering stare. There is no hint of ulterior motive, no desperate urge to make you uncomfortable. He’s the Eddie you’d met six years ago, the one you’d fallen head over heels in love with instantly; just a nerdy metalhead with a huge heart. You can feel your guard crumbling, brick walls demolished, and Eddie’s swinging the wrecking ball. “If you want, of course. We can think of something else, though.” He adds, waving his hands anxiously.

“I want to. I’m so tired of this shit, letting these fuckers harass us. I want to be able to exist without feeling like I’m being watched.”

Eddie’s deep in thought, face scrunched, lips pressed together. “Okay,” He says finally, the pieces connecting in his head. “I have an idea.”

-

Eddie’s POV

“You think this is gonna work?” You lean against the bedroom door frame as Eddie dawns one of your father’s old baseball caps.

He grins, meeting your eyes in the mirror. “Are you doubting my ability to play tricks?”

You giggle, and Eddie feels his face ache from smiling. “Of course not! But these leeches twist everything to fit a made up narrative that people eat up without question!”

“Which is exactly why we’ll give them something so cliche they won’t be able to help themselves.” He’s comparing different pairs of your sunglasses next to his face. “And then, they’ll get bored and move on.”

“I dunno, that last part seems unlikely.”

Eddie frowns, turning to face you. “We don’t have to do this, y’know.”

You sigh, pushing off the doorframe to approach him. You smell like lemon and lavender, and Eddie wants to bury his face in your neck. He resists, though, clearing his throat

“No, I want to. They won’t leave us alone either way. Might as well have some fun with it.” You hand Eddie the sunglasses with rounder frames. “These ones. They look like Ozzy’s.”

“God, I love you.”

—

taglist: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @wiildflower-xxx @beebeerockknot @champagne-glamour @xxgothwhorexx @therensistance @chonkzombie @brxkenartt @sidthedollface2 @bibieddiesgf @gaysludge @eddiesguitarskills @potatobeanpie @poisonedluv @kellsck @m-chmcl-rmnc @veemoon | send a message to be added taglist for this fic is closed!